#pre tlo

[skaterbeth]

hermes: do you know what that feels like? to be so close to someone you love, knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?

post botl & pre tlo percabeth:

[decaffeinatedpartymuggoop]

One of the relationships that I always think about in PJO is Percy and Rachel’s. Not on a romantic level, but on how they see each other and what the other represents for themselves and how I think they were a kind of escape from their lives .

Like with Percy, Rachel is normal. She’s mortal. She doesn’t have monsters after her, she’s not trying to raze nor save Olympus. She (at the time) isn’t involved in the war.

But, on the contrary, she CAN see through the mist. She’s seen cyclopses and centaurs and furies and hydras. She’s seen not just the Greek world, but the fantastical AND the horrifying. Just like Percy.

She’s removed enough to where talking to her isn’t hard. She’s not pressuring him about a war. But she’s also close enough to where he CAN talk to her if he wants to. She sees what he sees, sometimes before him, and won’t and doesn’t think he’s crazy.

She’s mortal, but he can still relate to her and talk and be a normal teenage boy. Something he can’t do with a lot of people at that point.

For Rachel, Percy might as well be her manic pixie dream boy. He came crashing into her life swinging a sword and proving to her she’s not crazy. Confirming all her suspicions and confusions.

He’s an escape from her dull reality, he’s got monsters and mythical creatures. He’s the son of a Greek GOD. He’s fun and new and fantastical and so colorful compared to what she goes home to.

But even with all these things, he’s still just a teenager, like her. He’s fantastical but also normal. He slays gorgons but still has to study for algebra. He’s on crazy adventures during the summer but still comes home to summer reading and packets that they both don’t do. She can escape her reality into his but they can still come back to the one they both know.

Percy takes Rachel on fun adventures into labyrinths and Rachel takes Percy on summer vacations. I don’t think they truly liked each other (on a romantic level), i just think they were what they needed at the time.

The look into each others lives with rose colored glasses, a little envious of what the other has. Because they’re both at a point were they’ll take neglectful hardass parents or a war over what they gave going on at home.

[dont-reyna-my-parade]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson Characters: Connor Stoll, Rachel Elizabeth Dare Additional Tags: Canon Rewrite, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pretend Connor has a crush on Annabeth, Post-The Battle of the Labyrinth (Percy Jackson), Book 5: The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), Developing Relationship, Percy and Annabeth talk about their feelings, Feelings Realization, Percy is emotionally mature AU, Annabeth Chase deserves some validation, Jealous Percy Jackson, Jealous Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), percabeth Summary:

“He doesn’t like you back, Annabeth”

The words cut like a knife dipped in poison, but she couldn’t dignify this with a reaction. Just let it go, and she might’ve, if he didn’t keep digging.

“I’m sorry but its true! The whole camp knows how you feel about him, If he wanted to do something about it, he would!”

or

Percy and Annabeth are forced to confront their feelings after he overhears another's confession of feelings for her.

Takes place sometime before the war in The Last Olympian.

[chironshorseass]

2. “I’m bleeding.” or 3. “It won’t stop.” from the prompts? <333

i gotta give it to anon bc after a year of this prompt sitting on my inbox i took inspiration and wrote a fic! yay me!!!

@annabethsinvibilitycap was my alibi or whatever <3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

anyway read my fic it’s not a request 🔪

[opulentsquirtle]

it must be so confusing, for a little girl

For Annabeth, the world ended when the rear wall of the Hermes Cabin stopped smelling like smoke. She remembers the first time she caught him, just a girl of 9 years, but old enough to know that although the grey smoke escaping his lips matched her eyes, he was dying from the inside. She remembers crouching against the wall, watching the brown paint peel like rust, the lament of the leaves against his burning cigarette. The memories of that time are palpable, she can hold and examine them like lines of her work. But like the delicate threads of her tapestries, lugging at the wrong one can destroy the whole thing. Her memories fuzz at the edges when she tries to recall the end, but all that comes to mind is a big smile and a pair of ocean green eyes.

Luke taught her everything she knew, so of course, she picked up his bad habits, too. The first time was the day after she saw Luke in the labyrinth. The smoke tasted bitter, like acid, but it hurt less than his golden eyes. But when Rachel hit him, the god killer vanished into the air for a minute, leaving behind the distorted image of the boy who’d held her hand through the wreckage. How would Percy get it? He’s been loved, cared for, by his mortal and immortal parents. Annabeth’s mom shoved her into her father’s hand and her father kept her as a paperweight. He filled their house with a wife and kids and soon, Annabeth vanished from their lives faster than Luke could fling his hand around to hide his transgressions. He was going to destroy her. But, she could save him. Who would save her?

She took a drag of the stick and felt her lungs filling with something putrid. She closed her eyes and held it within herself, like a decaying limb, and then exhaled. Annabeth opened her eyes and felt herself crumbling into tiny specks of dust, and watched as the dust and smoke made their way up to the sky until she couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

She wondered why Percy, of all people, looked at her like she was a silly, petulant girl chasing an old crush. Foolish girl. He won’t love you. When he scowled at her and pushed her away for wanting to save Luke, she was back to being seven again, hunched under her bed, heaving through her tears, not wanting to trouble her father. Back then, she had thought that if she asked less from her father, hid well enough, blended into his furniture, requesting less than a casual dusting, he would love her more. I know, no one ever does. Was it so unbelievable that she wanted to save the person who had saved her? Luke had taught her how to read, how to spell parentage. Even when she got frustrated and tears escaped without permission, he caressed her filthy, unwashed hair, welcomed her tears, and spelled it out for her, again.

Connor Stoll caught her once when she was too lost to the growing rot inside her brain. Too lost to tell the difference between the bumpy and harsh wood of the wall, and the soft, yet broken, familiarity of her skin.

“Damn, Annie. Hope you saved some for me.” He sat down beside her, and all the ease left her body at a drop of the poisonous nickname.

“Don’t call me that.” She handed him the half-smoked cigarette, rested her head on her knees, and watched him take a small drag. His hair was blonde like Luke’s too, but longer and shabbier. The way it was when they were on the run together.

“He used to smoke here, too.” She turned her head in the other direction and closed her eyes.

“I know you know. I saw you with him, here, once. After that, I tried to not come here. It wasn’t my…” Annabeth knew he was trying to find the right words. The right words that wouldn’t warp Luke into something detestable, and Annabeth, as immature. She shut her eyes tighter, denying permission. Deny, deny, deny.

“Should I have tried harder? If I had… would things still be the same today?” What her eyes try to imprison escapes through her voice. It’s cracked, and raggedy, and Annabeth twirls a small blade of grass in her fingers. Her back aches after hours of sitting against the hard wall.

Connor scoots closer and wraps his arms around her shoulder, pulling her into his body. She doesn’t turn her head toward him, but her body relaxes into his softness.

“No, Annabeth. You were… you were just a little girl.”

The last time she smokes, and she remembers this clearly, is the day after Percy’s fifteenth birthday. She holds the lighter close to her face, watches as it chars the edge of the cigarette, but the burn doesn’t feel good anymore. The singe of his lips on hers feel like burning coals, unlike the blackened paper she can taste in her throat. She thinks of the immediate after, him looking like he was denied air. Of his cool, green eyes, contrasting against the blazing red fire around them. Of the last line of the prophecy that she had hidden from him; if only hiding can make things disappear. She looked up at the sky, blue as Luke’s former eyes; a world of its own, just like he was to Annabeth, once upon a time. Red. Green. Black. Grey. Blue.

One more year. The Prophecy feels heavier than ever, even though she’s been carrying it since she was twelve. Her father. Her mother. Helen. Luke. The world. The rough wall of the Hermes Cabin. The sear of Percy’s lips. Her back aches. She sighs, putting the cigarette out, shoving the nub into the wet ground. She coughs once, and then taking a deep breath, learns how to inhale all over again.

[catradored]

Wish You Were Sober (PJO Oneshot)

loosely based off the prompt “I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.”

Post botl which i haven't reread in ages so im sorry for any weird inconsistencies with canon please tell me because i remember vague stuff about chiron and centaurs but not a lot

***

Percy hadn’t intended to be dragged to a party in the Hermes cabin. When he found out Chiron would be gone for a day, his main hope was that Beckendorf would let him sit with him and Silena without them making out right in front of him while he tried to eat teriyaki chicken.

They did not, in fact, do this, and allowed him to joke his way into their conversation at the Hephaestus table. Silena smiled at him as Beckendorf asked him to sit down, then looked back toward the other tables. Her eyebrows drew together, and she nudged Beckendorf.

He ignored her, smiling at Percy. “Hey. Nice that Chiron decided to leave us all alone a few weeks after a crazy battle, right?”

“And after mysteriously hanging out with all those centaurs, too,” Silena added.

Percy shrugged. Normally, he would be more than happy to make fun of anyone in authority, because they were usually shit. But Chiron at least tried with the demigods, and he could understand him needing to spend some time with his own kind. Grover was doing the same. “We could all use a break anyway.”

“True.” Silena glanced toward the other tables again and smiled tenderly at Percy. He shifted in his seat. The look reminded him of the way his mom looked every time he said he’d been kicked out of a new school.

Beckendorf finally looked where Silena had, and his lips pressed together. “Annabeth’s pissed at you.”

Percy pushed the rice around with his spoon. “What’s new?”

“You should talk to her,” Silena said, her voice quiet. It was almost like a song, calming, easing the constant shaking in his leg. He wasn’t sure if Silena was able to charmspeak, but if he couldn’t feel the heat from Annabeth’s glare, he might have gone up and apologized to her right then and there, even though he was pretty sure he didn’t do anything wrong.

“I’m good,” he said instead. “Everytime we talk it’s like, we start off fine. She’s nice to me. And then I say something she doesn’t like and she blows up at me and won’t look me in the eyes.”

“You have a point,” Beckendorf said, but Silena just daintily placed tofu in her mouth, her eyes distant.

Percy and Beckendorf continued eating, discussing Capture the Flag and new weapons and how likely Beckendorf was to make varsity track next year if he went to school. Annabeth had stopped looking at them. Percy didn’t check, but he could tell.

“Percy,” Silena cut in, and the boys went silent. “I could talk to Annabeth, if you wanted.”

His gaze went down again. “Er--you really don’t have to do that.”

Silena smiled. “Annabeth may be my friend, but you’re mine, too. And don’t tell her this, but I think you’re right. Annabeth has her reasons for everything she does, but that doesn’t make everything she does right.”

Percy cracked his knuckles, not looking Silena in the eyes. “Thanks. I mean, like it’s really cool of you to do that. If you want.”

“It’s my job. As a daughter of Aphrodite, and your friend.” She grabbed Percy’s hand mid-fidget and held it. Percy glanced at Beckendorf, but he just ate his chicken. “Hey, how about you come to a party with us tonight? The Stolls are throwing it. It could be fun.”

Percy smiled and agreed, wondering why exactly a daughter of Aphrodite found it so important to meddle into his and Annabeth’s friendship.

***

He rushed to take a shower before the party because he still stunk of the canoe lake. Then he tossed on a camp t-shirt and shorts and ran after Beckendorf as he passed his cabin.

“You ready?” Beckendorf asked.

“Sure.”

“I heard the Stolls got some alcohol. Should be an interesting time.”

“I don’t even wanna know what they’re like drunk.”

“Aw, c’mon. Everyone will be happy you’re there. You’re becoming close to a celebrity at camp.”

Percy grinned. “I guess that’s what happens when you have a whole prophecy made about you. Or at least, no more getting my head stuck down a toilet.”

Beckendorf laughed, and they reached the Hermes cabin’s entrance. Silena was waiting for them and kissed Beckendorf on the cheek, then took Percy’s hand and dragged him through the door.

Immediately, Percy realized that having the Stolls of all people plan a party in an already overcrowded cabin wasn’t the best idea. People were practically pushed against each other, because it looked like every demigod thirteen and older had come.

And then there was the stench of liquor. Completely overwhelming and familiar and made Percy want to gag. It was like seeing a bunch of Smelly Gabes but younger and a bit friendlier cramped into one small, dim room, and he was about to run out the door when someone caught his arm.

He spun, expecting it to be Silena, but instead he was face to face with Annabeth’s fierce eyes. Percy jumped back a bit, but her grip on his arm didn’t break.

She looked different. A small smile was on her face. Her eyes still looked as intimidating as the day he first met her, still made his stomach flip, but there was less focus than he was used to with Annabeth. Her body was looser, like a rubber band that snapped from being taut for so long.

“Percy!” she said, practically yelling in his ear above whatever crap music the Stolls had blared, and that was when Percy realized that she was very, very, very drunk.

He immediately turned, looking for anyone around to help, but everyone else was focused on themselves and whoever they were intimately tucked into a corner.

“Hi,” Percy said, hesitantly. He really didn’t want to be around a drunk Annabeth, because being around a drunk anyone honestly sucked like, 99% of the time, but he was also a bit curious. The way she was practically leaning on him, and the small glint of humor in her eyes reminded him of the mortal girls from his school, who didn’t have to worry about fighting a titan lord next year.

It turned out, Annabeth was a very talkative drunk.

It was like when she talked about architecture, but using 100 more words per sentence and making sense with only every other. And she just didn’t stop. Usually she could go on for about five minutes before realizing Percy was spacing out and let him squeeze a few words in, but that didn’t seem to be a part of her plan.

And it was honestly really funny. Percy wished demigods could use phones, because holy shit, Annabeth actually talking about pop culture? That was a once in a lifetime experience, even if it was her debating with herself on whether social media was a positive or negative influence on today’s youth.

Not to mention, she was smiling a lot more at him and touching him more than she had in three years of friendship. The weird bubbly warm feeling he got when they hugged before the Labyrinth quest was back, because her hands roamed up and down his back as she swung her arms around him and changed her position, but refused to stay still. At one point she stepped on his foot in an effort to demonstrate the impact of her words, and with a complete lack of spatial awareness, and she profusely apologized for a whole five minutes.

“It’s okay,” Percy reassured her once again, barely able to keep himself from laughing. Annabeth didn’t have the same self control.

“I’m sorry, I’m so…rry, s-orry,” she said between giggles, and then her head fell onto Percy’s chest, and their bodies were so close he could practically feel the heat from hers on his arms. And it was so strong it felt like a forest fire.

He was pretty sure he stopped breathing for a long time, because the next thing he remembered was Annabeth looking up at him, her face clouding over, and Percy braced himself for the yelling. But instead she just dug her head back into his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I like you a lot, Percy.”

“Huh?”

Her voice was muffled, and he could feel her lips grazing against the thin separation of his t-shirt and his chest, and he was definitely not breathing now. “I said I like you a lot, Percy Jackson.”

He smiled for a second, and her lips rested for a few seconds too long against his chest, until she flipped her head so her cheek was against it again. His brain seemed to be screaming “look here!” about Annabeth’s hands around her waist, but also her cheek on his chest, the ends of her ponytail tickling his elbow, and just every bit of her that was so familiar but also completely new to him.

Then he lifted his eyes and caught Clarisse’s smirk, and blushed and pushed himself a bit from Annabeth. “You’re really drunk.”

“Mmhm.”

“And tomorrow you’ll go back to hating me.”

“No. No.” Annabeth shook her head, finally pushing herself from his arms. “No, Silena talked to me. She said-she-she-” her words were slurring, and Percy’s head started to spin. “She told-t-told me, she-” Annabeth blinked, shook her head, took a deep breath.

When she opened her mouth again and met her eyes, it was like the words collapsed seconds before being spoken. He could see her start to tear up.

“Do you need to go outside?” Percy asked, almost reaching to grab her shoulders, but stopped. His arms hung limply by his side. “What do you need?”

Annabeth blinked again, mumbled, “Bye,” and clumsily shoved her way through the crowd.

Percy had been wrong. Being around anyone drunk sucked 100% of the time.

[thehopeofitalll]

you've been stressed out lately (yeah, me too)

read it on ao3!!

Percy wakes up with a dull throbbing in his head. It’s how he wakes up most of the time these days. He gazes at the stars above him, the faint snores of his friends nearby creating a cozy atmosphere.

He shifts to his side with a grunt, beginning to close his eyes to try and doze off when he notices a silhouette in front of him.

He sits up straight and squints. “...Annabeth?”

She jumps, clearly startled. Turning around to see him, she says, “Oh good, you’re awake too.” Even in the darkness, he could feel Annabeth roll her eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asks, scooting towards where she sat, on the soft grass.

“Couldn’t sleep, so...I was just sitting here and thinking,” she replies, glancing at him for a second.

“Thinking?”

“Yeah...quest stuff, you know?” Annabeth shrugs.

Percy knew how rare it was to have peaceful conversations with her. Lately, all the times they talked ended up in a fight. He hesitates briefly, not wanting this talk to end up with them storming away from each other again.

“Wise Girl…” he begins, noticing the way her eyes soften at the nickname as she stares at the stars (and him gazing at her), and desperately trying to ignore the familiar knot in his stomach. “I know you. And I know you aren’t just thinking about the quest.”

She takes in a sharp breath. “I’m...scared.”

“Scared?”

Percy could think of a million words to describe Annabeth Chase: she was smart, wise, annoyingly right most of the time, and one of the bravest people he’d ever seen.

But scared? He’d never thought of her like that.

“Scared of what?” he asks.

“I...never mind, it’s nothing,” she mumbles, turning away from him. “Go back to sleep, Percy. You don’t need to hear me ramble in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I do,” he says, placing his hand on her shoulder, gently forcing her to look at him. “Annabeth, you can tell me anything. Even the most stupid things you think about.”

“I just feel so useless,” she says, her fingers pulling at the grass they’re sitting on. “A huge war is coming on our way, and I can’t do anything to stop it.”

“Annabeth, that isn’t your fault,” he replies. “You strategize and lead quests that make us win. You are helping, even if you can’t stop the war.”

She sighs. Percy doesn’t know what she does. He doesn’t know about how Luke had come to her, unarmed. If she’d just done something, anything, they wouldn’t be facing Kronos now.

The prophecy that kills Percy wouldn’t be coming true.

“Hey…” he continues, his voice barely a whisper. “You aren’t blaming yourself right?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” she answers. “A bit...worried, I guess.”

“Worried about who?”

Annabeth meets his eyes. “You.”

Percy’s eyes widen, as if he hadn’t expected that answer. Annabeth was suddenly very aware of his hand still resting on her shoulder, brushing against her neck.

The moment felt far too intimate, considering the way they’d nearly strangled each other the past few months. And maybe , she thinks, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“And...this war, Luke, and the campers and everyone, of course,” she hastily adds.

“Yeah, Luke,” Percy mutters, his hand leaving her shoulder. Annabeth missed the warmth almost immediately.

“We don’t know what’s going to happen in the upcoming battles,” she says. “Any of us could die.”

“I know,” Percy says, lying down on the grass.

Annabeth glances at him, before lying down beside him. “We could die.”

“I know,” he simply repeats.

He said it with such ease, as if he was prepared. It pained Annabeth to know that he would actually die, according to the quest.

She didn’t know who she was mad at this point.

She hated herself, hated him and the rest of the world. She hated the Fates for making her fall for him, despite knowing that he was a dead man walking.

Annabeth thought she was numb to pain. She was used to seeing important people in her life leave. Her father, no matter how much they tried to reconcile, was still distant. Her mother was a Greek goddess, whom she could never contact even if she wanted to.

She lost Thalia when she was seven. She spent years walking to the pine tree, sitting down and recounting whatever happened as if Thalia could hear.

Now, Thalia was back. But she was still so far away, a Hunter of Artemis.

She lost Luke. Lost him when she decided to waste her chance to save him when he came to see her. She still hoped, hopes , but somewhere deep down she knew he was doomed.

And now, Annabeth was slowly losing Percy. She was tired of chasing him, and trying to reach out only to realize that she’d lost him since the day they met. All because of some stupid prophecy.

Percy doesn’t deserve to die, she thinks, as the familiar sinking feeling starts. He needs to live.

“I’m so tired, Percy,” she says. “Everything feels so hopeless. It’s like there’s this darkness around us that we can never escape.”

“I know.”

She pauses, choosing her next words carefully. “I’m also tired of fighting. With you,” she continues. “I miss us.”

“I hate this too,” he replies. “I don’t want to fight with you. I just want to go back to being friends.”

Annabeth ignores the twinge of disappointment she felt. She didn’t want to be just friends, and she wishes she could tell him that, but she pushes the urge away.

“Gods, I’m so stupid,” she mumbles, softly laughing. “Talking about all this when we have to continue our quest tomorrow.”

He smiles. “I don’t think it’s stupid. Maybe talking about your feelings helps?”

“Really cheesy, Seaweed Brain,” she says, his smile mirroring on her face.

“Well Rachel’s cheesy all the time, I think I’ve been spending too much time with her,” Percy says, grinning.

And there it was. One of the reasons why she kept pushing Percy away, even if she wanted to spend time with him. It hurt, knowing that he was with Rachel way more than he’d been with her for months now.

He slightly tenses up, and Annabeth wonders if he was bracing himself for a fight, since it’s all they ever do.

“Yeah, you have,” she replies, hoping that he doesn’t notice the bitter undertone to her seemingly well remark.

(And he doesn’t because he’s so oblivious, she sometimes wonders how she ever fell in love with him.)

“But maybe you are right,” Annabeth continues. “I do feel strangely a little bit calmer after that rant.”

“Aha! Who’s the wise one now?”

“Still me,” she says, smirking as she bumps his shoulder playfully. “Also, thanks. You could’ve gone back to sleep, instead of sitting here with me.”

“Nah, I probably couldn’t have slept. I’d have just stared at nothing till either the sun rises or I get tired and fall asleep.”

“I’m trying to say a nice thing, Percy!”

“Of course,” he says, trying hard not to grin. “Continue.”

She takes a deep breath. “What I’m saying is that...it means a lot to me, that you sat here, listened to my ramblings and didn’t judge me.”

“I’ve never judged you,” he says, shrugging.

“Twelve year old Percy would disagree,” she says.

“Hey! Twelve year old Percy was the most respectful boy you’d ever see!” Percy exclaims.

“Sure,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Just...thank you. For everything.”

“Anytime, Wise Girl. And…” he begins. “There’s always going to be some things that you can’t control.”

“Ugh, I hate those kinds of things.”

He smiles softly. “I know. But you can’t blame yourself for how those things went down, you can’t try to control them either. And even though you’ve never told me about it, I have a gut feeling that you worry about things like that a lot.”

“Wow,” Annabeth says, impressed. “That was really wise.”

“So, who’s the wise one now? ” he asks.

She shakes her head and laughed. “It’s still me. But you are getting closer.”

“And that’s a victory as far as I’m concerned.”

She rolls her eyes again. “Of course it is, you dork,” she mumbles, feeling the most peaceful she has in months.

She watches the stars twinkle as they settle into a comfortable silence. She turns, finding Percy’s nose an inch away from hers. He’s closing his eyes, and she thanks all the gods he doesn’t see her ears rapidly turning pink.

She almost thinks he’s fallen asleep, but then his hand falls on hers, and he gives it a slight squeeze.

Annabeth smiles, and squeezes his hand three times. I love you. She doubts she’ll ever say it to him, but for now she doesn’t mind just talking with him for hours.

—

something gave you the nerve to touch my hand, it’s nice to have a friend.

[chironshorseass]

Writing prompt #37 with percabeth pre-tlo (where the person saying it might want to keep it a secret…) TYSM <333

(i think…..this is the “i had a dream about you” sentence starter. so i’ll go with that :) ) 

in which the aphrodite kids host a party and regrets happen. tw alcohol and mentions of alcoholism.

read on ao3

if points could be given just by stealing glances, percy would never have failed algebra.

this thought is stupid, maybe—probably a product of being adhd, but he can’t help it, since he did. fail algebra. and also fail everyone else. there’s no point in stealing glances when he wins no points at all, sulking in the farthest corner of the aphrodite cabin like the wall’s shadow as he watches his friends have fun.

as he steals glances. at one girl in particular. she doesn’t return them, however. sounds of laughter and the blasting songs of avril lavigne clatter in his mind like shattering glass. then a cheer. he looks up again, only to find annabeth chug down another drink, handing the cup over to an overly-touchy conner. temptation crawls up his throat, to go to her. but he holds his ground with the grinding of his teeth. there’s no point—fifteen minutes ago, she’d told him to go away, to stop being such a baby.

fine. if she wants it that way.

she doesn’t, of course. he doesn’t. annabeth’s even worse when drunk.

“oh my gods, perce,” comes a voice laced with sweetness. silena is there, standing over him with her hands on her hips. “you’re seriously gonna sit here all broody and shit?”

he finds the strength to shrug.

silena doesn’t buy it. she never does. “come on, pretty boy.”

and he doesn’t respond, even if he hates his most recent nickname with all his being; silena knows it, too.

“ugh, seriously?”

“i’m fine, silena.” he doesn’t mean to snap, but he does anyway. it’s completely in character for him to do so, he supposes—especially these days.

she just raises an eyebrow. whoever said that the aphrodite kids are weak never had a confrontation with one of them. “just because she told you to stop fussing over her doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t try. because seriously, she’s gonna need it. that girl has no self control, and i’m actually surprised, for once.”

“who said i was here because of annabeth?”

she scoffs, crouching down to his eye level. this should infuriate him, maybe, but this is also silena. talking to her about a certain daughter of athena has always given him the urge to cry.

“percy, honey…i know these things. you know i know these things. so don’t play dumb with me and actually go to her.”

he looks away, grumbling, “i’m fine like this, thank you very much. besides, i’m not into partying.”

“the first time in like, forever that chiron leaves camp and you won’t enjoy yourself?” she makes a tsk sound. “nope, i don’t buy it. come on.”

“i’m tired, is all,” he manages. it’s not a lie, either. tired. he’s tired of pretending like everything’s okay. “just…go back to your drinking games or whatever. i don’t want to ruin your fun.” he nods over to clarisse, who, as he guessed, is watching them expectantly, waiting for silena.

“come on, percy. for a couple of minutes. please? and then you can go back to your self pity, i don’t care—just…give it a try. for annabeth.”

~

“percy! hi!”

annabeth’s voice isn’t really annabeth’s voice. it’s something else, trapped between euphoria and excitement. it had been so long since she addressed him with such happiness, and maybe this is why she doesn’t sound like her at all—why he might suddenly want to steal one of the red cups that’s being filled to the brim with the mystery drink travis stoll had brought and chug it down in one gulp. why he wants to grab her face and beg her to stop crushing his heart into pieces for at least an hour. just one hour, and he would be alright.

of course, he does none of those things.

he stammers instead: “hey, uh. annabeth. hey. you alright? you, uh, need some water?”

she bites down on her bottom lip, which isn’t distracting at all. “why would i need some water?”

“it helps lower the level of alcohol in your system. especially if it’s sparkling water.”

this time, she frowns. “i’m not drunk, though.”

he wants to argue that yes, you are, and i don’t like seeing you this way; her nose and cheeks are flushed, a shade he recalls seeing on a man who didn’t know how to love so instead he spilled his heart into beer as if that would fix the emptiness inside. percy chastises himself. annabeth is different—she’s annabeth, his best friend who is also his worst enemy. but someone he cares for nonetheless. she’s drunk either way. this is what made him hide in a corner in the first place.

“how much did you drink?”

“a little! i swear! so maybe i’m a bit drunk. just super little!”

“okay, just”—he carefully pries the plastic cup from her hands—“no more, okay? i don’t want you to feel bad tomorrow.”

“but what’s the point in that?” she pouts. “because if i feel bad, you’ll take care of me, but if i don’t, you’ll just go away!”

again, annabeth is so much worse when drunk. and he knows that she doesn’t mean to say this, that she’s not in her right state of mind, but it still feels like all she wants to do is leave him in a frozen mountainside to die.

“i—okay, annabeth—”

“i want to be with you, seaweed brain.” she throws her arms around him, and all of a sudden nothing else matters, as corny as it is. maybe there’s a wolf whistle or two; he doesn’t care, not when she’s got that look on her face as she meets his eyes.

“i thought you said you wanted me to go away,” he says, breathless.

she gives him a small smile, and it sprouts doubt in his chest like weeds—about whether or not she’s sober. “i like to lie when i’m with you.”

no. she’s definitely drunk. a tingle starts from the base of his neck, where annabeth plays with a lock of his hair.

“no more drinking if you’re with me,” he says. “okay?”

her smile widens; her eyes sparkle like stars. “i don’t need anything else.”

in an instant annabeth’s arms tighten around him; she embraces him fully, nose pressed to his shoulder. a few feet away, silena gives him a thumbs up as he helps drew set up the beer pong.

“i missed you.”

he pats her back with the palm of his hand, closes his eyes, drowns his face in her curls. “i missed you, too.”

“i had a dream about you, you know.”

the comment takes him completely by surprise; annabeth is yet to pull away. he recovers quickly, though.

“was it like, a demigod dream?” he asks tentatively.

“no,” she says simply. now is when she draws back, meeting him face to face. but he can’t manage to let her go just yet. “i liked the dream. because you kissed me. like, an actual, good kiss. and everything was perfect.”

“i, um…” his heart stammers, then stops, maybe. he’s not sure, because all he can focus on is how wide her eyes are, how they almost look sky blue in the fairy lights. then reality hits him. “maybe we should go.”

“so we can kiss?” she says hopefully.

“no, ‘beth. you’re drunk. you need to sleep, or, or something.”

her arms pull him closer, close enough for him to fully smell the alcohol coming from her warm breaths. “i want to kiss you, though.”

hands gripping her waist, he separates himself from her, if just a tad. “you’re drunk. you don’t want to kiss me, so just—”

“no, you don’t want to kiss me!” her skin turns a deeper shade of red, traveling from her cheeks all the way to her neck, like a creeping vine.

“yeah, i don’t! not if i’m the only one sober!”

she backs away. her touch lingers, however. like when you’ve placed your hand in the warm, oven glass for too long.

“but he kissed me.” her words come as a confrontation, and with it the dread from watching her all night come in loose strings.

“who?” it’s a shame he has to ask.

she crosses her arms, looks over her shoulder. a second passes before he knows exactly who it is. connor stoll waves at them, then falters once he catches onto percy’s expression.

oh.

“connor? connor fucking stoll? really, annabeth?”

“well, you don’t want me,” she says, a tremor in her voice; her eyes glisten. stars melting. “you clearly don’t want me, but maybe someone else does.”

“for fuck’s sake, you—”

he reaches for her, because he may hate to see her drunk, but it’s worse if she cries, and no no no this can’t be happening because she’s running away from his hands and now all that’s left is a ghostly memory.

“you’re all i want, but damn it, annabeth, you’re drunk; you’re not thinking—”

“but you don’t show that!” she cries, and this is when tears roll down, when people start to notice. “i’m not all you want! all you want is some shitty mortal girl who’s apparently way better than me!”

“is this some competition, then? because last time i checked, you kissed connor, of all people!”

bile rises in him, a hot rod gnawing in his chest that comes every time he argues with her. gods, he’s tired. tired of arguing.

“i can do whatever the fuck i want! i’m sure you kiss plenty of girls, you, with your dumb fucking face—”

“okay, i think you need to rest—”

she pushes him away. “no, fuck you, percy! you are the last fucking person to tell me what i need. because what i need is—”

“hey, girlie,” silena says gently, suddenly behind her. she grasps annabeth by the shoulders. “c’mon, let’s go.”

annabeth’s lip trembles, and the only thing percy can do is watch. do nothing as he’s stomped on, again and again.

“but i don’t want to go—”

silena shushes her. “you two will talk in the morning, okay?”

something about her soothes annabeth; maybe it’s the honey in her voice, because she nods. silena makes eye contact with him just as they turn away. soon they are lost in the crowd of demigods.

percy’s fists clench. he doesn’t move, only looks around. but connor is also gone.

fuck everything, he thinks.

no one notices him leave.

~

they find each other in the dining pavilion, the next morning. her eyes are puffed up and red and glaring as if the sun is too much. perhaps it is. but she’s nothing but beautiful, even if she may look half dead, leaning against a pillar. he’s the one to approach her first.

“i’m sorry.”

she glances up, startled. her expression says it all.

“no i...i shouldn’t have...” she starts, but her throat seems to close up. it must hurt for her to speak, or else why would her voice sound so rough?

“you…you weren’t in your right state of mind—”

“i know.” her lips purse together. “it won’t happen again.”

a million things are left unsaid, and a million more are left in the dark. he’s not sure what they are, anymore.

“but, um, i was just wondering…about what you said.”

“i don’t know what i said.”

it’s half a lie, though. 

because, then, why are you sorry?

maybe she was drunk, but he’s certain that she remembers, at least somewhat. or at least that someone told her. her expression says it all once more.

so he doesn’t give up, not when he’s made it this far.

“you told me…that you wanted to kiss me.” he wrings his hands together as his eyes flicker to their shoes. “something along those lines. did you…” his gaze lands on her like a magnet. he never seems to stop. “did you mean it?”

she’s all hardened stone, and her words are bitter and cold. “i was drunk, percy. what more do you want to hear?”

"nothing, nothing, but..."

but i'll always choose you. forever. i never kissed anyone else, and i don't want to kiss anyone else but you. you are everything to me, and then some.

the words wilt in his throat like the discarded roses on his mom's dining table.

"just forget it," she says. "okay? forget i said anything, because i...didn't mean it."

something lies beneath her eyes, but Percy's too tired to fish it out, explore it with his hands. he just lets it be and continues. he bites his feelings down just as he later bites down on his toast. and watches annabeth.

there’s no point in stealing glances when you win no points at all.