folie a deux : percy, annabeth. synonymous at times, attached at more than the hip. annabeth is seized with an itching beneath her skin, something more than terror. it’s in these hapless moments when her calm is shattered & his remains steady as fathered waters where the deviations between pair are dismally apparent. ❛❛ whoa, hey, hey, hey hey. deep breaths. lots of deep breaths. ❜❜ even at her worst, athenian need to combat the more levelheaded arises * a scorching rod of spite stabbing between heaving ribcage. BUT HE’S RIGHT. he’s right, & the clarity of his calm did more than ego cared to acknowledge. her breathing shallowed. the waves of panic ebbed gently out though iron grip continued to bite into percy’s arm & stony eyes remained shut tight enough to see a thin glow around the pain. & though hysteric subsided in the slightest, annabeth could not shake the unmistakable hair’s breadth kiss of 8 million tiny legs rushing to smother her body & mind. ❛❛ percy, they’re everywhere. ❜❜ @propheics











