vvisdomsdaughterâ:
Without getting into serious conversation, Annabeth didnât have a lot to offer in the way of words. She wasnât sure how to reassure him, or herself, when she had only the vaguest idea of what had happened. Her responses were mostly variations of itâs okay, Iâm here, I missed you, and once a slipped Iâm sorry. She didnât know if any of this was even her fault, but she was sorry to have left him at all, sorry to see him hurting.
She couldnât have been less prepared for it when a wall of seawater crashed over them, soaking her from head to toe. She actually gaped at him for a second, blinking seawater out of her eyes. She had the disturbing feeling that it hadnât been entirely intentional, and she didnât know what that meant. Percy didnât always take things seriously, but if he wanted to interrupt them, she didnât think that was how he would do it. She nuzzled her face into his shirt in an attempt to dry it. âMaybe we should move this inside,â she mumbled into his chest.
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One of the side effects of his heritage was that he didnât have a strong, or even surprised, reaction to getting wet. Even when he was unexpectedly doused, it wasnât shocking or disorienting to him. That obviously didnât apply to Annabeth, no matter how long theyâd been together. When she pulled away, it was the first real sign something had happened. Contextual clues took him another minute. Even beyond that, he was still blinking and disoriented as he tried to come out of the sexy, reuniony headspace heâd been in to connect some dots. Â
This was one of the things he hated about smoking. If he did it too much, his control slipped and things like this happened. He murmured a gentle apology, trying to get her wet hair away from her face, but the opportunity waned before he could do much.  âMaybe,â he agreed.  âItâd be drier at least.â He pressed a kiss to the top her head, the only part of her he could get his mouth on with how they were laying.  âLetâs go home.âÂ












