Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first time Percy sees her, he’s seventeen, and he thinks he may be in love. 

She’s really pretty, he thinks, and that’s what drives him to sit behind her that first week of school. He’s only a little bit nervous sitting near someone he deems so cute, but he likes to think that he’s not entirely unattractive. It’s not so wild to at least want to find out who she is after not having seen her before. 

Besides…it’s fun. Percy enjoys getting to look at people around him. He’s a people watcher, he must admit. He genuinely wants to look at people and find out about their lives. Percy wants to know about why the girl in front of him is in paint-covered overalls, or what she had been drawing that led to the stains of graphite on her left hand. He wants to discover what she uses in her hair to make it look so soft and gold, and what her curls feel like wrapped around his finger. 

She’s intriguing and new, and he’s determined to know her name.

Percy doesn’t say anything to her for at least a week. Instead, he just watches. He learns her name is Annabeth — it suits her well, in his opinion — and that she’s an artist. He’s able to see some of her drawings from his place behind her, and he finds that she’s incredibly talented. In her free time, he’s able to see the way she puts her hair up to focus on a sketchbook in front of her. 

He even comes to learn that she enjoys painting too, though it should have been obvious from the way so many of her clothes are covered in an array of colors. It’s endearing to see someone care so much for what they do. 

Still, Percy has yet to have an actual conversation with her, which he doesn’t mind. He’s content watching and piecing together bits of her personality. It gives him something to do in a history class he’d rather not be in anyways, so he takes his time trying to unravel Annabeth Chase.

It’s not until two weeks later that he first speaks to her. Their history teacher tells them to talk to someone around them, and Annabeth is the only person left. 

Percy expects for it to be a friendly conversation, but all hope for that goes flying out the window the second that she opens her mouth.

“Are you going to say anything?” Annabeth asks. He isn’t sure what she’s referring to since she hadn’t said anything herself. He’s surprised at the way she looks at him as though he’s a piece of scum she’d rather not be talking to, and he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening. 

 “Huh?”

“Eloquent.”

Percy furrows his brows, genuinely confused. “Am I supposed to say something?”  

Annabeth rolls her eyes, and she seems as though she wants to kick him under the table. She can’t actually, since she’s only half turned in her seat, but with the glare of her eyes, he wouldn’t put it past her.

“Were you not listening in class?”

“In history? Absolutely not.” 

“Oh, that’s fantastic. I’m stuck with someone who can’t be bothered to try in class.”

And now, Percy’s getting a bit defensive because he hadn’t even done anything. She seemed so cute and sweet before, and to anyone that wasn’t in his position right now, she would probably still seem like the gentlest person in existence. It just didn’t match, the way she looked like a princess, the way she drew with elegance and effortlessness versus the static iciness he sees in her eyes. 

“What were we supposed to do?”

“Now you want to help?”

Percy blinks once. He’s really trying to give her the benefit of the doubt and consider that maybe she’s just having a bad day, but the more she speaks, the more he realizes that maybe the reason he’s never seen her talking to anyone was because no one could stand her. 

“We’re supposed to be deciding if Pearl Harbor could have been prevented.”

“Oh, yeah. I have no idea.”

Annabeth gives him a look of judgement that has his blood running cold. “Did you not read the textbook?”

“Who reads a textbook?”

“Anyone that cares about their future,” she says, “which is not you, apparently.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying you clearly don’t care that much if you’re not willing to do something as simple as read over two pages before class.”

Percy can’t believe that someone actually has the audacity to be so judgmental. It’s not that he doesn’t care about his grades — he just doesn’t think one needs to have perfect grades and attendance to make it through. Everyone’s going to end up in the same place anyways, so he really doesn’t care if he gets a few C’s in his lifetime, and he tells her just that. 

“Alright,” Annabeth says sarcastically. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m not stupid just because I didn’t read a page. It’s common sense anyways.”

“Mh-hm?” Annabeth’s giving him a look that tells him she doesn’t believe him for a second. “Go on, then.”

“You can’t stop someone from doing something. If Japan were to bomb Pearl Harbor, it would be pretty difficult to stop that.”

“Aw, that’s cute.” Annabeth turns entirely in her seat now, but her mocking grin persists. “But what if the textbook says that Roosevelt had been aware that Japan was already taking land in the Pacific? The French Indochina?”

“It’s still near impossible to stop an attack like that, don’t you think?”

“I think whatever the textbook tells me to think.”

“Tell me you don’t know how to think for yourself without telling me you don’t know how to think for yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I don’t go pulling information out of my ass.”

“It’s called common sense. Maybe you could use some.”

Annabeth looks like she wants to respond, and he thinks that she would have if their teacher hadn’t called their attention back to the front of the class, cutting their bickering short. He thinks it’ll end at that, so he drops in his seat with his arms across his chest, quietly simmering. He doesn’t start listening again, which he thinks is his first mistake.

Annabeth had been turned sideways in her seat, so she kicks Percy’s chair hard , which startles him out of his trance. 

“What?” Percy bites.

The class around him laughs, and he can feel his face beginning to heat up.  

“Why don’t you tell us about your conversation with Annabeth?” his teacher asks. Percy’s sure that this teacher is out to get him because it’s not the first time he’s gotten called on when he was so obviously not listening. He’s genuinely convinced his teacher is some sort of sadist, relishing in the pain and embarrassment of their students.

“I don’t have anything to say,” Percy says.

“You sure had a lot to say five minutes ago,” Annabeth taunts.

Percy shoots her a glare. Annabeth just smiles with faux sweetness.

He decides in that very moment that he wants nothing to do with Annabeth. She’s quite clearly not at all what he would’ve expected. Sure, she’s cute, but she’s cute in an I’ll-tear-your-face-off sort of way, and he would rather have his face attached to his skull than in her hands.

It’s that specific moment that has him building a personal vendetta against her because, quite honestly, she deserves it. Now that he knows her name, he’s definitely heard the things people say about her. 

It turns out that she’s always had a prickly personality. She does have a lot of friends, he comes to realize, and he just can’t imagine how they do it. He can’t even begin to understand how they can stand to be around her when she’s constantly spitting out insults like she’s the best thing to walk the Earth.

Percy seems to be a bit unlucky though because he can never seem to escape her. It’s as though once he had his first conversation with her, he was doomed to an eternity of listening to her snarky insults.

 Every single day she walks into class, she wastes no time in giving him the dirtiest look she can muster, and he gladly returns the gesture. It becomes their little game, and it does bring him some entertainment, he must admit.

As much as he tries to say he hates her, she’s also helped him in a backwards sort of way.

It helps him strive to do better in school. He pays more attention in class, if only to rub it in her face that he got a higher score than her on a quiz (which never actually happens, but he imagines that one day it will). 

They fall into a rhythm, and slowly, he discovers more about her. He begins to understand her just a little bit more, and that fury he’d felt on day one dissipates.  

A month into their not-so-playful bickering, Percy finds himself staring over her shoulder again. They’re not really doing anything in class, so Annabeth is sitting in her desk sketching something onto a piece of paper. He wants to bother her by asking her questions or insulting whatever it is that she’s creating, but he finds that he can’t bring himself to do it.

She’s so focused on the drawing in front of her that she doesn’t notice the way he’s practically hovering over her shoulder, and he stays silent because as much as he wants to mess with her, he doesn’t want to disturb the scene. He wants her to keep drawing so that he can keep learning more about her. He thinks he learns a bit more with each stroke of her pencil against paper. He knows things about her, like how she gets frustrated when a strand of hair from the low bun she’d put in escapes in front of her face, and he only knows that from observation, so he doesn’t want her to stop.

As much as Percy hates her, he’s also gotten used to her. Their interactions are never friendly, but it’s still one more interaction in his day that he gets. She’s a mean person, but she’s mean to him instead of anyone else, and it’s become a part of their daily routine. 

Annabeth pauses her drawing, but doesn’t move from that position for a few seconds. Percy tilts his head a bit, staring at what’s on the paper. It couldn’t possibly be complete, so what is she—

“Are you just going to keep breathing over me like that?”

Percy leans back in his seat and scratches his head. “I’m sorry.”

“You do that all the time,” she says. “It gets annoying.”

“I do not,” he objects. 

“You hover over me all the time,” she tells him. “Don’t think I don’t notice that. You’re always watching me draw.”

“You knew?”

“I’m not stupid.”

 “Because you read the textbooks?”

 He can see the way Annabeth’s lips twitch upwards.

“Why did you let me?” he asks. “If you wanted me to stop?”

 “Because you seem interested in it. I usually don’t mind it, but you were really breathing against my neck today.”

 “You mean you wanted me to be able to watch you?” Percy holds a hand over his heart and pouts his lips mockingly. “Is that the sound of Annabeth Chase’s heart of ice thawing?”

“It’s the sound of saving my words,” she says. “We both know you’d never listen to me if I told you to stop watching me draw. You’re annoying like that.”

“Only for you.”

 “I’m so lucky,” she says, monotone. 

Percy cranes his neck to look at the sketchbook. He can’t identify what it is, but it looks pristine. The lines are messy yet concise. It takes talent, he has to admit.

 “What are you drawing?”

 “I snuck into your bedroom and took a picture of you sleeping. I decided to draw it and see how long it took you to realize you had a stalker. Did you know you drool in your sleep?”

 Percy’s grin falters and he brings a hand to wipe at his mouth subconsciously. He does, but she had no way of knowing that. 

“It’s just a random face,” she admits. “Nothing special to it.”

 “Hm.” Percy plucks the pencil from between her fingers, ignoring her sounds of protest. She gives in eventually, just letting him have it. “Can I ask you something?”

 “You better fucking not.”

“Why are you covered in paint, then? If you’re into drawing, I mean.”

“I’m into art, Percy. I paint too.”

“And ruin all your clothes, apparently.”

 “You’re literally so dumb it hurts.”

Percy pushes her head, insulted. Annabeth just laughs, and Percy has to ignore the sharp stab of affection he feels. He hates her, he tells himself. 

“I’m in an art class,” she says. “I’m not going to wear new clothes only to get them covered in paint, so I just wear the clothes already covered in paint.”

“And do all of your clothes consist of band t-shirts and denim overalls.”

“Not all of them. I do have some shorts.”

 Percy laughs.

 “I’m aware it doesn’t look great, but I’ll survive.”

“I think it looks good,” he says without thinking. It’s not until she’s giving him a smirk that he’s stumbling to find something else to say to negate his words. “I mean…it looks awful. The most hideous clothes I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah? Then why’s your face so red?”

 “Because I’m embarrassed for you and your terrible sense of style.”

Annabeth eyes him up and down. “Hm. Bold talk for someone that wears the same swim sweater every day.”

“It’s for my girlfriend,” he lies. “She gets cold.”

Annabeth snorts. “This girlfriend is as real as you saying I’m ugly.”

“I didn’t say you were ugly. Just your clothes.” 

“So you think I’m pretty.”

 “Uh…no?”

“Percy Jackson thinks I’m pretty,” she says fondly.

“Percy Jackson thinks you’re an asshole,” he corrects.

“At least I’m an asshole who’s pretty.” Annabeth snatches the pencil he’d been holding back and sets it down. “Am I prettier than your girlfriend?”

Percy just crosses his arms and looks away.

“I’m going to be insulted if you say no, considering your girlfriend doesn’t exist.”

“Sent from Hell itself, I swear,” he mutters.

 “I’m telling everyone you lied about having a girlfriend.”

“I dare you,” he says. “See what happens.”

“Gladly.” Annabeth turns her attention away from him to look at someone quickly approaching, and Percy gets whiplash from how fast her smile becomes genuine.

Percy isn’t sure who the girl is that sits next to the two of them, but he knows it can’t be good if she’s also covered in paint. It’s one of her art buddies, he concludes, and he is rightfully terrified.

“Piper,” Annabeth says. “You’re covered in paint, you know.”

“I know,” Piper answers. Her eyes dart towards Percy, and he thinks he spots recognition, which is funny since he has no idea who she is. “I think I have Jason’s handprint on my ass.”

“You need to stop hooking up in the art supplies room or I’ll have to report you,” Annabeth says.

“Or maybe you need to start,” Piper says. “Always so uptight.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Maybe he can help you,” Piper says, jerking her head towards Percy. 

Up until then, he had just been staring between the two of them, but when their eyes turn to him, Percy blinks dumbly. It takes a few seconds for her words to register in his mind, but when they do, he’s horrified.

“Hook up with Annabeth? Not a chance.”

Piper rolls her eyes. “I can smell the sexual tension from here.”

 “Who even are you?”

 “I’m Piper. Haven’t you been listening?” She looks at Annabeth and shakes her head as to say, get a load of this guy. “I can see why he pisses you off so often.”

 “So, you were talking about me?” Percy asks, eyes on Annabeth.  

“Only in insult,” she says. “Don’t worry. I would never speak kindly of you.”

“It’s true,” Piper tells him. “You need to learn to stop pissing her off because I end up having to deal with it.” 

“She was mean first,” he accuses. “I did try being nice.”

Annabeth laughs loudly. “ When? ”

“The first week of school on Pearl Harbor. I just tried to talk to you, and you came out swinging. ” 

“You weren’t listening.”

“You didn’t even have enough time to discover I hadn’t been listening before you decided to hate me.”

 “I could smell your arrogance. That’s why.”

 “You sure it wasn’t your own arrogance suffocating you?” he asks innocently.

“Do you guys always fight like this?” Piper asks.

 “We do,” Annabeth says. “Only because he’s a menace to society.”

“ Please. You just hopped right out of your mother’s womb and chose to hate me. I didn’t do shit.”

“You breathe the same oxygen as me, and that’s enough.”

“I’m her personal punching bag,” Percy says to Piper. “Can you believe this?”

“I can see that,” Piper says, nodding. “But I have no mercy. Better you than me.”

“Take her back,” he pleads. “I don’t want her.”

“You chose to sit behind her, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know it would be like this. I repent.”

Annabeth chokes on a laugh.

“You are relieved of your sins,” Piper says. “But you still have to suck it up and deal with it.”

 Percy sighs, but he thinks he’ll survive.

Piper and Annabeth begin talking again, leaving Percy to sit back and watch the two of them begin their own playful bantering.

 In all honesty, Percy doesn’t think it’s the worst thing to sit behind her. It’s his daily routine, getting to be insulted by her. He’s learned to brush off the things she says anyways, so it doesn’t really hurt him in the slightest. He’s become attached, even he has to admit, which is stupid because they’re not even friends. It’s something he’s found he does a lot, getting attached in places that he shouldn’t. 

He’s been told that he falls in love with everyone he meets just a little bit, and he can’t help but think about how true it feels right now.

He’s not in love with her in normal terms, but he does love what he’s created. It’s a constant in his life. He knows that she’ll be there, even if it’s to insult him. And sure, she’s not what society would deem nice, but he really doesn’t think that she’s as bad as so many people like to say.

 Watching her with Piper, he’s able to tell that she loves her friends with a deep passion. Maybe she’s difficult to become friends with, but once she is, he has no doubt that she loves them with every fiber of her being.  

Percy really doesn’t mean to analyze her, but it’s so blatant now that he’s thinking about it. She’s devoted to the things she loves in every way. She’s devoted to her art and to her friends. Even the less common things like the excruciating relationship she has going on with him, she’s devoted to. He can’t help but wonder if she’s like him — easily falling in love with every bit of person she finds, getting attached to the things that she shouldn’t.

It makes him feel a little better to think that maybe she’s as attached to their silly history class just so that they can tease each other.

 Percy smiles, and Annabeth teases him over it. 

When she looks away again, his eyes are on her. They’re on her messy denim overalls and her hair, and the little streak of blue paint that lines right beneath her jaw on her neck. Percy knows he’s fallen in love, not with her, but with the sense of normalcy he feels with her. It scares him. 

Annabeth’s mean and devoted and passionate. He loves those bits about her.

Annabeth herself, though? 

Percy tells himself he hates her.

Percy is desperately trying to escape from class when he runs into Annabeth.

Well, he doesn’t physically run into her, but he sees her outside of the school near the brick walls and decides that’s good enough reason to risk getting caught by administration.

She doesn’t catch sight of him immediately — her back is turned to him as she’s painting something on the wall — so Percy approaches slowly, taking time to take in the situation.

 He figures she’s painting a mural on the wall for her art class by the way the entire brick layout is colored. There are paint cans on the ground, more than he’s willing to count at the moment, and a few other straggling students holding paintbrushes and ladders. Annabeth herself is covered in wet paint; he recognizes the outfit but not the new handprint that lines the pocket of her shorts, and when he spots Piper only a few feet away, it doesn’t take him long to put together that Piper is the source of the handprint. 

Piper sees him first and holds up a paintbrush in greeting.

“Jackson,” she says accusingly. “Skipping class?”

 “You can hardly blame me when Annabeth isn’t in class either,” Percy says, stopping in front of them. Annabeth turns her head at her name, and she gives a fond eyeroll in his direction before continuing with the painting. “She’s the only source of entertainment I ever get in that class.”

“But I had permission,” Annabeth says without looking at him. “Something I take you did not get?”

“I wanted to come see my friends,” Percy says, cheekily.

“You two are friends? ” The voice is someone new, and Percy only spares one glance in the kid’s direction.

“Who are you?” 

“Leo,” he introduces. “An art kid.”

 Percy blinks in his direction in acknowledgement before focusing his attention on Annabeth. She’s still not looking at him, opting to trace over brick with black. She’s cute like this, he thinks, when she’s focused so deeply on something she loves. It’s different from when she draws in class. Here, she is engulfed by the beauty of it all, surrounded by her art. 

As picturesque as it is, Percy wants her eyes on him.

“Annabeth,” he starts, “Why are you skipping class? Aren’t you all about paying attention and making perfect scores?”

 It’s then that Percy decides to get closer to her. He tosses his bag down somewhere along the wall before he goes to her and leans on the wall next to the ladder she’s perched on.

“I’m here because I was asked to be,” she tells him.

 “The school thought the kids needed something to be brighter,” Piper says. “Figured it would make us happier to have something to look at.”

“But it’s on the outside of the school,” Percy ponders. “No one can see it.” 

Annabeth grins. Percy thinks it looks endearing from where he is along the wall. “No one said it was a good idea.”

“Where would you have put it, then?” Percy asks. “If you’re such an artist.” 

“I would paint every wall in this school if I could,” she tells him. “But you already knew that.”

“I did. I guess I know you pretty well, don’t I?”

“You know how to piss her off,” Leo interjects, holding a hand in Percy’s direction. He’s also holding a black bucket of paint and a paintbrush in one arm that is dangerously close to spilling all over him. “I know we’ve never met, but believe me, when you make her mad, I have to listen to it all day.”

“Give him a break,” Piper says to Leo, “They’re flirting when they fight.”

 Annabeth snorts. “Absolutely not.”

Leo scratches his ear. “No?”

“We’re more like frenemies,” Percy says.

 “Minus the friends,” Annabeth adds.

 Piper rolls her eyes and says to Leo, “They’re flirting.”

Percy doesn’t particularly mind the teasing, but he has to admit that the way Annabeth laughs incredulously does hurt his feelings just a little bit. Sure, they fight, but in his eyes, it’s (mostly) playful. Surely, it couldn’t be that farfetched to consider there might be just a little bit of flirting between the two of them.

 His eyes are on her, but hers are on Piper and Leo, who seem to have decided they had better places to be as they walk down the hall and around the corner. The timing makes him think that it wasn’t at all a coincidence they left when they did, especially with the way Piper’s elbowing Leo pointedly as they round the corner and end up out of sight.

Percy’s not complaining, though.

“I only flirt with smart guys,” Annabeth says, finally turning and planting her eyes on him. 

Percy warms up at the gaze she gives him. There’s a hint of a smile on her lips, and he realizes that she’s amused with the way she’s teasing him. If she wants to tease, he’ll let her, so long as it’s him. 

He settles all his weight against the wall now, his back pressed against the cool brick.

“I’m smart,” Percy argues.  

“Are you?”

“ Yes!”

“You know you’re leaning on wet paint, right?” 

Percy jumps off the brick and cranes his head behind him — it doesn’t take much to see the bright blue paint all up and down his backside.

Annabeth snickers at him.  

“Stop laughing,” Percy says.

“What were you saying? Something about being smart?”

Percy points a finger at her. “Shut up, Chase.” 

 Giggles keep bubbling up her throat. 

“I mean it,” he says, “or else I’ll take that paintbrush and cover you in it.”

“Try me. That’s what these clothes are made for.”

“Well…I’ve got nothing.”

Percy stops looking at her for a moment, if only to cool the blush he has on his face. It doesn’t really work – he can still feel the way his face is heated, how her eyes are on him – so he keeps his face turned towards the mural instead.

It looks flawless now that he’s really getting a chance to look at it. It’s a scene of a beach, with the sun setting beyond the water. It’s a nice change to the city of New York. It looks real and soft as opposed to the bright paintings he’s seen in his past. The water is a crystalline blue with swirling waves, the sky a blend of only the most beautiful of pinks and golds. 

It feels like a scene he can hop right into, and he is in awe that Annabeth created this.

“Alright there?” Annabeth asks playfully. “You get seaweed in that head of yours looking at the beach?”

Percy grins and looks at her. “Only a little bit. It looks really good.”

“I’m glad you think so. Could you come here?”

She says it with such a serious face that he listens. He comes right up to the ladder she’s on. She’s higher than him, his face reaching about where her knees are, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she bends down to be more to his height.

“Did you need something?” Percy questions.

Annabeth laughs in his face. “No. You just have something on your face.”  

Percy’s brows furrow. “What is it?” 

“Paint.”

He groans and brings his palm to his face to find it. “Where?”

 “Right here. Let me show you.”

Percy doesn’t even get the chance to stop her before she brings a paintbrush to his face and drags it from his forehead to his chin, pulling a thick coat of paint straight down his face.

“ Annabeth !”

“Well, there’s paint on your face now, anyways.”

He wipes at his face, but it only smears the paint further. He thinks a bit got into his mouth, which makes him sputter, and he’s certain he’s bluer than a smurf at this point.

Percy shoots Annabeth a glare, but she just holds her stomach as she laughs. “You think this is funny?”

Annabeth shakes her head, but she’s giggling too much to actually give him a verbal response. 

He spots her holding the brush up with one arm, and the brush is close enough to her face that if he could just…

Annabeth’s gasp is sharp as he knocks her hand so that the paintbrush hits her own face. Percy grins triumphantly, but it is quickly wiped away when she begins to step off the ladder.

Percy screeches. “You did it first!” 

Annabeth doesn’t say anything. She just points to her face, and he knows she means it seriously, but there’s just a giant blob of blue on her nose and mouth that he can’t take seriously. His snicker comes choked in his throat, very clearly directed at her, and Annabeth takes one step towards him.

She looks scary, he must admit, but he knows her well enough to see through the face she has on. He’s able to catch the sparkle in her eyes that tells him she’s only playing. There’s the tiny quirk of her lip that means she finds this amusing. It makes him happy to know that she is, and it brings a smile to his lips despite her slowly advancing towards him.

“I’m not scared of you, Chase.”

“You really, truly should be.”

“What are you going to do? Paint me?” he taunts.

“Drown you in highly viscous paint.”

Death by paint does sound horrid, but he gets no time to dwell on it before she throws the paintbrush at him with alarming accuracy. It hits him square in the chest, and quite honestly knocks the breath out of him. 

“This was a new shirt, princess,” Percy complains, pulling the fabric so that it doesn’t stick to his body.”

“It’ll serve as a token of my victory,” she says. “You’re welcome.”

Percy feels a tingle down the back of his neck as he looks at her. Annabeth thinks the wall behind her is art, but he thinks the real art is her. She’s small against the wall, and she perfectly fits into the background, with her paint splattered shorts and black t-shirt with specks of the rainbow. 

It’s a soft, cinematic scene, and he’s the one here to see it.

“You’re cute,” he says, “thinking I’d let you win.”

“You might not let me win, but you’re surely going to lose either way.”

And that, he decides, is a challenge.

The paintbrush ends up flying through the air again, painting her hair, and her whine rings through the air. It’s short-lived though when she picks up a bucket of paint and has the audacity to jerk it in his direction, sending an entire wave of paint down his torso.

“Princess!”

Annabeth tosses the empty bucket to the side and tilts her head like an innocent puppy. 

“You’re in so much trouble,” he informs, but his voice is anything but disappointed.

“Am I?”

“Come here,” he pleads, arms out. “Give me a hug.”

“Not a chance.”

But Percy steps towards her. She takes one step back, but she’s already against the wall. 

“I will not hesitate to kick you.”

 “Oh, but I just want your hug!”

Annabeth’s cornered, nowhere to go, so he takes his time strolling up to her. Annabeth mouths off to him, but she does it with a smile brighter than the sun.

When he wraps her in his arms and squeezes, covering her in a thick coat of latex paint, Annabeth doesn’t fight it. Instead, she laughs in his arms and lets her forehead drop to his shoulder.

“I hate you,” Annabeth says.

“Because I won?”

“You didn’t win,” she argues lightly. She tilts her head back and leans it against the wall so that she can look up at him. Percy feels like he’s holding the world in his arms, and it scares him a little bit. He almost drops his arms, but she’s looking at him with something he’s never seen, and so instead, he brings a hand up to wipe away at the paint that’s coating her cheek.

“I did,” Percy says, “but you were a close second.”

“Cute.” 

“It’s just honesty,” he says, dropping his hand from her cheek. “But you know what is cute?” 

“Hm?”

“The painting.” He looks above her now. The sun is painted above her head, and he wonders what she would look like if she were actually there in the moment, shining beneath the true sun. “It’s really amazing.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Of course I do.”

 “I was worried it would look bad. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to paint this.”

 “Nothing you’ve ever done has looked bad,” he tells her, genuinely. “You’re talented, Annabeth.”

“Coming from you, it must be true.” 

Percy’s lips twitch. “Why did you paint a beach?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“You’d make fun of me.”

Percy blows a raspberry. “I would not.”

“You like the beach, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but—”

“That’s why.” Annabeth bites her lip in a grin. “I don’t know why, but it was the first thing I thought of when the school asked the art kids to paint a mural, and I realized it was because you like the beach. You mentioned always going to this beach when you were little, so…”

“You remember that?”

“Yeah,” she says, humor in her voice. “I had told you something along the lines of beaches are for losers. ”

“And now you’re painting beaches,” he says. “You’ve come full circle.”

“You’ve had influence on me. I can’t say I appreciate it.”

“ Suuuure. ” Percy drops his hands from around her entirely now, but he immediately misses the contact. “You know you love being around me.”

“Whoever told you that lied.” 

Percy raises an eyebrow, stifling a snicker. 

“Anyways. You asked why I chose a beach. That’s why.”

Percy’s eyes glance above her again, and his heart yearns to see her beneath the sun in front of the real waves. He had no intentions of saying anything, but he has to find out if she’s as beautiful in front of the beach he’s always loved as she is standing before him now.

“One day, I’ll take you.” 

Annabeth blinks. “What?”

“Montauk Beach,” he says. “That was the beach I was talking about that day. And I just…you’d like it there. And I want you to see the real thing.”

“You want to take me to Montauk Beach?”

“Not now,” he says. “Just…someday.”

Annabeth pauses, then says, “Okay.”

 “Okay?”

“Not now, but maybe one day,” she agrees. “I think I’d like to see what holds the great Percy Jackson’s heart.”

“You’ll have to be careful or else you’ll fall in love with it too.”

 Annabeth turns and looks at the mural. “I think I already have.”

Percy feels his heart tug, but he chooses to ignore it. They’re friends, and they fight. That’s all there is to it.

 “How much longer until it’s finished?” Percy asks, nodding towards the wall. 

“It was just about done when you came over. All that’s left are the signatures, really.”

 “The signatures?”

“The artists get to sign their work.” And so, she picks a can of paint that’s scattered on the ground and places her hand against the surface of the liquid. He thinks she’s going to press the print into the wall, but she turns to him instead, prompting him to raise a brow in question.

“Me too?” he asks when she grabs his hand and passes the paint to him. 

“I think you deserve to have your name up there, don’t you think?” She laces their fingers together, and Percy’s heart pounds. It feels right, her hand in his. “After all, this painting is because of you.”

“Are you sure?”

 “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you to do it,” she tells him honestly.

Annabeth drags him closer to the wall and looks back at him once before pressing her hand to the wall. She signals for him to copy her, so he does, choosing a spot right next to her hand. They keep it there for only a few seconds before letting up and stepping back.

His handprint looks a lot larger than hers, but it looks right. It’s like a puzzle with a perfect fit. Somehow, the art looks better when it’s them together. It’s an effervescent feeling that he wants to live in forever.  

He’s told himself so many times that they fight too much and couldn’t possibly be friends but looking at the handprints that appear as though they’ve always belonged together, it couldn’t seem further from the truth.

“Do you like it?” Annabeth asks. 

“More than I can say. Does this mean we’re friends?”

“Do you think it means friends?” 

“I’d say best friends, but I wouldn’t want you to think I was pushing it.”

“I don’t think that,” Annabeth tells him. 

 It’s then that Percy feels it, simmering beneath his skin. Somehow, among all the taunts in history class and lighthearted conversations fabricated as arguments, they’ve become friends. 

If he had to pinpoint when it began, he’d say it started when he got used to her. It started that first day she gave him her signature look when he walked into history, and every day after that. It became a routine, and somewhere along the way, he fell in love with having her there. 

He knows he’s not in love with her, but he’s in love with her position in his life. With the normalcy they’ve created, their routine and regularity. It’s part of Percy’s personality, falling in love with constants, and he now knows it’s a part of Annabeth too. She asked for his handprint, something that will lie with the mural forever, and she has fallen in love with the things that never change.

They’ve become friends, and he realizes it started the second he sat next to her, a wondrous butterfly effect.

He thinks hatred is overrated anyways.

Percy comes to fall in love with the winter.

 Seasons change, he’s aware, but it’s impossible to not fall in love with the winter when he’s surrounded by Annabeth. She’s entranced by the sparkle of the white snow that falls upon the buildings. She appreciates the way his hair blows in the chilling New York wind, and the way sunlight reflects in the windows when it peeks through the grey clouds that match her stormy eyes. 

She’s in love with the winter, and he’s in love with that about her. 

Now, she sits on his fire escape in his mother’s apartment, and she doesn’t even notice him standing behind her against the concrete of the building, looking over her shoulder like the first day of school. 

It’s cute, the way that she becomes so captivated by her art that the world around her ceases to exist. It lets him watch her without inhibition, something he’s grown to love as they’ve spent more time around each other. There’s just something about the gentle traces on her sketchbook paper and the effortlessness with which she draws. She’s able to bring a world to life from nothing, and…he loves that. 

“Hey,” Percy breathes, closing the window behind him. 

She doesn’t move, but he knows she heard him. She keeps drawing, but he can’t see what it is from his position. What he can see is her hair that is loose for once. Her curls blow in the wind too, and it looks incredibly soft. He almost wants to run his fingers through her hair and untangle what the wind has done. 

“Are you just going to keep breathing over me like that?”

Percy rolls his eyes at the statement from their past. “I’m not breathing over you this time.”

She lifts her head to look at him, and he smiles at her. “It’s symbolic.”

“Of what?”

“When you used to be a prick.”

“Ouch.”

Annabeth sniffs, no doubt a result of the cold, and turns back to her work. “Sit.”

He does, settling onto the fire escape next to her. Her legs dangle off the edge, and he lets his own legs do the same. 

The air feels crisp. It’s refreshing, though it does sting his nose with how cold it is. He wonders how she’s not freezing, considering she isn’t even wearing a jacket. She seems entirely unaffected, but he knows that’s just how she is when she’s consumed by what she loves.

“What are you drawing?” Percy asks. He places one arm behind her so that he can lean in closer and get a better view of the paper. He’s not touching her, but he’s close enough that he can feel the warmth of her body.

She looks at him then with a teasing grin. “Do you not know what a building looks like?”

“I do,” he says, shoving her shoulder gently. “But you never draw buildings. It’s always people, or nature, but…I’ve never seen you do buildings before.”

“I guess I just thought it was pretty,” she tells him. “I mean, look at it.”

He follows her gaze towards the buildings he’s already spent forever staring at. 

“You can’t tell me that doesn’t look like a dream, with the snow falling like that.”

“It looks like a winter in New York.”

Annabeth laughs quietly and looks down. “You’ve got no creativity, I’m telling you.”

“Why would I need creativity when you have enough for the both of us?”

“You’re right,” she says, sighing. “I’m really doing the heavy-lifting in this friendship."

“ Hey!”

Annabeth swings her feet as she giggles, and he thinks it’s just about the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“You’re sitting a little close to the edge to be bullying me,” he warns playfully. 

“ Please, like you’d ever push me. You love me too much."

“Whoever told you that lied,” Percy says.

“I’m no liar,” she argues. 

Percy watches as she sets the sketchbook down to her side and leans back on her palms. She’s leaning lightly into his chest, trusting him to support her weight, and it makes Percy’s head feel a bit fuzzy. The grating of the fire escape is piercing into the skin of his hands by now, and it hurts just a little bit, but he rather enjoys the contact with Annabeth, so he just bites his tongue and smiles down at her.

“Did you know I used to want to be an architect?” Annabeth says.

He almost misses her saying it after the fall of silence, and it’s nearly carried away into the wind. It takes him a moment to comprehend her words.

“Really?”

“Mh-hm. When I was younger, I would always play with the blocks at school, just stacking and unstacking them. I liked building and designing for most of my life. That’s why I love sitting out here too – I’m able to see the pretty buildings I used to dream of making.” 

“And you don’t want to anymore?”

“Yes and no. I wanted to create something permanent for a long time, and that’s what got me so into art and creation. I wanted to be an architect because I could create something that would last forever when nothing else does. But then I realized that buildings are overlooked. Sure, they’re pretty, but people don’t really notice them in the way that I would want them to. They’re just kind of…there, something that people need for survival.”

“But some people consider it art,” he tells her.

“But some people don’t,” she says. “Paintings and sculptures and pictures – those bring people joy in a way I’m not sure a building on the corner of a block would. And I guess I realized that I don’t care so much about creating something permanent if I could bring people something that they’ll remember, and something that’ll make them happy.”

Percy doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t think he needs to. Annabeth seems to be talking to no one in particular, and he wants her to keep talking. He wants to hear everything she has to say.

“A building doesn’t bring people joy; art does. That’s why I’m so pro-art.”

“But you should do what makes you happy,” he says. 

“Trust me when I say I am. I love what I do, and I want to do it for the rest of my life. I love picking up a pencil or paintbrush more than I ever would’ve loved sitting in front of blueprints. I think that’s because of the effect it has.”

Percy shifts his hands, wincing at the sharp pain of the indents on his palms. “What’s your favorite, then? Art medium?”

“If I had to choose, it would definitely be painting. It takes quite a bit of time, but there’s something divine about being covered in paint and watching something come to life one stroke at a time.”

“You kick ass at painting, too,” he says.

“I’m glad you think so,” she says. Her foot nudges his from over the edge. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“What’s your favorite type of art?”

Percy doesn’t miss a beat. “Painting.” 

Annabeth laughs. “Painting?”

“Painting,” he confirms. He presses his foot against hers again, grinning in delight when she does it back softly. “How could it not be after our mini paint fight?”

“I almost forgot about that,” she says.

“ What? That’s my favorite memory of us!”

“Really? Not this? Us confiding our deepest secrets to one another?”

“You act as though your liking to paint was a secret.”

Annabeth shoots him a look, and Percy nearly melts on the spot. He pushes a strand of hair that was blowing in front of his face behind her ear.

“This is a close second,” he promises.

“It better be. I’m telling you my deepest thoughts.”

“And I thank you for trusting me with your deepest thoughts which just so happen to be common knowledge.”

“And in return, you’re required to tell me about something that you love.”

“You already know everything about yourself,” Percy says innocently.

“Smooth.”

“You should kiss me for it.”

Annabeth presses her lips together to stop the smile from seeping through. “At most, you get a hug.”

Percy decides to cash in right then and there. He opens his arms for her and she slides right in willingly. Her face presses into his shirt, and he holds her tight, trying his best to shield her from the wind as it begins to pick up again.

The sky seems to have been getting darker as they sat on the fire escape. He’s sure it’ll start to get colder and heavier outside in due time, but he doesn’t want to end their escapades just yet.

“It’s going to storm,” she says, reading his mind. 

“That’s alright.”

Annabeth curls deeper into his body and shivers once. “It’s cold.”

“Do you want my jacket?”

“If you’re not too cold, then yes please.”

He lets go of her for a moment, if only to slide his jacket off and hand it to her. She puts it on quickly, and it’s only a few seconds later before she resumes her position in his arms. 

It’s funny, he thinks, how she fits just like a puzzle. She feels right in his arms, like she’s been missing all his life. He thinks about how much Annabeth feels like coming home, and it makes him laugh to realize how they first met. That Annabeth couldn’t be further from reality, and the reality was that she was the sweetest person he’s ever met. 

Percy can’t help but admit he has a little bit of a crush on her, but honestly, he doesn’t think anyone wouldn’t after knowing her in the way he does. 

“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” she says, knocking him on the chest with a finger. “You still have to tell me about something you love.”

“And you don’t count?”

She gives him an adoring look. “Nope. You’re going to have to go a little deeper than that.”

“What’s deeper than a declaration of love?”

“Something you actually mean, ” she says. 

Percy frowns slightly, but she can’t see it. He’s saying it humorously, but he really does mean it when he says he loves her. She’s his best friend — of course he loves her. 

“I love swimming,” Percy admits. “I also like milkshakes. I love watching movies, and I love my mom, and I love my friends.”

“That’s a lot of things you love.”

“My mom says I fall in love with everything, just a little bit.”

“You do.”

Percy blinks. “What?”

“I’ve noticed that recently, you falling in love with the people around you. It’s endearing.”

“Have you really?”

“I have. It’s not a bad thing. It just means you love your friends, and you’d do anything for them.”

Percy’s fingers absentmindedly mess with the ends of her hair, twirling the strands between his fingertips. 

“The art of observation,” she says. “You’re not the only one good with it.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Percy says. “You’ve always been the best with observation with that critical eye you’ve got.”

“I am the best, aren’t I?” she says, nonchalant.

“I can see your ego inflating.”

“Is it inflating my ego if it’s just the truth?”

Percy laughs and ducks his face to her shoulder. He can’t even argue with that logic because Annabeth really is the best at everything. Her talent expands beyond the typical realms of art, which makes her capable of just about anything. It’s embarrassing sometimes when they’re just doing something new, and she manages to kick his ass into tomorrow without even trying.

“There really is nothing you’re bad at,” Percy tells her. “It’s unfair.”

“I’m bad at writing,” she says.

“I doubt that.”

“I’m so serious. Last year in English, Dodds gave me a terrible grade on our stories.”

“It couldn’t have been worse than mine.”

“I believe I got around a fifty.” 

“Ha! I’ve got you beat! I got a thirty.”

Annabeth snorts. “How do you manage to do worse than a fifty!? ” 

“You’re not the only talented one here,” he says, inspecting his fingernails as though to seem unbothered. 

“I’ll give that to you,” she says. “Doing worse than me in English definitely takes talent. ”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Of sorts,” Annabeth says. “It’s a shame, though. That’s the one type of art I’ve never been able to succeed with. I used to read poetry — Sonnet 19 was my favorite — and it made me realize that you could write, and it’ll bring people joy. It’s permanent too because your writing lives on even after you die, which is part of the whole thing I loved about architecture.”

“You’re going to make something permanent,” he promises. “I have no doubt your name will be in museums centuries from now, right along with Van Gogh and Da Vinci.” 

“ Please. You have no idea how much I’d cry if that happened.”

“ When that happens,” he corrects, “because it will."

“Could you imagine them teaching about Annabeth Chase in textbooks?” 

“Not that people like me read those things,” Percy says.

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but her smile illuminates the world.

“And for what it’s worth, about that writing thing, Dodds was just an asshole. I don’t think she passed anyone.”

“That’s true.”

“And even if your writing was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen…you’ve gotta leave some talent to other people,” he says, pinching her arm lightly. 

“I want it all.”

 “Okay, Sharpay Evans. Want your star on the door, too?”

“What?”

 “Nothing.”

 “I guess I can leave some talent to other people,” she says. “But not you, Mr. Thirty Percent.”

“You sure love to insult me.”

“It’s fond bullying,” she says.

 “Well, in that case…”

 He can hear the soft laugh of Annabeth against his chest. She’s not even looking up anymore. She’s just snuggled in his arms, curled up as far against him as possible, and Percy feels the weight of the world lies in his hands. It feels incredibly intimate for two best friends, but he doesn’t mind. If he could, he would spend every moment like this, feeling the warmth she offers, the slow breaths she takes, the sniffles from the cold. 

From his position, he can see her face, though she’s not looking at him. Her blinks are slow, and he knows she must be exhausted, but he doesn’t say anything.

 Percy holds her tighter and wishes he could give her the world. 

 “Does this count as cuddling?” Percy asks, humored, breaking the silence.

“Hmm. Yes, but only because it’s you.”

“It wouldn’t be cuddling if it was anyone else?”

“Nope. This is an exclusively Percy-and-Annabeth event.”

Her saying that definitely makes his face break into a smile, but he can feel her shaking from the cold, and he’s not willing to stay in this moment no matter how much he loves it if she’s going to get hurt.

 Percy presses his face into the top of her head and whispers, “Would this still be an exclusive event if we moved inside? I don’t want you to be cold.”

“I don’t know. Can we watch movies and eat cookies?”

“We better. ” He lets go of her and brings himself to his feet, holding a hand out to help her up. She takes it and stands, brushing off her sweatpants, before following him back inside the apartment.

Percy accidentally slams his head into the top of the window as he tries to duck back inside, and she laughs at his string of curses before slipping through the open window after him. He immediately feels the drastic change in temperature, and it almost makes him break into a light sweat at how hot the air feels from outside.

He turns towards her and holds out a hand. “Couch?” 

Annabeth smiles and takes his hand. 

It’s a good twenty minutes before they’re situated as they were outside. This time, they’re on the couch, Annabeth wrapped in at least three different blankets, leaving Percy to suffer the heat as he’s right behind her, letting her lean against him. It’s incredibly warm, and it’s not going to get any better with how she has them wrapped in blankets, but he truly doesn’t mind. His brain is simple, and when he’s in contact with Annabeth, all thoughts are wiped away.

She’s cute, too, with nothing but her face peeking out from the blankets. She holds a cookie in front of her with one hand while holding the blankets closed with the other, and Percy thinks he wants to kiss her.

Instead, he steals a bite of her cookie.

“ Hey, ” she says, jerking her hand away. “Stop it. This is my cookie.”

 “I thought we were best friends? Best friends share cookies.”

 “I don’t know who told you that, but this best friend doesn’t,” Annabeth says, but she gives in with a sigh and gives him another bite. “You better be grateful. I’d never have shared with Piper.”

 “Simple explanation: I’m better than Piper.”

“No, you’re not. Piper tells me she wants to marry me.”

“I mean…I could also do that if you wanted me to.”

Annabeth throws her head back in a laugh and looks up at him from her position on his chest. He has to resist pressing a kiss to her nose. “You could,” she says, “but maybe not today.”

 Percy can’t help but think it sounds more like a promise than anything.

 “You know,” Percy says, shifting in his seat, “earlier when I said that I loved you, you said to talk about something I actually loved.”

 “I just wanted you to be serious,” she tells him. “I wanted to hear about things you do that make you happy, like art does for me.”

 Percy nods, thinking. He had said it in a joking manner, but he meant it when he said he loves her. He always has, every bit of her. At first, he doesn’t want to tell her that, but then the thought of her thinking he would throw something like that into the air without any regard to the weight it holds…it makes him feel sick.

 “For what it’s worth,” he starts, “I do love you.” 

Percy truly doesn’t expect anything in return. He just wants her to know how much she really does mean to him, how important a part of his life she’s become in such short time, so he’s surprised when she tilts her head up and brushes her thumb gently against his cheek, giving him a quiet response seconds later.

“I know.”

Percy’s never been to an art festival, but he finds that he rather enjoys the environment. 

It’s bustling with people in some park he’s never heard of, and everyone seems to be just as excited as he’s beginning to feel. It’s not that Percy’s experienced in these sorts of things, because he’s not — he doesn’t think he’s been to an art festival in all of his life — but he sure does love it, if only because he’s able to see Annabeth in the place she loves most.

He hasn’t been able to find her anywhere in the park for at least an hour, and he’s long given up on it. He just strolls around in hopes of spotting her, but really, he is starting to appreciate the things he sees more. There are so many people that are incredibly gifted with art, and that becomes obvious when he passes canvas after canvas along with several sculptures.

 (None are quite as good as Annabeth’s, he can’t help but think).

 It takes another half hour of strolling around before he sees her. He almost misses her, but she turns her head to laugh at the person next to her, and he couldn’t possibly miss the look of pure happiness on her face.

He has to squeeze through a lot of people before he makes it to her, but she doesn’t notice him even once he’s right behind her. He uses it as an opportunity to slide an arm around her waist and tug her lightly towards him as he murmurs a humored, “It’s about time I found you.”

 Annabeth doesn’t even look at him when she grins at the familiar voice, but she lets herself lean further into his arms. “Did it really take you that long?”

“I’m pretty sure I was walking around for at least an hour,” he says. “This place is huge. You could’ve given me a heads up.”

She does turn around now, if only to pout mockingly. Her hand goes up to his face to brush his own pout off, and he leans slightly into the touch. “It’s not my fault you’re terrible with directions.”

“Don’t be mean,” he scolds. “I came here for you.”

“And I’m so glad you did so, but really, it could not have been that hard.”

“Knowing you, you were probably moving around just to make things more difficult for me.”

She gives him a knowing grin but doesn’t dispute his words. 

“Either way, I’m here now,” he says. “Do you know what we’re supposed to do now?”

“It’s an art festival! You’re supposed to have fun.”

“But what about that competition you mentioned?”

“The judges will walk around and look at the entries, but there’s nothing else for me to do. We just walk around and look at everything else.”

“Can I see yours?”

Annabeth bites at her lower lip as though scratching an itch and looks away. 

“Come on,” he pleads. “You’ve kept it a secret from me for weeks! I want to see it."

“You have to promise you won’t make fun of me.” 

“Why would I ever do that?”

“It’s mortifying,” she says. “And I mean it’s…actually really embarrassing.”

“It can’t be that bad,” he says. “Show me. I promise I’ll be supportive.”

Annabeth sighs, but her lips twitch up as she grabs his hand. “You better be, or we might have to stop being friends.”

“Incentive,” he says, “See! You’ve got this.”

 She laces their fingers together, bumping his shoulder, and leads him off in a random direction. He’s just along for the ride, though he doesn’t look at much of the art. He’s too busy panicking about holding hands with her like this. He thinks his hands may be slightly sweaty, but if they are, she doesn’t say anything.  

They’re walking for at least five minutes, and he begins to think that she may be lying about taking him to her entry for the competition, but then she’s stopping and using their conjoined hands to point in a direction in front of them. 

“Go on then,” Annabeth says. “Let me know what you think.”

 “Where is it?”

“It’s right there. People are just blocking it, but you can shove through them.”

Percy tugs her hand along with him, refusing to let go, and she gets the message, this time, following him through the crowds. Even as he’s doing so, he’s hyperaware of the way her thumb keeps brushing against his hand where they’re laced together, and he knows she’s nervous.

He can’t begin to imagine why she’s nervous. He’s seen every painting she’s done by this point, and he’s loved every single one of them. She pours her heart and emotion into her work, and it makes her art the best he’s ever seen, so what is she…

 It clicks a moment later as he catches sight of the canvas.

 “Annabeth…” He stares at it in awe, captivated by every individual detail it holds.

 “So? What do you think?”

He squeezes her hand, unable to look away from the canvas filled with color. “That’s amazing, Annabeth. I–” 

Truly, Percy doesn’t know what to say. It’s beyond what words could even begin to explain. He couldn’t possibly describe the emotions he’s feeling right now, staring at the canvas with a face he recognizes all too well.

It’s a painting of him on the fire escape from weeks ago. He’s smiling at something in the distance, and she’s managed to capture the moment so well. His face is so detailed he can hardly believe that it’s a painting. His eyes are green in a perfect way, his hair black and blowing in the wind, and the buildings in the back are there too. It’s the same buildings she’d pointed out to him when confiding about her childhood dreams. 

It’s a moment that he hadn’t realized she had remembered so well. That day had been special to him, close to his heart, and he knows it was for her too, staring at the painting she’d spent weeks working on in secret, afraid of what he would think.

It breaks his heart, knowing she thought he’d judge her for this.

 “I love it,” he says, turning in towards her. “I’m serious. That’s…it means a lot. Thank you.”

“I know it’s a bit weird, and I probably should have asked, but I’ve had that image stuck in my mind, and I just couldn’t get it out. I never planned on showing anyone, but then I finished it, and couldn’t not show someone.”

“Thank you,” he says. “For showing me and trusting me with this.”

 “It’s your face,” she teases. “Thank you for trusting me. ”

 “There’s no way you won’t win. That’s the best one I’ve seen, hands down.”

“I really don’t care if I win. I just wanted you to like it.”

“I love it, Annabeth,” he says. “And I love you.”

Annabeth scoffs playfully, but steps into his open arms. He keeps her there for a second, breathing her in, thanking the gods above that she’s in his life, before he lets her go. He keeps his hand in hers though, and she doesn’t try to stop him.

“Is there anything else to do, then?”

“Piper and Leo are waiting for us,” she says. “How do you feel about trying your hand at painting?” 

“I would feel great about that.”

“You’re a bit excited to get your ass kicked in painting.”

Percy whines. “Does it have to be a competition?”

“It’s not any fun when it’s not a competition!” Annabeth pushes his back lightly to get him to start walking. “Come on. I’ll go easy on you.”

“Even going easy on me, I know I’m going to lose.”

“But is there anyone you’d rather lose to?”

Percy has a swept smile on his face as he thinks, No, there’s not.

They head in the direction of Piper and Leo this time, but they still take their time. Annabeth stops every once in a while to gush about paintings and the symbols she sees behind them, and Percy listens the best he knows how (which is not very well, but he does try).

He doesn’t understand much of the terminology that she uses, but she’s so animated and enthusiastic when she speaks that he can’t help but feel the same way. 

 At some point, he can’t help when his mind begins to drift away from paying attention. He’s still focused on her, but this time, it’s with trying to find things about her he hasn’t seen before. He adores the way she speaks with her hands when she’s trying to explain something to him in common language. She twists her fingers together, picking at the cuticles when she’s up close to a painting and analyzing the color schemes present, and it makes him feel warm. 

 When they get to a tent that’s filled with artistic supplies, she does this little jump of excitement she always does, and it never fails to make his heart skip a beat. She picks brushes and paints up, twisting them in her hands, asking him which is his favorite only to hear him say my favorite is whatever yours is. Every time he does that, she gives him a scolding look, but picks up the blue. He wonders if she does that because it’s her favorite or if because she knows him well enough to know it’ll always be his no matter how much he denies it. 

As much as he realizes Annabeth explores with her hands, he knows she explores with her eyes even more. Her eyes — the grey eyes he’s fallen in love with — dart from one thing to the next, and he can see the inquisitive nature they hold. They peek at curves and lines, picking up at patterns, memorizing every detail so that she can use it herself in the future. It’s no wonder she is who she is, with such an aptitude for art, when she’s able to use her eyes so critically, picking up on things that no one else could.

Time flies when he’s with her. Her eyes are on the world around them, but his are on hers, wondering how he’s missed this all his life. 

By the time they actually do end up with Piper and the others, Percy feels the world shines a little bit brighter.

“Are you ready to paint and lose ?” Annabeth whispers in his ear.

 “To you? Always.” And he means it.

So they sit at a plastic table in the area of the festival dedicated to interactive painting, and chaos ensues. Really, there was no way it wouldn’t be chaotic with so many people crowded in one area yielding paint. But it’s a blast, and certainly an experience Percy is glad to have. 

 Annabeth sits next to Percy, and the two of them are across from Piper and Leo, and each of them hold a small canvas just big enough to sit in the palm of a hand. Getting paint is difficult with thirty other people trying to do the same thing, and it makes him concerned for whoever thought it would be a good idea to have interactive painting when there were likely thousands of people at this art festival. 

“This canvas is shit,” Annabeth says, trying to paint a white coat over it.

Piper holds her own canvas up in front of her face and hums in agreement, flicking at the material lazily. “It’s cheap.”

“I usually say art can be created out of nothing,” Leo begins, “but this is embarrassing. At an art festival? ”

They look to Percy suddenly, who pauses at the sudden attention. He’s mid-painting the canvas white (entirely copying Annabeth), when he blinks at them.

 “Hello?”

“What do you think?” Leo prods. “Of the canvas?”

“I wouldn’t know the difference,” he admits. “Maybe it was just expensive to get better ones?”

“You’re too nice,” Piper says, “and there’s no room for nice in art. You’ve got to body them, Percy.” Piper makes a tackling motion.

“I’m alright,” Percy says. 

Annabeth reaches for another paintbrush and Percy puts his hand over hers to stop her.

“What are you doing?” Percy asks.

“I’m trying to paint,” she says, eyeing his hand. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m trying to copy you, so slow down.”

Annabeth laughs, pulling her hand back to herself. “Just do whatever you want.”

 “I don’t want it to be ugly and end up embarrassing myself.”

Annabeth gives him a look. 

“Stop it,” he chastises. “I don’t need your judgement.”

“It won’t suck,” she promises.

“I still don’t know what to paint.”

“Mm. Surprise me.”

 Annabeth spares him no more attention than that, which was entirely unhelpful, so he sighs and looks down at the canvas in front of him. He spends a few minutes shifting through ideas before looking over to Piper and Leo, who have since began painting terrible portraits of the other. It gives him an idea as to his own painting.

Annabeth was kind enough to paint him, so it’s only fitting that he returns the favor, no?

He tries to wait until she looks at her canvas before he starts to look her up and down. Anyone from the outside would be concerned with the way he’s staring at her, but he’s trying to take in every detail of her so he’s able to do her justice.

For the first time that day, he focuses on her outfit. It’s different than it usually is. Her jeans aren’t covered in paint, and she wears a pretty white sweater beneath an expensive-looking coat, which looks deceiving in the sunlight even though it’s nearing negatives outside. It’s adorable and soft, and he finds himself wanting to go back to the day on the fire escape, to the moment captured by her portrait, and hold her in his arms once again.

And her hair… it’s down today, in soft ringlets down her back, caught in the hood of her coat. It blows subtly in the wind, and it catches the sunlight. It’s as though the world is illuminating her, putting her up on a pedestal for the rest of the world to see.

Percy isn’t sure how he could possibly capture something so divine, but he’s determined to try.

 It takes him quite a bit of time, but he manages to finish around when the rest of them seem to be finishing up their own paintings. Percy is rather proud of his painting. By no means is it great, but he did try his best, and it’s better than anything else he’s ever done in his life. 

Percy’s just trying to dab on some more color when Annabeth peeks over his shoulder and rests her chin on him.

“What did you make?”

“Oh, uh.” Percy drops the brush and holds it up to her sight. His finger accidentally wipes against the wet paint. “It’s supposed to be you.”

Annabeth snickers, and Percy gives a subtle pout.

 “Is it that bad? I really tried.”

“It’s great,” she says, but she’s still grinning widely. “I love it.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not,” she promises. “I’m just — you’re adorable, Percy.”

Percy looks away dramatically and sets it down. 

“It does look like she got ran over,” Piper adds, “but you just need practice is all.”

“Thank you so much, Piper. Truly, I appreciate you insulting my art.”

“Shut up,” Annabeth says to Piper. “He has plenty of time to practice.”

 “You can tell me it’s awful,” Percy says. “I won’t cry.”

 “Percy. I love it because you made it.” Annabeth then leans back over his shoulder and presses an unexpected kiss into his cheek. Percy swears he nearly leaps off his seat in excitement, but he manages to stay still and just smile instead. He can feel the way his face turns red. “Thank you.”

He bites his lower lip in a smile and ignores the knowing looks he’s getting from Piper and Leo as Annabeth begins packing up their stuff. 

Piper and Leo tell Annabeth something about heading out, but he’s too distracted internally screaming over the kiss on the cheek, so he pays it no attention. He couldn’t even if he tried; his brain tends to go to mush whenever Annabeth held his hand or brushed against his arm, so it’s to be expected that he’d get so distracted when she kisses him, even if it’s as simple as a quick peck on the cheek.

“So.”

Percy starts at her voice, and his eyes dart to give her full attention. “Sorry?”

 Annabeth laughs, and the sound is sweet to his ears. “Do you have anywhere to be?”

He shakes his head. “I’m all yours today.”

“I’m so glad you think so,” she says, turning her body towards him on the seat. “How would you feel about face painting?”

“Oh, never mind. I actually have to go…vacuum my fire escape.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. Then I have to mop my ceiling.”

“Oh bummer.”

Percy tries to keep a straight face on. “Yeah.”

“Please?” 

“You actually want to do face painting?”

“Yes! Come on, it would be so fun. We could even get them matching.” 

“Oh, well how could I possibly argue against that?”

“You can’t.”

 Percy sighs just for the histrionics, but inside, he’s blossoming with warmth. 

Annabeth is right when she says he can’t argue against that. Especially not when she’s looking at him like she is right now, with those eyes that are wide and begging. Not when her hand is brushing against his arms gently, up and down, and she’s pouting her lower lip like that.

 He never stood a chance against Annabeth Chase.

 “I might give you a kiss if you agree.”

That sends Percy’s mind spiraling again as his heart picks up pace.

 He gives her a look that says really? Annabeth just flashes him a teethy grin, and he thinks there’s no way she doesn’t know the way that he feels about her. She’s Annabeth, so of course he knows. She’s too smart not to know. 

“Fine,” he says, “but it’s not because I want a kiss.”

 Annabeth nods, but there’s a sparkle in her eyes that tells him she doesn’t believe him for a second. “Alright. Then let’s go.”

Percy is willingly dragged through the crowd of people once more, but it doesn’t stop him from whining up until he’s put in that chair. It’s a bit ridiculous, sitting in a chair clearly meant for children when he’s a senior in high school, but her excitement makes it all worth it.  

“I hate you,” Percy says as Annabeth is picking out a design for the both of them. She settles on a couple blue flowers that circles their eyes.

“You love me,” she answers, and yeah, Percy does. He loves her more and more every day.

 It’s embarrassing, the way he’s unable to stay still as the person handing out face paints does his own, but in his defense, it tickles. It also feels alarmingly dirty because he’s pretty sure the same brushes and sponges have been used on everyone else (but if there’s the chance of being rewarded with a kiss, then he can’t really complain). 

Annabeth stops Percy from looking in a mirror once it’s done so that she can get hers done first, and he uses the opportunity to look at her again. Annabeth is so focused on looking forwards for the artist that she doesn’t notice his eyes tracing over her face.

He realizes now that he really does love her. Not just bits and pieces of her he’s fallen in love with, but he’s fallen in love with her. He already knew, and he’s sure she does too, but he’s never stopped to say it. It feels good, relieving, to admit that there’s more to his love for her passion in art. It’s a love that consumes him, and was there on the fire escape, circling them when they pressed their handprints into the wall, a permanent symbol of the two of them together. 

“Percy,” Annabeth calls to get his attention. “What do you think?”

 “I think it looks great,” he says. He lets his hand wander up to her cheek and press lightly against the dried blue paint. It’s pretty, with the black lines that make up the outside of the flowers, and the assortment of blues that just work.

 If blue wasn’t already his favorite color, it sure is now.

Annabeth leans into his palm and locks eyes with him. “Regret matching with me?”

 “With you?” Percy lets his lips turn up into a soft smile. “Never.”

It’s the first week of Spring Break, and Percy finds himself stuck inside of his apartment with Annabeth taking over all his belongings.

He doesn’t particularly mind, except for that he seems to not be able to turn any of her attention over to him. Right now, she’s laying on her stomach in his bed, pencils scattered all over his comforter with some spilling over the crack between the bed and the wall, while she’s drawing something. He refuses to look at the picture out of spite for the lack of attention he’s receiving.

 Percy’s just a little bit of an attention hog sometimes. It’s hardly his fault, though.

 A pencil is in her hand while she chews on the tip, clearly in deep thought. He rather likes her outfit too, which is just a pair of cotton shorts and a light tank top to battle the heat that the city has decided to provide. His window is open in a desperate attempt to cool the room, but all it does is bring in hot bursts of wind that move flyaways in her hair.  

She takes residence in his bed all the time, and it makes Percy oddly content each time she does it. It’s adorable how much she loves being in his room whenever she comes over and stealing all his blankets.

The whole scene would be cute if Percy wasn’t so frustrated.

“Are you going to spend the whole day drawing?” Percy asks from the floor. He doesn’t even have space on his bed.

Annabeth barely spares him a humored glance, pausing gnawing on the tip of the pencil to give him a snarky response. “Jealous?”

“ No. ” Percy crosses his arms and flops back onto the floor. “All I’m saying is it’s the first week of Spring Break and you want to draw? ”

“Oh, your poor baby,” she teases, but she drops the pencil and pushes the sketchbook away. Percy counts that as a win. “What did you propose we do, then?”

“Let’s go on vacation!”

“Great! Where do you plan on pulling that sort of money from?”

“I mean, we could rob a bank. All just some fun excursions!”

“Nothing says vacation like being arrested, right?”

“You have to act out once in your life, Annabeth. What are you going to tell your kids you did in high school? Paint? ”

“What are you going to tell your kids you did? Not read textbooks?”

Percy groans. “You’re still bringing that up?”

“Because it’s ridiculous.”

“Go back to drawing. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

Annabeth just tosses her pencils and books onto the floor by his bed and rolls over, holding out her arms for him to join her. He really doesn’t have much energy to pull himself off the floor, but he does it anyways, and wastes no time in hopping onto the bed.

It’s innocent enough. They’re just lying next to each other, not even touching except for the way Percy’s fingers are tracing up and down her back. The door is open too, after a few mortifying conversations with his mother, as though he’d ever do anything when she was home anyways.

“Did you actually want to do something?” Annabeth asks.

“Hm. I don’t know.”

“You made me stop drawing just to be indecisive?”

“Mhm.”

Annabeth kicks him lightly on the butt. “We could go for a walk?”

 “Psh. No thanks, grandma.”

“We could have a picnic?” 

Percy lifts his head. “That’s actually…a really good idea.” 

“I know it is. I came up with it.” 

“So full of yourself,” he mutters, but he loves it. He sits up properly. “Do you actually want to?”

“Can I finish drawing on the picnic?”

“You are a menace.”

“I’m an artist. I can’t help when inspiration strikes.”

 “You’re lucky I love you,” he says.

 Annabeth pokes him on the nose. “I know.”

 From there, Annabeth leaves Percy to grab all the snacks for a picnic in Central Park while she packs all her precious pens and pencils. Percy watches her precariously set them into a bag she found sitting around while he’s in the kitchen shoving as many capri suns as he possibly can into another bag. It’s more sweets than proper food that he brings, but he doesn’t think Annabeth would really care. Besides, he really just wants to spend time with her more than anything.

 It’s at least thirty minutes later by the time they’re actually leaving. He has to practically drag her out the door before she ends up grabbing a whole canvas along with other things he doubts they’ll need during the short jaunt. He pretends to be annoyed, but it never ceases to make him smile. Of course, he could never tell her that, so he has to hide his smile behind his hand and simply suffer the torment of emotions.

Once they get outside, Annabeth slips a hand into his, something she’s done a lot more recently, and Percy squeezes it automatically in response.

It’s nice outside, albeit hot. It’s a good thing neither of them are in heavy clothes because they’d be melting otherwise. He feels like they’re a couple with they way they’re moving with one another. Anyone from the outside would likely think the same thing, and it makes him jittery with excitement. 

“Is this a date?” Percy asks while he swings their interlocked hands. His voice is playful, but he is genuinely curious as to her thoughts on it with the way she leans into his body as they walk.

“Mm.” He can hear the grin in her voice. “Ask me again later?”

 The walk to the park goes by alarmingly fast with the way they play with one another. Percy pushes Annabeth’s shoulder to send her stumbling every few seconds, which only results in her pushing him back. He adores moments like these, just the two of them, when they just mess around and enjoy the time they have together.

“Is this spot good with you?” Percy asks somewhere in the park. There aren’t many people around in this particular corner, which is surprising, but he doesn’t complain.

“This is fine,” she tells him, setting her own bag down.

She helps him open a blanket and lay it onto the grass before they both sit on it. Annabeth immediately lays next to Percy and rests her head on his lap, which makes Percy’s stomach flutter.

“What are you doing?” he asks softly. His fingers go to run through her hair, gently twisting strands between his fingers. He loves the way the curls feel in his hand and how her golden hair seems to glow in the sunlight.

 “I’m going to take a nap.”

“On top of me?” Percy asks, amused.

“You’re like a big teddy bear,” she says. “Perfect for naptimes.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to let you sleep on our date?”

“You love me?”

“I do,” he says, “but I can’t let you sleep! It ruins the point of a picnic.” Percy pokes her shoulder. “Ma’am. You’re supposed to be keeping me company.”

Annabeth’s eyes are closed but the corner of her lips twitch up. He can see a subtle dimple on her cheek that Percy wants to kiss away. 

“Hey,” he chastises, “wake up.”

She pointedly keeps her eyes closed so he plucks at a few blades of grass and sprinkles them over her face. When she doesn’t react, he does it a few more times until she pops open her eyes. Grey stares up at him accusingly, and god, he loves those eyes so much.

 “Are you going to keep doing that?”

“Until you wake up, yes.” 

She gives him a playful scowl.

 “Let’s do something fun,” he pleads. “We can eat all the snacks you made me bring, or we can play tag like toddlers, or…”

“I don’t feel like doing any of those.”

 Percy tugs playfully on her hair. “Why don’t you teach me to draw, then?”

 That gets Annabeth to perk up. “Really?” 

Percy tilts his head fondly. “Why not? It could be fun.”

“You would let me teach you to draw?” 

“I mean…you can try, but I make no promises for how well I actually do.”

“With me as your teacher, you’re going to do great.”

Percy doubts any teacher could make him good at art, especially after how awful he had been when he attempted to paint a small portrait of Annabeth, but he’s willing to let her have her moment.

Annabeth opens her bag and rips out a piece of paper from the sketchbook for him to use, and Percy falls in love all over again. She holds a genuine excitement as she asks him what pencil he wants to use, and Percy can’t help but think that he’d be alright with being with her like this for the rest of his life.

 She is all smiles as she tries to show him the basics of sketching, even though Percy does not at all understand what he’s meant to be doing. She ends up doing one line and trying to help him do the next, and though he’s not the best at it, he’s just so happy that she is.

“I’m sorry,” Percy says after she tries to get him to do something, which he fails miserably at. “I’m awful at this.”

“You’re alright,” she assures. “Just try again.”

He does try again, and a few times after that, but it’s clear that he wasn’t blessed with an artistic eye in the way that she was. But Annabeth doesn’t let his struggle wipe away her excitement – she just laughs at him when he draws a curved line that is meant to be straight and sets the pencil down.

 “I’m so sorry,” he says, laughing. “I’m really trying here.” 

“I know you are,” she says. “I don’t mind. I’m just glad you wanted to draw with me.”

“If you can call this drawing,” he says, amused. He sets his own paper down and leans onto his arms behind him, looking at Annabeth. She gazes back at him with a soft smile, and Percy nudges her leg with his foot. “Why don’t you draw? I’m happy just watching you.”

 “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I love it when you draw.”

 “I find that hard to believe. You can barely sit still for two seconds.”

“I can when it comes to you.”

Annabeth’s eyes soften, but she picks up her papers again before shuffling closer to Percy. She sits in front of him, almost leaning into his lap, and Percy lets his chin drop onto her shoulder as she begins again. 

She’s slow this time. She takes her time with each line she draws, like she has the rest of her life to live in the moment. He thinks she might be doing it so he can try to understand what’s going on, and it makes him feel genuinely delighted that she wants him to enjoy this time as she is.

 Time seems to speed up and slow down and cease to exist. All he cares about is her and her attentiveness he has always held an admiration for.

 Annabeth pauses for a moment, if only to pull her hair that was falling in front of her face back and into a careless bun, and Percy is transported back to the first week he met her.

She had been drawing then too, leaning over her desk, and Percy was behind her, attempting to stare over her shoulder without disturbing her. He had just wanted to gain insight into her life, to discover who she really was and what held her heart, and now he’s in the same position. Her hair is the same, and everything else is too.

 He supposes things feel different for them, but it’s never really changed. Annabeth has always been the person he now knows her as – he just hadn’t known it at the time. 

 Percy has to glance towards her face, suddenly overwhelmed, and he desperately wants to tell her. He wants to say everything, but he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think there’s a way to express that he fell in love with bits and pieces of her, and it kept happening until there were no more bits and pieces to fall in love with. Now, he fell in love with her, and he knows she knows. 

He moves a piece of hair that’s escaped from the hair tie and lowers his face to the crook of her neck. Annabeth pauses, and a hand comes up to thread through his hair. 

“You okay?” 

“Mh-hm.” Percy takes a deep breath. “I just really love you.”

She gives a quiet chuckle. “I love you too.”

 “I’m really glad you’re in my life.”

 “Me too,” she says. When Percy doesn’t let up, she asks, “What’s up with you?”

“I just—”

“Can you look at me?” 

He does, and she has pure humor in her eyes, like she knows exactly what he’s going to say. 

She’s always been able to do that, too. She knows what he’s thinking before he says it. It falls back to them being more similar than he initially thought. She observes the world around her, just like he does. She wants to learn about people, fall in love with bits of everyone around her. 

She knows what he’s going to say because she knows him like he knows her.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” he asks, just to be difficult.

“You know what.”

 He does. “You’re my best friend.”

“Is that so?”

He should’ve known Annabeth would never make things easy for him. She never has, but it’s what he loves, ever since that first day in history class. 

“You’re being mean,” Percy says.

 “I’m not.” 

“You already know what I’m trying to say.” 

“I do,” she agrees, “but I want to hear you say it.”

“I say it all the time.”

“I want you to say it again.” 

He thinks of holding out, but what’s the point when the reward is so high?

“I love you.” 

Annabeth gives him a sweet smile. “Then kiss me.” 

And he does. 

Percy kisses her softly, and it doesn’t feel like electricity courses through him or fireworks explode in his mind, but he doesn’t care because it feels like he’s kissing his best friend, and that feels a million times better.

Everything about this is perfect. His mind comes alive at the soft brush of her lips against hers, or the way her fingers run through his hair. He breathes her in, savoring this moment after so long, and he never wants it to end.

When she pulls away, he’s out of breath. His lips tingle, and his heart is beating so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if Annabeth were able to hear it. 

She’s so beautiful, and Percy desperately wants to kiss her one more time. So he does. 

 “I love you too,” Annabeth says, an answer to what he had told her before, his I love you.

He pulls her into a hug, hands pressing against the smooth planes of her back. He isn’t sure what’s supposed to be said now, so he just holds her and hopes that he understands.

 “Aren’t you so glad you agreed to the picnic?” Annabeth breathes minutes later against his neck.

 “The picnic I had to drag you along on?”

 He feels her smile against his skin.

 “This was your best idea yet,” he concedes. “Does this mean it was a date?”

“Hm. I’ll allow it.”

Percy tickles her side until she giggles and squirms.

 “ Maybe it was a date. We still have to see how it ends.”

 “How does it end, then?”

Annabeth lifts her head and looks Percy in the eyes. He doesn’t think he’s been this close before; he can see the details of her irises, intricate and beautiful. 

 “You tell me,” she says, almost a whisper.

He thinks he knows what she wants, but he doesn’t want to give in just yet. 

Percy kisses her nose. “I have an idea.”

 “Oh, yeah? What is it?”

“Montauk Beach. I told you forever ago that I wanted to take you, after you finished the mural. You said maybe one day.”

Annabeth nods and laughs. “I did.” 

“How about now?”

He’s already imagining taking her there, showing her a bit of what he loves. She wanted that too, to know about the things he loves in the way he knows about her, and now he thinks he can show her. She’d finally get to see the things he feels when he’s in the place he loves. She’ll be able to see how much it meant to him to have this image she’d never even seen before immortalized on a brick wall, and how much he loved that they made it together. 

“I think that I’d love that,” she says, “But it depends on how this ends.” 

He knows what she wants. He gives in. 

“I would love to take my girlfriend to Montauk Beach, if that’s alright with her.” 

Despite already knowing her answer, he feels nervous. Saying it out loud makes it real, and he wants this to be real. It’s nerve-wracking but exciting, the possibility of a new beginning side by side with the person he wants most. 

“I think your girlfriend would love to.”

And he finds hearing it out loud is so much better.

This girl that he’d met on the first day of senior year, fought with mercilessly, became his best friend. She was a symbol of permanency in his life. She’s been there since the beginning, showed him another side to life he’d never known before. He’s terrible with art but he loves it because of her. 

  Annabeth is beautiful, and he loves her. He’s going to bring her to Montauk, and then he’s going to do it again, because something tells him this is not something for fun. This is forever, and they both know it. 

Annabeth is art, and he loves every piece of her. That’s something that will never change.

Percy and Annabeth are only officially dating for a few days by the time they end up at Montauk Beach. In that short span of time, Percy quickly learns that dating Annabeth is fun.

 It’s stolen goodnight kisses and sleepy good morning texts, and Percy loves it all. He doesn’t have to hide his fond smiles, and he’s able to kiss her just because he feels like it. It’s everything he’s dreamt of, and now that he’s alone with her in the place he loves most, somehow, it’s even better. 

Annabeth walks ahead of him on the beach as she looks around. Percy can practically see her brain whirring as she takes everything in, and it makes him shake his head at her antics.

“What do you think?” Percy asks as he comes up next to her. 

 She looks so in awe that he wants to hold her hand, but he’s carrying quite a bit of essentials for a day in the sun, so he settles for bumping her with his sand-covered feet.

 “I think my mural didn’t do it justice,” she breathes, turning to face him. She has to squint her eyes as the sun shines right into her eyes. Percy muses at the shadows her eyelashes cast under her eyes as he moves to help block the brightness. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You always do your paintings justice.”

“Yeah, but this…”

Percy grins. “Come on, then. If you love it now, then you’re going to want to marry it later on.”

Annabeth waits until he continues walking to follow, and he hears her say, “I don’t think it’s the beach I’ll be wanting to marry.”

 Percy shoots her a grin over his shoulder and makes a kissy face, which she returns. The sentiment makes his cheeks feel hot.

He finds a random spot along the sand for them to set their stuff down before dropping everything. His arms feel sore after holding a few bags for so long, but he quickly forgets about it as Annabeth begins shuffling through one of the bags.

“What do you need?”

“I want to set the cover down,” she tells him. 

Percy unzips a different bag and hands it to her, and as she’s busy trying to get it to unfold and settle it onto the sand, he takes his shirt off. He pretends not to notice the way her eyes seem to scan over his body. He would normally tease her, but he gets the feeling there will be plenty of time for that later on.

As Annabeth is setting the towel cover onto the sand, the window manages to blow it away, which has him laughing in her face. 

 “This isn’t funny,” she says, but she’s laughing herself. “Stop it.”

“Just forget about the towel,” he offers when she kicks sand at him. “We’re going in the water anyways.”

 She wants to protest, he can tell, but when it nearly flies away in the wind again, she gives up and tosses it aside.

Percy holds a hand out. “Ready?”

“To go in the water? Not a chance.” 

Percy’s jaw drops. “What!?”

 “It looks cold.”

“You can’t be serious. We came all this way, and you don’t want to go in the water?”

“I don’t like being cold,” she says, but the way her hands are twisted behind her back and the sparkle in her eyes tells him that she’s messing with him. He decides to play into it anyways.

“I can warm you up,” he says. He comes right up to her and wraps his arms around her waist. She’s still wearing a cute coverup as he does so, which he tugs on lightly. 

“How so?” she muses.

“Like this.” Percy kisses her cheek before trailing to right below her ear. “Or like this.” He moves in a line down her jaw and over her neck. “Or like this.”

Annabeth lets out something between a moan and a sigh.

“Are you warming up yet?”

“Mm. I’m not sure. Maybe you should try some more?”

Percy nudges her nose with his. “You mean like this?” He kisses her properly this time, but it’s hard not to smile into it when she does.

 “That’s better,” she says against him. Her arm makes its way around her neck as he tightens his grip around her waist. “You’ve got me melting in your arms.”

 Percy shrugs, attempting and failing to appear nonchalant. “I just have that effect on people.”

Annabeth tugs at his hair, and he yelps.  

“That’s what you get,” she says, stepping away.

He rubs the back of his head but drops the fussing when she begins to reach for the bottom of her coverup. She’s aware of him watching and gives him a knowing look before pulling it up and over her shoulders, and Percy’s heart nearly stops.

She looks fine. Like, strikingly gorgeous. It’s certainly making him feel some sort of way.

As she tosses the fabric away, she’s left in nothing but her bikini, and Percy can’t help but look her up and down. She’d deadly like this, the curve of her hips, the contrast of the color of the bathing suit against her skin. It’s a royal blue, of course, and she must have known what it would do to him.

And beneath the sun, she looks even better. 

He recalls wondering what she would look like in front of this scene back when she painted the mural. The beach had been gorgeous, created by her own hand, and seeing her in front of the painted sun had been marvelous. He had been sure she would look even better in front of the real thing, and now he gets his proof.

The sun beams down on her, and it’s like she’s the center of the universe. He gravitates towards her as he always has, burning this image into his memory. He never wants to forget, doesn’t know that he could even if he tried.

 Annabeth is majestic, the world, and she’s looking at him.

 “Doing alright there? Or have you got seaweed in that brain of yours?” she taunts.

 “Definitely the seaweed,” he answers, jogging over to her. “You can’t blame me when you look like that. ”

 “Like that? ”

 “Like the hottest girlfriend ever.”

Annabeth grabs his hand and laces their fingers together as he lifts her hand to press a kiss to each of her knuckles.  

“I am, aren’t I?”

“One-hundred percent. It’s nice to date someone so hot. People look at you and I get to be like, oh, yeah, all that? It’s mine. ”

“You’re showing me off?”

“Of course! I have to show everyone that I managed to pull someone way out of my league.”

“Please. You’re gorgeous.”

 Percy laughs brightly. “Should we go be an attractive couple in the water, then?”

“Only if we can race.”

“Better get ready to lose— Annabeth!”

She’s already started running towards the water, leaving Percy to chase after her. He’s taller than her and could catch up if he could, but she’s screaming in glee as she looks over his shoulder, and he wants her to win. 

Annabeth hits the water first, only up to her ankles, but she jumps back at the cold, which gives Percy the few seconds he needs to catch up. He runs right into her, hands moving to her waist, and he moves them deeper into the water. It’s cold, even for him, sending a slight wave of shock down his spine, but Annabeth’s kiss warms him right back to the bone.

“Don’t tell me you’re cold after all that whining about getting in the water,” she tantalizes. 

“Nope. Not cold at all,” he says, very obviously lying.

She drags him further into the ocean, and they keep moving until they’re submerged to just below her shoulders. The waves are a bit calmer where they were, which is a relief because getting to this depth involved a lot of saltwater to the eyes and guffaws in his face, courtesy of his girlfriend.

His girlfriend.  

It brings a smile to his face, just as it always does.

“What are you laughing at, pretty boy?”

“I just–” Percy licks his lips. “I keep saying in my mind that you’re my girlfriend, and…I can’t stop smiling whenever I say that.”

“Get used to it. You’re going to have me around for a long time.”

“Magnificent,” he whispers. “If there’s anyone I’d want to get bullied by, it’s my girlfriend.”

 Annabeth steps on his foot underwater, and he snatches her up into his arms. Her legs wrap around his waist so she can hold herself up in the water as she shoves her face into the crook of his neck, forcing him to support her weight beneath her thighs.

“My little octopus,” he coos.

 “I’m not an octopus,” she says. “I want to be a barnacle.”

 “Oh, you’re into roleplay?”

Annabeth snorts. “Only if you’re a seahorse. That way, I won’t be the one getting pregnant.”

“We’d be one sexy couple if we were a barnacle and seahorse.”

 “For sure.” She straightens her back in his arms. “What do we even do at the beach?”

“Have you never been to a beach before?”

“Not for a while.”

“You swim, princess.” 

“What if I get swept into a riptide or something?” 

“Die, I guess.”

Annabeth gasps and hits his shoulder. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say!”

 “I wouldn’t let you get swept away,” he promises. He lets go of her legs so she drops back to her own feet and he can take her hands. “Be one with the waves.”

 “I am not an ocean person.”

“Be totally tubular, dude. These waves are gnarly.”

“What the fuck?” 

“You’re really harshing my mellow, Annabeth.”

Annabeth laughs when he tugs her closer in an attempt to get her to swim. “I haven’t got a clue what any of that means.”

“It means have fun,” he says. “You understand art, don’t you?”

“The ocean is hardly art.”

 “If there’s anything I’ve learned from you, it’s that art is relative.”

 Annabeth tilts her head, and Percy is entranced by the way water pools in the dip of her clavicle. “Care to elaborate?”

“Art is everywhere. Anything can be art if you let it. It means creation and emotion, and to me, swimming is that.”

“That’s an interesting take.”

“Take you, for example. A human isn’t the typical idea of art, but…that’s what you are. You’re beautiful and talented, and you bring joy to this world that is so often bland. You have virtuosity, and you’re transcendent, and I can’t describe you in any other way than that – a work of art.”

“I’ve never thought of it like that,” she admits. “The ocean, then. It’s art?”

 “It’s a creation of nature. It’s magical and holds things humans can’t even begin to imagine. And it’s gorgeous, the sparkle of the sun on the water, or the thunderstorms it holds. I like to think it’s artistic. Maybe not in the way people would normally consider it to be – I mean, you can’t really alter the ocean or create anything out of it – but I do think it is.”

Annabeth is looking at him in awe, and Percy feels proud. Percy likes to think that he’s learned a few things with Annabeth around, and that includes how to find the beauty in the mundane.

“I think I may be in love with you,” Annabeth says.

“Did I do a good job gushing about art?”

 “I almost thought I was looking in a mirror,” she praises. “Though I’m still not sure how harshing your mellow has anything to do with the ocean being pretty.” 

“I’m not sure either. I just wanted to seduce you with my ocean-art spiel.”

“Consider me seduced.”

Percy pouts his lower lip. “Did I earn a kiss?” 

“Later. I don’t want to be seen snogging an art nerd in public.” 

“Ha! Don’t be silly. You love that I’m becoming an art nerd.” 

“It’s frightening, the power I hold.”

 “If it makes you feel any better, we can kiss underwater.”

 “That’s so disgustingly romantic. Let’s do it.”

“You’d rather kiss me underwater than let anyone else see?” Percy laughs and swats at her arm. “I’m insulted.”

 “You suggested it, genius. I will need to plug my nose, though, or else water will go up it.”

“Or you could just not breathe,” he offers, dodging the splash of water she gives him. He says with a bright smile, “Do you really plug your nose in the water?”

“Yes! It burns if I don’t.”

“You just blow out of your nose, and nothing goes in! It’s like magic.”

“But then I feel like I’ll get snot everywhere. No, thank you. I’ll stick to plugging my nose like a normal person.”

“Normal people do not plug their noses,” he says.

Annabeth shoots him a lighthearted glare.

 “You can plug your nose,” he relents, swimming the few feet over to her. He kisses her on the nose before saying anything more. “Ready for the best underwater kiss of all time?”

“With you? Always.” 

Together, they duck below the water. It’s a bit difficult for him to find her face underwater, but once he manages to find her, he cups her cheeks in his palms and brings her lips to his. It’s a short kiss, only a few seconds long, but it brings back a childlike excitement he hasn’t felt in years. He doesn’t want to rise out of the water, wishing he could stay here forever in his happy place, but he runs out of breath soon enough and is left with no other choice.

The second he comes back above the water, he brushes his hair out of his eyes, and he sees Annabeth doing the same. When he shakes his head to wring out the water, he splashes water right into her face, which has her spluttering and him chuckling in her face. 

“Best underwater kiss of all time?” Percy asks, kissing her forehead in apology.

“Absolutely,” she says. She kisses his lips once. “Except I got water up my nose.” 

“I thought you were going to plug your nose!”

“You told me not to!”

Percy squishes her cheeks so that her lips puff out and he gives her a few more sweet pecks. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

“I think I’m drowning. I may need mouth to mouth from my hot and physically fit boyfriend.”

 “Physically fit? I find that hard to believe.”

 “Have you seen yourself?” Annabeth whistles. “I mean, you could have more defined abs, but I’m not picky.”

“You’re never going to make things easy for me, are you?”

 “Not a chance,” she says. “But don’t you love that about me?”

 “I love every piece of you,” he says. 

 “Though I’m kidding about the abs. You’re very hot as is.”

 “But not hot enough for you to snog me in public?”

 “I’m messing with you. I’m really just trying not to kiss you because if I do, I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop.”

“Hm. Better wait until we’re alone, then,” he says with a wink. “Then you can kiss me all you want.”

 Annabeth chokes on a laugh. “There’s nothing like making out with you without a time limit.”

“Making up for lost time!” 

“What lost time?” 

“All the months we could’ve been dating.” 

“Oh, but that’s what makes us so special! Pretending we weren’t painstakingly in love with each other.” 

“We were a bunch of losers back then,” Percy says, “as though we didn’t just start dating days ago.”

“Right? Happy seventy-two-hour anniversary.”

 Percy grabs her hand and pulls her closer through the water so he can hug her tightly. “I love you.”

 “Oh, it’s way too early into our relationship for this.”

“Shove it,” he says.  

Annabeth kisses his jaw when he looks up pointedly to block access to his lips. “You know I love you too.”

 Percy spins her around in the water a few times as she snuggles closer to him, and he feels her shiver. “Are you cold?”

“A little bit, yes.”

“We can get out, then.”

 “No. You love it here.”

“I love you, and I’m happy if you are.” Percy stands and lets her follow. “Come on. We can sit down for a bit and eat a ton of snacks.” 

Getting out of the water is more difficult than it had been getting in as the waves begin to pick up. He supposes that may be their own fault though considering they were trying to swim to shore instead of walking, but sue him for wanting to at least pretend to know how to surf for a little bit longer. 

He ends up having to help her set the large towel into the sand because it blows away otherwise. He hands her a different towel that she wraps over her shoulders before plopping onto the floor. It’s so adorable that he verbally fusses over her, sitting down next to her and pulling her up so her head rests on his lap instead of on the hard ground.

Annabeth’s eyes begin to flutter closed as he plays with her hair. He considers letting her drift to sleep, but he ends up brushing a finger against her cheek to get her attention. 

“Falling asleep on me already?” 

“I was so excited for today I didn’t even sleep.”

“Annabeth, you psycho.”

 “I wasn’t tired! But I am now. Are you going to be mean and keep me from sleeping like you did at the picnic?”

“This is our second date, and you’ve tried to sleep on me for both of them,” he says, but he’s really endeared. He feels trusted when she does this. He knows how hard it can be to sleep anywhere, but she trusts him enough to fall asleep against him, and that makes him happy.

Annabeth tries to sit up, and he brushes a hand up and down her back soothingly. 

“You can go to sleep if you want,” he says. “I don’t mind.”

 “I’ll sleep later,” she says. “Right now is about you anyways. I can see why you love this place, but I feel like there’s so much left to see. I want you to show me.”

And so he does.

He shows her the beauty in walking along the shore, finding shells and rocks that match each other’s eyes. They run along the sand and build sandcastles, letting their laughter ring in the air. 

 They watch the sun set over the horizon, casting purple and pink and orange across the sky. It’s majestic, cinematic, and Percy can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, they’ll be back one day, in front of this horizon, and they’ll be saying their I do’s.  

Percy shows her what there is to love about the ocean, and she falls in love. 

Annabeth thinks the view is striking, but Percy thinks it’s all her.

As much as Percy loves being out with Annabeth, showing her off to the world, he thinks he may love staying home just as much.  

It’s a lovely moment to take a breath and enjoy the other’s presence when they’re just lying in bed in each other’s arms, talking about nothing in particular. It doesn’t happen very often either with how busy they both are trying to finish up their senior year of high school, so it teaches him to appreciate when they finally can. 

 They’re not really doing anything. Annabeth is laying on his arm by his side, eyes trained on the tv that’s playing a show he doesn’t recognize. The sound has long become nothing more than background noise for him. His arm went numb a while ago, but he doesn’t have the heart to make her get up. He figures he can keep up with it for just a little bit longer, at the very least.  

Percy ducks his head down so he can press his lips to Annabeth’s neck. She squirms a bit but makes no real attempt to get out of his grasp.

 “Hey,” Percy whispers. His nose nudges at the spot behind her ear.  “Can I tell you something?”

 “Hm. No.”

He brushes against the curve of her ear, kissing softly. “Please?”

“What is it?”

 “I love you.”

Annabeth shifts in bed, turning onto her side so she’s facing him, show forgotten. His arm is still resting under her head, so he uses his other free hand to brush her hair behind her ear gently. Annabeth returns the gesture, pushing his black locks out of his eyes and dragging her fingers against the stubble that lines his jaw.

 “What do you want?” she muses, patting his cheek. He can feel the ring on her finger that he’d gotten her a bit ago, and it makes him want to smile.

Percy kisses her properly. “I just want you to know that I love you.” 

“Do you want my attention?”

 “I mean, yeah, that too.” Percy nips playfully at her nose, and she scrunches her face. “Sometimes, you’re just so adorable when you’re lying on top of me that I can’t help but bother you. It’s a reflex.”

“That’s terrible,” she tells him. “If we ever have kids and you think they’re adorable, are you going to bother them?”

 “I would not think our kids are adorable. They will actually be cute, and it’s insulting that you think otherwise.”

 Annabeth rolls her eyes, and Percy laughs at her antics, bopping her on the nose.

 “I promise not to bother our babies,” he says.

 “You sound so sure we’re going to have babies someday.”

 “Of course! We’ll have a bunch of mini artists running around.”

Annabeth smiles softly and caresses his cheek. “I hope so.”

They fall back into a silence, but they’re looking at each other this time. Percy could drown in this moment, in her gaze that he pours every ounce of love, of desire, into. He doesn’t want to think — he wants to live in this moment, no thoughts, just them — but he feels that he’s missing something dangling right in front of his face.

“Let’s talk,” Percy says.

“Talk? What have we been doing then?”

“You know what I mean,” he says. His hand resumes rubbing up and down her back. “Let’s talk about something.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“You." 

“You always want to talk about me,” she teases. “Do you have anything else that interests you?”

“What can I say? I’m devoted.” His fingers brush against where her shirt has ridden up, against the skin of her back. “Any new projects?”

“Is that a real question? I always have a new project.”

“You’re right. That’s my bad.” Percy hums, thinking. “How about school? You find out about if you got into NYU soon, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That doesn’t sound very excited,” he teases. “Don’t you want to know?”

“Of course I do,” she says. “I just…don’t know if I even want to go there anymore.”

Percy blinks and gives a confused smile. “But that’s where you’ve been saying you wanted to go?”

 “Recently,” she confirms, “but there’s this other school that specializes in art. Rhode Island School of Design. I applied back in January.”

Percy feels an uncomfortable drop in his stomach. He feels that he should’ve known that, like she should’ve told him about applying to that school. 

  She hadn’t told him.

  Why wasn’t he aware of that?

 “I didn’t know about that,” Percy says.

“I honestly forgot that I even did it.”

“When do you hear back from them?”

“I already have.”

 And his stomach drops. He can’t explain it, but he just knows something is off.

 “I haven’t opened it yet. It’s been sitting in my emails.”

“Why haven’t you opened it yet?” 

Annabeth gives him a doubtful look. “I think you know why.”

“I think you should open it,” Percy says. 

“Percy.”

“Is it a good school?”

 “ Please. ”

“Is it a good school?” he repeats. He sits up in the bed now, and Annabeth follows. Her legs tuck beneath her as she faces him.

“One of the best,” she answers.

“Then you need to open the letter.”

 “I can’t—” Annabeth’s voice cracks. “Percy. I love you, and I just want to be with you. I really don’t care what the letter says”

“But you need to open the letter,” he says. “We’ll talk about it then, but you have to open it. You can’t just ignore something like that.”

 She looks reluctant but he knows that she knows it too. She keeps her eyes locked on his while she reaches for her phone. He tries not to look as she goes through her emails, instead wondering what just happened. They had been fine just one minute ago, and now she hasn’t said it, but they both know this could very well mean they would be far from each other for at least the next four years, if not longer. It’s a foreign feeling that blossoms inside of him because nothing has happened, neither of them are at fault, but it feels wrong.

 Annabeth finds the email and opens it. Percy doesn’t need to look to know what it says.

“I don’t know where I’m going,” she says.

 “Annabeth.”

“Were you hoping I didn’t get in?” 

“Of course not, Annabeth.” Percy gives her a soft look. “I’d never wish that for you.”

“It’s in Rhode Island.”

“It’s not like it’s across the country.”

 “It’s further than I want to be from you.” 

Percy gazes at her, and her eyes look back. He doesn’t say anything for a bit because they both know what she has to do. Percy loves her and wants her close, but she comes first. Before she met him, she was Annabeth Chase, someone devoted to her art. He’s not willing to let her give that away for him. It would be a sin if he did.

 “This is a good thing, princess.”

 “It’s not in New York.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Percy says. “If that’s where you want to go, then do it.”

“It’s where I wanted to go when I was a kid. But I’m not seven anymore, and I have you, and—”

“And you’ll have me regardless of where you choose to go. Is that where you want to go?”

“I don’t know.”

Even Percy knows the truth to her answer. She wouldn’t have kept it quiet if she wasn’t terrified of the decision, and that tells him everything he needs to know. 

“Yes, it is,” he says. “You’re going to do great things, Annabeth, and you deserve the best.”

“I don’t need the best if I have you.”

“Don’t make a decision because of me,” he says. His hand goes to her knee, thumb brushing against the skin calmly. “I’m not going to disappear. You do what’s best for you.”

“And if you’re what’s best for me?”

Percy holds his breath. “Then you choose the next best thing.”

“I just don’t know what I want to do.”

“You do know what you want to do. I mean – this is the school you’re wanted to go to since you were little. This is your dream, and I’m not going to let you throw that away.”

“You’re seriously telling me you want me to leave for college?”

“Do you remember what I told you? That day on the fire escape?”

Annabeth looks away, and he can see the tears in her eyes. 

“I told you you’d be in the textbooks, right up there next to Van Gogh and Da Vinci. You have a talent not many do. This is your life. It’s who you are, who you were meant to be, and I don’t think you’d ever forgive yourself if you let it get away.”

“I can be an artist in New York,” she says weakly.

 “But you can be a better artist in Rhode Island. You’ve worked so hard. I’ve seen the stuff you’ve done, and you can’t give it all away.”

 “It feels like you want me to go.”

It breaks Percy’s heart. 

It’s the last thing he wants, for her to go, but he couldn’t face being the reason she gave up on something so divine and powerful.

He’s thrown to the past in this instant, remembering the day he first met her. He was in awe at the things she created on paper right in front of his eyes. She painted a mural as beautiful as the scene itself from nothing but his own words. Annabeth brings things to life. She embodies the art of observation, is art herself, and she deserves the world.

 “I don’t want to be apart from you,” he says, “but I want you to go.”

“You’re my best friend. ”

“Which is why I’m telling you this.” He grabs her hand and squeezes it between his own. She’s shaking, looking everywhere but at him. “But I don’t need to tell you any of this. You’ve got a beautiful brain, and you know it would be insane to pass up on this opportunity.”

Annabeth bites her bottom lip. It leaves an indent in her skin.

 “Can you look at me?” 

She does, and he watches a single tear fall from her eyes. Her eyes are glassy, reminiscent of the way Percy’s heart feels, trembling in his chest.

“I promise you that you will be alright. Four years is nothing when we’re meant to spend a lifetime together. One day, we’ll have a beautiful wedding, celestial like you’ve always wanted, and we’ll have a bunch of mini artists running around, and we will be alright. Going to a different school than you planned isn’t going to change any of that.”

“What if it does?”

Percy remembers a few weeks back when they went to Montauk. She had been the definition of perfection, looking over her shoulder while she raced to the water. The sun reflected in her hair, a sparkling gold, illuminating his world. It’s a portrait of Annabeth forever engraved in his mind, and it’s enough to make him know that it’s not just a promise that’s tying him to Annabeth. 

 It’s fate, the inevitable, so he says, “It won’t.”

 He doesn’t know either of them are moving until he’s kissing her hard. It takes his breath away, and he can’t think of anything except this – the pressure against him as she climbs over his lap, the feel of her neck under his lips, the press of his hands against her back, her stomach, her thighs, everywhere he can reach.

 It seems a lot like a promise.

He feels a familiar burn now, a fiery pit that battles the sun, as he kisses her breath away. He bites her lower lip, and she gasps into his mouth, tugging at the bottom of his shirt, a silent plea. He separates from her only to pull his shirt off, hers following soon after, before he’s back against her, his lips reaching anywhere he possibly can. Time slows as he leans her back, lets her fall under him, hovers over her, relishing in the gasps she gives as he kisses down her body, trying to carve the sounds she makes, the way her fingers thread and pull at his hair in pleasure, into his brain.

Percy’s mind is blank as he moves against her. His face is buried in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, feeling her beneath his fingertips and the jolts that dance up his spine. It’s rushed, pleading, desperate, and it symbolizes the love they hold that no distance can conquer.

It’s a celebration where none of them speak the implied consequences out loud, because if they do, he will shatter.

 And so this moment blurs their thoughts and the world, minus the two of them. All that exists is the warmth of her body, her heavy breaths and pants from beneath the sheets, the bruises he leaves in her skin as he holds her against him, trembling, miserable, proud—

They reach completion, together as one, as they have been and will always be, and fall back against the bed. 

 Neither of them speak to break the precarious silence, to acknowledge the torment of emotions flooding through their veins.

 Annabeth finds her way back into his arms in the position that began it all. Her head rests on his arm as she lays on her side, facing him. He isn’t sure if his arm goes numb this time—his entire body feels numb. His hand presses to her back, rubs up and down, in soothing circles to calm the heartbeat he feels against his chest.

 He knows it’s not the end, because with them, it never will be. He’s determined as she is, and he’s fallen in love. He won’t let them end, but all he feels is pain because before he fell in love with her, he fell in love with the normalcy they held, and he’s not sure if that normalcy can be maintained if she’s not able to be a constant in his life.

 “I don’t have to go,” Annabeth whispers, the first words that shatter the quiet.

 And that brings him back because he knows it doesn’t matter if she’s not in his daily life. Four years versus a lifetime: he chooses the lifetime with her.

 “Annabeth,” he begins, shifting slightly so he can face her. He doesn’t stop the motion on her back. “When we first met, do you want to know what I thought?”

 “You thought I was rude,” she says, a weak giggle. 

 “Before that.”

 Her voice is soft when she speaks. “I didn’t know you thought anything of me before that.”

 “I thought you were interesting. I used to love watching you from afar, just discovering bits of your personality and who you were. Before we even spoke, I knew you were an amazing artist. Now, I’ve seen the things you do. I was by your side this year, cheering you on, and I knew you would be something powerful. There’s so much you want to do.”

 “But is it worth doing if you’re not by my side?”

 “I’ll always be by your side,” he says. “It’s not as far as it feels. We’ll see each other on breaks, and four years…it’s really not that long when you consider that we’re it for each other. I’m in it with you for life.” 

Annabeth’s lip turns up. “Yeah?”

“You deserve so much. You deserve to be at the best university for you, surrounded by the people that will help you be the best you possibly can. That place just isn’t here in New York.”

 “I wish it was.”

“But it’s not, and there’s nothing that we can do about that.”

“Are you upset?”

“I’m proud. You’ve never ceased to amaze me. Not once have I thought that you didn’t do the best. Each time you make something, I think it’s the best you’ve done, and then the next time, you prove me wrong.”

“I’m all about making your life difficult,” she manages. “I just don’t know how to do that when I’m not by your side.”

“You’re brilliant,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“I think you’re better with art than you think you are,” she says. “Your words, everything you stand for…that’s something that can’t be taught. You bear a gift, Percy.”

“And so do you,” he says.

 “I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispers. Her fingers trace over his face, and he kisses it when she touches at his lips. 

 “I’m going to miss you too.”

“We don’t have much longer then,” Annabeth says.

 It’s true. By the fall, he’ll be here in New York, and she won’t be. It’s so far away, yet it’s close, looming over them, casting a shadow on their thoughts.

 “I guess we’ll have to make the most of our time, then.” 

“And if we can’t do everything we want to in these few months?”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to pick up where we left off,” he says, “because we’ll see each other again, and we’ll graduate, and I’ll be right here with open arms.”

“You do have nice arms,” Annabeth says. “I’ll be looking forward to that day.”

 “Can you promise me that you’ll remember something?”

“Anything.” 

Percy thinks Annabeth is a dreamer. She always has been, having dreamt of changing the world, bringing joy through her work. She’s so much more like him than he would’ve thought. Annabeth is loyal, willing to carry the weight of the world for the person she loves. Because he loves her, he knows he can’t let her do that. She has goals in life that she’s going to reach. There’s so much she wants to do, that he knows she can do, and he’s going to make sure she does it all.

They’re going to be okay.

“You’ve got stars in your eyes, Annabeth. You deserve to paint the sky.”

 Time flows faster than Percy knows how to handle.

They make the most of the time they know they have left. It’s bittersweet because it’s some of the best memories they have, but he knows they don’t have as long as they wish to make just a few more.

He’s standing next to her when she accepts her place at the school of her dreams, holding her hand. She looks up at him with a smile, and he knows it’s the right decision as he squeezes her hand three times, a silent I love you. 

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asks, in his arms when he hugs her.

And though Percy feels a stab of sadness, it’s covered by the overwhelming pride he feels because she’s going to change the world.

“I’m alright,” he says, tightening his grip around her waist. She lifts onto her toes so she can press her face into the crook of his neck, and he feels the wide smile she gives. “You have no idea how excited I am for you.”

“I’ll be surrounded by the best,” Annabeth says.

“You are the best,” he says. “That’s never going to change.”

Before he knows it, that moment passes and they’re standing along Montauk Beach after their senior prom. Again, he’s wondering where time has gone.

It’s different than the last time they were here. The moon is left shining above them as they walk hand in hand on the soft sand. Annabeth is still in her dress, and he wishes it were brighter so he could see it again. She looks gorgeous in blue, her hair blowing in the ocean breeze, and he finds he wants to kiss her.

Percy stops walking so he can step in front of her and face her. The moonlight reflects off of the waves that break offshore, and it lets him see the shadows of her face. 

“Did you have fun?” she asks.

“With you? How could I not? You’re the life of the party.”

“You certainly had the best date,” she jokes. Annabeth tugs on his tie. “Though my date was pretty hot himself.”

Percy lets himself be tugged closer to her and he leans down to capture her in a kiss. She holds him there for a few seconds, not that he minds, and his arm goes to wrap around her waist. It’s the perfect ending to the night, just the two of them.

 “I’m going to miss this,” he whispers against her lips. “I love you so much.”

“Wasn’t it you that said we’d never truly be apart?” she teases, giving him a last kiss. “But let’s not think about that tonight. Right now, we have each other, and that’s what matters.” 

Percy wishes he could see her eyes. He wants to remember the pattern of her irises that he saw the day they began dating. He loves those eyes.

“What’s going on?” Annabeth asks.

“I’m trying to remember everything about this,” he answers honestly. His hands rest on her waist. “I never want to forget today. You looked beautiful, and I wish I could remember every detail about today for the rest of my life.”

“Do you want to know the good news?”

“Hmm? And what is that?”

“You have me for the rest of your life,” she says. He can feel her breath against his lips when he speaks, and he closes his eyes with a smile on his face. “You don’t need to remember everything about this night because you’ll have me to look at whenever you want.” 

Annabeth kisses below his jaw, and he swallows hard. 

“I’m not nervous at all,” Annabeth says. “I was before, but now…something tells me we’re alright.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m just really going to miss you anyways.”

“Don’t worry about that tonight. Tonight is about illegal drinking and dancing.”

“You want to dance without music?” Percy muses.

 “It would be fun.” And so she holds out a hand, and he takes it.

It’s relieving, dancing by the ocean at night. It’s not serious as they end up spinning each other around in circles, their laughs ringing out into the night. It’s silly and ridiculous, but it’s so them.   

At some point, they accidentally stumble into the water, and Annabeth exclaims as the edge of her dress is drenched in water. She’s smiling though, especially when Percy whines at the water that moves directly through his shoes.

“This is your fault,” Percy says, laughing. “You wanted us to dance like lunatics.”

“Oh, but wasn’t it so much fun?” Annabeth lifts the front of her dress so her legs are exposed, and she kicks water at him. 

“Stop it,” he chastises, kicking more water at her. 

“Stop this?” She does it again.

“You’re going to regret that,” he says, but he can’t stop the laughter from bubbling up his throat.

 “What are you going to do about it?”

 “I’m not sure you should be standing around waiting to find out.”

 Annabeth takes that as her cue to turn around and start running through the water. Her feet splash as she runs, which ends up all over Percy’s suit as he follows after her. He gives her a few seconds head start before moving, and her gleeful giggles are music to his ears.

 Percy catches up to her and wraps his arms around her waist again to swing her around in his arms.

 “You’re in so much trouble,” he whispers into her ear, followed by a soft kiss.

 Annabeth turns her head to the side and Percy kisses her temple. “What are you going to do about it?”

He looks down on her, smiles, and she twists in his grasp. Her arms find their way around his neck while his arms move down to her hips, and she takes his breath away.

It’s sublime, kissing her like this under the moonlight. He can feel the waves hitting his ankles, the wind passing through them, and he thinks their love is cosmic. Her giggles into his mouth makes his lips turn up, and then she’s escaping his grasp and continuing down the coast, taunting him over her shoulder. 

 Her laughs fade as does time, and he suddenly finds himself standing before her at graduation. The scene plays in slow motion as they stand in the sun, surrounded by their friends and family. He knows it’s ending soon, and she’s leaving, but he doesn’t even think of it.

Right now, all he thinks of is how much this reminds him of his favorite memories with her. Their fire escape sprees and beach voyages, their kiss under the moonlight. Every moment passes through as though time has ceased to exist.

When she pulls off the cap and throws it into the air, all Percy sees is the beautiful smile he fell in love with. The way the sun reflects in her hair, and the way she looks back at him, perfect and talented and wonderful and his. 

 Annabeth taught Percy to appreciate the beauty in life.

She’s stunning, a work of art, and he’s in it with her for life. He’s going to build a future with her, build a life worth living. He’s so sure about this and about her, about the things she’s going to accomplish. She deserves the world, and he’s going to give it to her.

 There’s so much to life that he hasn’t seen before. He sees the beauty in things that surround him that he knows wouldn’t have been possible if he hadn’t met her. He wouldn’t have pictured the ocean to be art, or his words to be picturesque. Without her, he is not the person he is today. 

The truth is that while Percy thinks he’s going to build a life with her, he already had been all along. He didn’t realize it, not at first. It takes a while, years, but it’s always been there, simmering beneath the surface of his consciousness.  

It happens in the blink of an eye. Time moves fast, slow, everflowing and irreversible. Everything ends exactly as it’s supposed to. 

He’s known that the puzzle pieces would fall in place all along, but it doesn’t click into place that it already has until years later when he wakes up and is alone in bed. 

It feels wrong, the other side of his bed being empty. He wants to go back to sleep, but he knows it won’t be possible now that he’s already awake.  

Percy doesn’t move for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling. The comforter on the other side almost looks as though it had been untouched, and that’s what compels him to get out of bed. The room is dark and cold as he stands, and he only waits a few more seconds before he walks out of the bedroom.

He doesn’t think about where he’s going. He lets his feet lead him down the corridor of his apartment, sure to take gentle steps so that the floorboards don’t creak. 

The light is on in a room down the hall, and he can’t help the smile that takes over his face. As he leans against the doorframe and takes in the scene in front of him, he realizes how much has changed.

“You’re supposed to be asleep.”

Annabeth jumps at his sudden appearance, and Percy doesn’t miss the way she has to turn her whole body to look at him with a cheeky smile.

 “I was too excited,” Annabeth says. “Besides, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Mh-hm.” Percy leans off the doorframe and takes a few steps behind her. 

It’s a heartwarming scene in front of him, he thinks. The wall has a few more intricate designs than he recalls there being when he went to sleep. There are some animals too, giraffes and elephants, as well as a few detailed flowers. And Annabeth—

Annabeth is wearing a pair of her paint-covered overalls that she wore back in high school, her hair falling in soft curls down her back. There are quite a few more splatters of paint on her clothes, especially since she used them throughout all of college, but it reminds him so much of when they first met. She wields a paintbrush too, of course. What he focuses most on, though, is how adorable it is that the straps of her overalls had to be loosened to fit her rounded stomach. 

Percy coos at his wife. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” she mutters, setting a paintbrush down onto a small plastic tarp she must have laid out. She struggles to get up from the floor, but Percy knows her well enough to leave her be until she asks for help, holding a hand out to him.

He helps her up, smothering a grin into the top of her head as she presses against him in a hug and he can feel her swollen stomach. 

“Do you like it?” Annabeth asks, twisting around to view the freshly painted wall.

 “I think it’s a bit late to be painting,” he says, “but it’s pretty.”

Annabeth nods slowly. She’s deep in thought, and she entirely misses when he asks her a question.

“What?”

Percy chuckles and presses a kiss to her temple. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about where we should put the crib,” she says, pointing to the wall. “I think it would look nice there. What do you think?”

“I think you’re the best at this type of thing. I’m happy with whatever you like.”

She turns around again and lifts onto her toes to pout for a kiss. He obliges, making sure to let his hands rest on her waist and support her. 

 “Come on,” he says against her lips. “It’s late. You should be asleep.”

“In a minute,” she pleads. 

 Percy doesn’t argue against her. Instead, he lets a hand move towards her stomach where he waits until he feels a familiar kick that makes his heart burst. Annabeth’s head rests against his chest as he holds her.

He can’t believe that they’ve made it this far. They’re building a family now, and so much is different. They made it through college, got married like they’d always planned, and— 

  It’s perfect.

 Percy and Annabeth are an art like no other. Their love is strong, immortal, and everything falls into place. This was how it was always going to end, he knows.

Among fire escapes and beaches, murals and sunny days, they fell in love. It’s bits and pieces that come together to form what they are now. It’s art in itself that let them draw their own future. It’s the art of observation that made him intrigued on that very first day, that worked them closer, turning them from strangers to best friends to soulmates, and it’s wonderful.  

“Are you happy?” Percy asks, a mere whisper in her ear as he stares at the future they’ve created. “With where we are now? With us?”

“Us? We’re painting the sky.”