Work Text:
“Did you know Taylor Swift was re-recording her albums?”
Annabeth pauses, poised over a diagram, holding her ruler still. “Yes, Seaweed Brain.”
“Red is next, isn’t it?” Percy comes to sit next down next to her on the couch, and Annabeth nods. The couch in Annabeth and Piper’s campus apartment is a little lumpy but works perfectly for Annabeth when she’s reviewing architectural prints. “That album is so sad.”
Annabeth chuckles and grabs a protractor. “Piper said I should get someone to fake-date before the release, and then have them break up with me right before it comes out so I could get the full experience. Which was a very funny joke.”
Percy laughs. “God, imagine being heartbroken for Red. I think I would die.”
“Red was my favorite album when I was younger,” Annabeth says, and the conversation pauses. Percy brought his laptop so he could finish an exam, and he takes it out. He likes sitting next to Annabeth while they work together, listening to music and stopping to chat every once in a while. They’ve done it like this ever since they met in elementary school, and their work time together became a regularity in high school. Nowhere feels quite as right as each others’ sides.
Percy stops typing for a moment. “You know what, maybe Piper’s onto something.”
“What are you talking about?” Annabeth doesn’t bother to look up.
“You know…with the fake dating thing.”
Annabeth scoffs and laughs. “And who would you be doing this fake dating with?”
“Well…” Percy runs a hand across the back of his neck uneasily. ”Why not you?”
Alarm bells sound loudly in Annabeth’s head. “Your head really is full of kelp, isn’t it?”
“Just think about it.” Percy turns to look at her, and the excitement in his eyes is a little jarring.
Is he really thinking about this?
“I mean, there’s not much time left until the album comes out, and it’d be fun to be heartbroken for the release, even if it’s just a little. Just think about getting to cry to “All Too Well”—the ten minute version—and having it actually mean something!”
“But,” Annabeth says, her heart starting to pick up with an unsettling mix of anxiety and excitement, “it’s just for fun, right? We could just…” she falters, realizing how ridiculous she sounds, “fake-date for a bit? And then break up when it comes out.”
“Yeah! Plus, classes are ramping up a bit, so maybe this can help take my mind off it a bit.” He pokes her in the stomach playfully. “We can even have a study date, girlfriend.”
Annabeth wishes she didn’t like the way it made her feel when he calls her his girlfriend. This is not a good idea.
“Say I actually agree to this,” Annabeth starts, because she’s not the best at stopping something she wants to do, even if it’s a bad idea, “what would we even do?”
“I don’t know.” Percy says. “Couple-y things. Something that’s fake but then breaks our hearts for real when we inevitably split. The tabloids will be all over it.”
Annabeth laughs. “Yeah. The campus newspaper’s cover? All about us.” She pauses. “So we’ll be each other’s Jake Gyllenhaals?”
“If you want to put it that way,” he says, grinning.
Some voice in her head says that there’s no way Percy could ever treat her the way Jake treated Taylor, but she ignores it.
An alarm sounds from Annabeth’s phone telling her that she has a class in fifteen minutes. “I have a lecture but, um, I’ll call you about this later? Can we set something up?” She hopes her voice doesn’t show how uneasy she feels.
As Annabeth packs up her things, she averts her eyes from Percy. “Of course, yeah, sure,” he says. “We have to make it convincing.”
She walks out the door laughing.
—
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Annabeth?”
Annabeth rolls her eyes. “It’s an…idea. And Percy seems to be really excited about it, so… If it’ll make him happy.”
“You two do realize that none of this makes any sense, right? There is literally no real reason for you to fake-date.”
“He’s excited to be heartbroken, I guess.”
“Why would he be heartbroken if he doesn’t really love you?”
“Well,” Annabeth says, shutting her textbook, “I can be heartbroken then. I’m not sure why he wants to do it in the first place, but he’s the one who brought it up.”
“You’ve never been able to say no to him, have you?” Piper asks, raising her eyebrows.
“I can!” Annabeth defends herself.
“Nah, you’re full of it.” Piper sits next to Annabeth on the couch and pulls out a bag of chips, taking a loud bite. “You think you can say no to him, but when it comes down to it he’ll win every time.”
Annabeth looks over to Piper with big, pleading eyes. “But, Pipes, would it really be so bad to just let me have this?”
Piper sighs, crossing her arms. “You’ll definitely be heartbroken, at least.”
“Well, isn’t that the entire point?” Annabeth asks.
“I’m still not sure, Annabeth. You don’t know what it feels like.”
“But I can at least date him for a bit and pretend that it’s real,” Annabeth counters. “That he feels the same way. I know he doesn’t, but he’s at least willing to do this, isn’t he?”
“True…” Piper crushes a chip in her hand, though she doesn’t sound like she’s totally convinced. “When you’re a crumpled up piece of paper laying there, don’t hesitate to call me.”
—
A few days later, right before Halloween, they meet at the coffee shop where Grover works, Cafe Demeter. It’s a small cafe with shrubbery and greens all around—it lives up to its name.
When they tell Grover what their plan is, he says he thinks it’s a bad idea. Percy shrugs him off, immediately asking for date ideas, which puts Annabeth’s heart in her throat. Percy hadn’t had a girlfriend in three years, since he’d broken up with his high school girlfriend, Rachel.
They went out to the movies the next night—some rom-com that Leo had suggested to them—and Percy had put his arm around Annabeth, smirking. Annabeth hid her face away from Percy, her blushing cheeks obscured by the dark light of the theater.
And though that date had been a success, they hadn’t come up with any more concrete plans since then. So, when Percy barges into Annabeth’s apartment with a mischievous glint in his eyes, Annabeth isn’t particularly surprised, especially since he’s Percy.
“Annabeth!”
“Hmm?” Annabeth looks up from her homework.
“I’ve had an epiphany.” Percy flings his arms out wide, looking up to the ceiling loftily.
“Oh really? I’m surprised.” The sarcasm is obvious in Annabeth’s tone.
“Okay, first, shut up. Second, I have come up with the greatest fake-date idea in the world.”
“And what would this idea be?” Annabeth asks, absentmindedly flipping the page in her textbook.
“We should carve pumpkins!”
Annabeth looks up at him, pleased at this prospect. “You know what, Seaweed Brain, for once, you’ve had a good idea.”
“I have great ideas all the time.”
Annabeth laughs and rolls her eyes, trying to think. “Hm…” she hums, “where would we put them, though?”
“Grover said we could put them outside the cafe. They need Halloween decor anyways, and Grover’s too busy with exams to care about decorations…” Percy says, trailing off.
“That’s actually a good idea.” Annabeth agrees, imagining Cafe Demeter with some cute plant-themed halloween pumpkins. “And it’s not like I’m doing anything else remotely festive, with all this cramming I have to do.”
“Me either,” Percy frowns, eyeing Annabeth’s paper like it’s a particularly scary monster.
Annabeth’s absolutely giddy.
—
They decide to take Annabeth’s car to the pumpkin patch. The October chill aches around her shoulders, but Percy’s grin fills her with some much needed warmth when she looks at him across the top of the car. She sighs, tugging her sweater more tightly around her.
She gets in the passenger seat and shivers at the cold in the car; the leather seats freezing on her skin. Percy reaches over to turn the heat on, and she rubs her hands together while she waits for it to warm up.. He exhales, smiling when it fogs up in the frigid air, and starts the car. The rumble of the old car’s engine beneath her feet is oddly grounding.
As Percy sings (a little off key-ly) to Red, Annabeth's reminded why she likes him so much. The two of them are just so… right. His joy next to her cynicism; his unfailing ability to do the right thing.
He’s never anywhere but her side when she needs him. Annabeth might know that he doesn’t like her the same way she likes him, but they’ve been best friends their whole lives. Even if Annabeth ends up heartbroken and desolate from this unorthodox experiment of theirs, she knows, deep down somewhere, that Percy would never really leave. Not truly. Piper’s words drift back to her: why don’t you just tell him?
And the truth is, Annabeth doesn’t know. It feels like keeping her feelings from Percy has become so ingrained into her side of the relationship—and even her daily life, that she doesn’t know anything else. She’s so accustomed to having to mince her words, watching what she says; that she can’t even imagine what it would be like to tell him the full truth. To lay everything out there.
Percy looks over at her from his side of the car, singing along to “Sad Beautiful Tragic,” one of Annabeth’s favorites from the album. Her breath catches when the bridge starts.
Distance, timing, break down, fighting
Silence, a train runs off its tracks
The fields around them seem to stretch forever. The dreary October sun is setting in the sky, and it casts a pure yellow halo around Percy’s head. His lips curve around each word and note, and Annabeth is gone. She’s been gone for a long time, honestly. She absently taps her foot to the beat of the song—it’s too slow, there’s no drive to it, but tapping her foot is giving her a sense of rhythm all the same.
Kiss me, try to fix it, could you just try to listen?
Hang up, give up, and for the life of us we can’t get back
Percy laughs brightly as the bridge ends and the song comes to an instrumental portion; the tone of his laugh ringing out clearly against the melancholy notes of the song.
This, Annabeth thinks, is why they’ve always worked so well together. Just this ability to be in solitude together, not necessarily speaking but just existing, content to just be in the same space as each other despite all of their differences. Why Percy has always stayed by her side, Annabeth doesn’t know. It just feels like that’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it always should be.
When they arrive at the pumpkin patch, there are what seem to be hundreds of pumpkins spread around a large, hazy field. Percy beelines for the back, where the largest ones are, grinning. He tries to lift a particularly large pumpkin and cries out in surprise when he nearly tumbles to the ground, trying to haul it up by its stem. He sinks to the ground in the middle of the pumpkin patch, dirt staining the knees of his jeans, struggling with the pumpkin. “Annabeth!” he yells, calling her over. Annabeth laughs as she looks over at his sorry state.
“What did you do this time?”
“I don’t like your tone.” Percy fake-pouts.
“What happened?”
“Can you help me get this pumpkin? I think it weighs more than your car.”
Annabeth grins, walking over and grabbing one side of the pumpkin.
“Grab the other side,” she directs Percy. He puts his hands on the other side, his fingertips nearly touching the insides of her wrists, and she shifts her hands slightly downwards to get out of the way. She laughs and counts down, “Three, two, one—”
The pumpkin doesn’t even make it off the ground. Annabeth grunts trying to hoist it up, face scrunching. Her arms give out and she collapses backward, breathless. The setting sun catches her eyes, blinding her. She hears Percy struggle once, twice, before falling as well, over towards her side. The next thing she feels is something falling on top of her and the next thing she hears is herself groaning under its weight.
When she blinks, her vision clears, and Annabeth sees Percy on top of her, his wrists on either side of her head, his knees bracketing her hips. Her breath catches and she looks up hesitantly, locking eyes with Percy.
The blue-green of his eyes is intense, but Annabeth can’t help but hold his gaze. He smiles back down at her, and studiously looks into her eyes. Annabeth suddenly realizes the potentially compromising position they’ve somehow managed to land themselves in, and her breath catches.
She hits Percy’s arm lightly, and says, “Get off of me, Seaweed Brain!” Percy rolls off of her and lays down next to her, the wind nearly knocked out of him from his awkward fall.
Percy sighs and threads his fingers together on top of his chest. “It’s pretty cold for the end of October, actually.”
“Are you seriously that bored of me that you’re making small talk about the weather? I thought I was your super interesting fake girlfriend for the next week.”
“For the record, I think weather is a genuinely interesting topic.”
“I see what you mean,” Annabeth lies.
Percy reaches over and holds one of Annabeth’s hands in his own. “This reminds me of high school.”
Annabeth hums thoughtfully. “In what way?”
“I don’t know. Being with you, I guess.” Annabeth reaches up to run her other hand through her long hair. She picks a fallen leaf out of it and holds it up to the light.
“Well,” Annabeth says, sitting up. “This isn’t high school, is it? Let’s get this pumpkin.”
She helps Percy up and tries to ignore the feeling of his fingers slipping through hers.
—
The next week or so is…honestly, not that different from normal. Annabeth didn’t realize how much she and Percy acted like a couple before they started this fake-dating situation, but it has become abundantly clear to her.
When they study together now, they sit closer on the couch, and Percy drops his head to her shoulder. When they go out for lunch, they grab bites off of each other's plates. They hold hands when walking down the street. Again, Annabeth asks herself: Who is this for?
Annabeth never has too long to deliberate on the answer though, her attention constantly pulled elsewhere. Or rather, she doesn’t want to deliberate over the answer. She wants this strange relationship to stretch forever, wants them to keep living in this blissful ignorance. Maybe she could pretend that their relationship was real forever if he’d let her.
But it hurts. It’s hurt for so long, passively, but now it burns and aches throughout her whole body, like a fire that’s gone from smoldering to a bright flame. The knowledge that it’s all fake haunts her every time something good happens, and her own feelings destroy any happiness this fake relationship brings bit by bit.
This is falling in love in the cruelest way
And everything comes to a halt on November 9, three days before the rerelease of Red.
Leo had passed through his, Jason, and Percy’s apartment on his way off to class, and said (probably half as a joke), “If you two are dating,” upon seeing Percy and Annabeth on the couch, “why don’t you kiss?”
Annabeth had stood up to fiddle with the thermostat (because her hands seem to run forever hot around Percy) but now stops in her tracks.
Percy laughs and holds out a shaky hand, but she knows deep down that he’s just as uneasy as she is. “What do you say?”
Annabeth feels like she’s choking. She can’t find air in her lungs. The realization is so sudden and forceful that she’s being launched forward, out of her own body, and she coughs deeply. Her throat is so dry, she thinks, and all she wants is a glass of water.
Her entire body is pounding. She can feel the ache from the tops of her ears to the tips of her fingers and oh, oh, this hurts. It hurts so terribly, so breathtakingly, that she can’t breathe for a moment. Annabeth has to end this.
She has to end this now.
God, how could she have been so stupid? She thought she could live with it. She told herself over and over again, in the depths of the night when she thought no one but her soul could hear her worries, that she could keep up this façade of not loving him.
And at this moment, she envies Percy.
Annabeth envies the ease that he has; the ability he has to not care, to go through with this stupid fucking experiment and not let it get the best of him. She’s furious at him. Why does she have to feel this way? Why does he get to be off the hook? He can leave with his heartbreak and bounce back, but something’s broken inside of Annabeth—and she thinks it might stay that way forever.
Distantly, song lyrics come back to her.
We fall in love ‘til it hurts, or bleeds, or fades in time
And Annabeth almost laughs, she feels it bubble up inside her throat because how can she have space in her mind for Taylor Swift lyrics right now? She fell in love and now it hurts, and she hates that she really can relate to the lyrics now. How stupid was it of her to go and get in this mess in the first place? All of this just for a fucking album? She should have listened to Piper.
Percy walks over to her, chewing on his lip, and she’s reminded that he’s there. Annabeth finally lets the laugh go, lets it bubble out of her stomach, and when she does, it startles her enough to prick tears into her eyes.
“Hey are you okay? Annabeth—Annabeth, are you okay?” Annabeth feels the tears try to fight their way out, hot and slick, but she doesn’t let them, and tries to school her expression into one of indifference.
She looks up to Percy, shoulders trembling, and says, “We need to end this.”
She swears it might be the hardest five words she’s ever had to say, but when they’re finally out, something hollows itself out inside her chest. Percy steps back a second, before rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. He checks his phone screen.
“Oh, I guess it is November 9. So…about time.” He looks crestfallen, though confused, and Annabeth is still fighting not to cry, so she just looks up and joylessly smiles.
“The album will be better for us, now,” she says. “I hope.” Even she can hear how wrecked her voice sounds, hoarse and unstable.
Before she has time to think, Percy is pulling her into a crushing hug.
She wordlessly holds him back, confused by the gesture but welcoming it all the same. She tries to inhale him this one last time, taking in all of the love she had let herself pretend to feel over the past few weeks.
When Percy pulls back, he looks like he’s going to say something else, but smiles half-heartedly and turns around, walking out of Annabeth’s apartment.
When the lock turns behind him, Annabeth sinks to the ground, burying her hands in the sleeves of her sweater, just letting herself feel. She can’t find the energy to hold herself up anymore.
And when she looks down at her sleeves, soaked through, her eyes feeling like they’ve sealed shut, all she can think is, what have I done?
—
“Uh,” Grover starts, clearing his throat over the counter. “Not to be rude, but you look like shit.”
“Thanks.” Annabeth purses her lips and takes a sip of coffee. Normally, she might laugh, but Grover’s right. The coffee scorches her tongue, but she can barely feel it. She usually takes it black, but today she let Grover persuade her into buying something creamy and sugary, hoping that the sugar and caffeine would shock her into waking up. She hasn’t really been awake for the two days, and had resorted to staying in her room. Piper had brought her the occasional meal, and she’d been burying herself under extra credit work. When the coffee maker broke, Piper convinced her to go out to Cafe Demeter. Annabeth knew that Percy wouldn’t be there—when had she subconsciously memorized his schedule?—and put on a pair of clothes.
“Percy told me what you guys did.” Grover taps his fingers soundlessly against the wood counter. “How did you convince yourselves that would be a good idea?”
“I don’t know, Grover,” Annabeth snaps, her patience wearing thin. “It’s not my fault I’ve been in love with him for so many years! Who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to be with someone they like, even if it’s not real?”
“Oh my god, Annabeth,” Grover says, pausing like he’s had a revelation. “Do you seriously not know…?” He rubs his hand over his forehead, smoothing out wrinkles.
“I don’t care, honestly,” Annabeth says. “The album comes out tomorrow. I’m thoroughly heartbroken. We both got exactly what we wanted.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, Percy isn’t doing so great himself.” Annabeth hates it, but she perks up a little when she hears that. Some small, vindictive part of her is happy to hear this. Let him suffer, a part of her brain says. Let him feel a fraction of what she’s feeling right now.
Did the love affair maim you too?
But Annabeth knows that Percy is just feeling like that because that’s how your body is trained to respond to heartbreak, no matter who it’s with.
Plus, they haven’t talked at all in the past day and a half.
When Annabeth got herself into this mess, she made one promise to herself: she would not let this experiment affect their friendship. No matter how badly it ended for her, no matter how shattered she was, their friendship would stay the same. That’s the one thing, the only thing, that has always been too precious to Annabeth to lose. She could handle Percy not loving her back, but them not being friends? Never.
And it looks like she might’ve just broke that fucking promise.
Or, rather, they broke it. Percy could text her as normal, ask her for help on some problem, remind her to eat well, take her meds, and get some sleep, like he usually does, but it’s been radio silence for the past 48 hours.
It’s too long. Annabeth remembers the first time as kids when she and Percy were apart for a substantial amount of time: she was going to some overnight camp during the summer because her father was too busy to have her around, and he and his mom were going on a trip up to the coast. He had begged his mom to let him go with Annabeth, initially, but it didn’t work out, and they were subjected to three weeks without being able to talk to and play with each other.
Annabeth’s handwriting was good enough at that point that she sent him a letter every day and always got one back three days later. Sometimes she would get a letter from him when she was still sending another one, the timeline all mismatched, but she wouldn’t care. She would stay up late at night with a flashlight she’d stolen from one of the counselors and reread his words over and over again in the depths of the night, her chest filled with butterflies.
She knew then that she would never be able to go long without him.
“You two are so blind,” Grover says, shaking Annabeth out of her stupor. “Percy is basically dying without you.”
Annabeth forces herself to shrug. “It’s just how you react to heartbreak. It’s not like he actually loves me.”
Grover clenches his teeth. “Weren’t you at the top of our class in high school?”
Annabeth ignores him and sips her coffee dejectedly. “This tastes awful.”
“Aren’t you feeling better, though?” Grover asks, smirking knowingly.
Annabeth pretends to think for a second. “Nope. Still feel like shit.” She grabs her bag and gets up from the counter.
Grover pats her on the back. “That’s the spirit!” he calls after her as she leaves the coffee shop, flipping him off as she does so.
She misses Percy.
—
It’s 11:58pm on November 11. Piper and Annabeth are piled nearly on top of each other on their dingy sofa, Piper on her third glass of wine from a cheap bottle that she had bought earlier that day. Her twenty-first birthday had passed this last June, and they don’t drink much, but they both decided that the album release was worthy of getting a little tipsy.
Annabeth’s laptop is perched on top of a stack of textbooks on their low coffee table, open to Taylor Swift’s Spotify. Annabeth’s and Piper’s eyes are trained on the screen, their attention undivided.
Piper reloads the page. Annabeth sighs.
“It’s not going to work. You can’t just keep reloading it.”
“What if our clock is a little off? Or she accidentally posts it two minutes early?” Piper locks exasperated eyes with her roommate.
Annabeth knows logically that it won’t do anything, but reaches over to the laptop and reloads the page. As predicted, nothing changes.
Piper gasps. “11:59!” She reaches to grab Annabeth’s hand.
And so follows the longest possible minute of their lives. Annabeth can practically hear the clock ticking. Piper squeezes her hand.
Annabeth watches the little time in the corner of her laptop screen.
Finally, 11:59 turns to 0:00. Piper yells. “Reload it!”
“I’m going!” Annabeth yells back, frantically going to the laptop, hitting the reload button, and finally, finally, it loads. And there, in all its glory, is Red (Taylor’s Version).
Suddenly, Annabeth and Piper freeze. Piper hesitantly asks, “What should we listen to first?”
“Let’s just start at the beginning,” Annabeth answers after deliberating for a moment. She hits play and the drums in “State of Grace” fill their living room. Annabeth takes a moment to lay back on the couch and just feel the moment. When she exhales, she feels the weight of everything that’s happened fall on her. She wonders if Percy is also huddled around this laptop right now, listening to the album.
They did all of it for this, didn’t they? Somehow, Annabeth knows that’s not it. They did all of it for themselves. Annabeth was too selfish to resist, and she strung Percy along in her plan for her own self-gratification. And now they’re not talking.
This is a state of grace, this is the worthwhile fight
Love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right
Annabeth’s eyes prick painfully. She lays her head on Piper’s shoulder. She looks up at Piper, and asks, “What am I going to do?” before taking the bottle of wine and taking a swig from it.
2:13 am sees Piper and Annabeth still on the couch, the last echoes of the ten minute version of “All Too Well” having just drifted off. Piper is sleeping heavily on top of Annabeth, Piper’s head on her stomach, probably having fallen asleep somewhere around the end of the second bottle of wine and “Ronan.” She had cried on Annabeth’s shoulder to the song, complaining about how sad it was, and Annabeth had shushed her softly, coaxing her to sleep.
It’s been a long night.
Annabeth is barely conscious anymore. She’s in some odd stage between sleep and wakefulness, between tipsy and drunk. She’s had just enough wine to make her head feel a little fuzzy and for time to pass a little slower. It’s a nice buzzing in her head, one that makes her feel liquid; so tired she can’t think anymore.
Her eyes are sore from crying. She’s tired of it. Fuck you, Taylor Swift.
But more than anything, Annabeth’s tired of loving Percy. She knows love is supposed to be pure and beautiful, something that gives you a reason to get out of bed in the morning. You can hold onto your love even in the worst of times, because love is always supposed to work out and prevail.
Annabeth thinks all of that is bullshit. Maybe it was like that for a bit, at least in the beginning. In her freshman year of high school when she realized what she felt about Percy was maybe not typical for best friends to feel, and she settled into her realization. It was pretty, she guesses, back then. Magical. Back when she thought maybe she still had a semblance of a chance with Percy. They had been together for their whole lives, so it made sense that maybe he would love her back.
But as they went through high school, that became a distant and fond memory for Annabeth. She felt this same way in her senior year, her heart aching the same way it does now, when she found out that Percy and Rachel were dating.
From then on, her love became something she had to deal with; no longer savored. It was always going to be there—that, she knew. And after time, some of the pain faded. She tried to learn to appreciate her feelings and accept the state of her relationship with Percy. She was lucky enough to be best friends with him.
And I know it’s long gone and that magic’s not here no more
And I might be okay but I’m not fine at all
But now Annabeth has had a taste of what she was missing, and she can’t do it anymore. She needs him to know. At this point, she doesn’t care if it ruins their friendship or not. This has eaten away at her slowly for the past seven years, and now she’s done. It hurts too much to hold on to a dream she knows will never be realized.
She grabs her phone.
When she clicks on Percy’s contact, her phone rings one, twice, three times, before Percy voices on a recording comes over.
“Hey! It’s Percy. I’m not in right now, or my phone is off, or I’m just too tired to get up and answer the phone, so leave a message!”
The cheerfulness in his voice does Annabeth in.
She breaks, hunching over, and tears spill from her eyes, fresh and burning, drawing new paths down her cheeks. “I-I can’t do this anymore. I’m such an idiot.” Her words are slurred heavily and cracked with new tears. “I love you, Seaweed Brain, and-and I’m a fucking asshole for te-telling you just now. I hope you don’t hate me after all this.” She laughs mirthlessly.
I’ve had too much to drink tonight
How did I go from growing up to breaking down?
“I’m just-I’m just…I’m not doing well, and you’re my best f-friend, and I need my best friend, even if you’re the reason I’m like this. I’m sorry, Percy. Will you-will you please come over?” Her voice breaks completely. Annabeth hangs up the phone, her head turned down, sobbing into Piper’s hair. She can’t see. She can’t feel anymore.
The panic hits right before she falls asleep.
—
The first thing Annabeth sees is sunlight streaming in through her window. The first thing Annabeth feels is a pounding in her head.
The second thing Annabeth feels is an arm wrapped around her, draped over her. She looks down. She knows these hands. She thinks, shit.
She maneuvers herself so she’s turned to face the person who has their arm wrapped around her. Percy always looked like a mess in the morning.
Annabeth is frozen in Percy’s sleeping embrace. His face looks so soft, like she could just reach out and run her finger over the highs of his cheekbones, the mussed pieces of his jet black hair. Instead, she whispers, “Percy.”
His eyes open a little bit, and, sleepily, he says, “Annabeth?” His voice is deep with sleep and she taps him on the forehead.
Somewhere, Annabeth knows that she should be panicking, but she can’t think about it right now. “Good morning,” she settles for.
When Percy opens his eyes wider, she’s startled by how clear green they are, and she sneaks out from his embrace. He smiles a little dopily at her. And that’s when she remembers everything.
The voicemail is what hits her first. She sits straight up in bed. “Percy, oh God, Percy—” she babbles, burying her face in her hands. She’s still in her clothes from the night before, and she wasn’t even sleeping beneath the covers. Percy still has a jacket on and is loosely grasping a pair of keys that Annabeth recognizes as Jason’s spare key to this apartment. “Jesus, Percy, I’m so sorry.”
Percy sits up next to her, knocking his head against the bedpost as he does so. “Wait, what are you sorry for?”
“All that stuff I said,” Annabeth says, burrowing deeper into the sleeves of her sweatshirt, “was so embarrassing. And dragging you out of bed in the middle of the night. I was really drunk.”
“Oh,” Percy starts sheepishly. “It’s not a problem. I was awake. And I wanted to come over here anyways. I was losing my mind a little too.”
Annabeth swallows hard and turns away from Percy, preparing to ask the question she’s been avoiding. “You don’t hate me, do you?” Her voice is soft, fearful. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if he says yes.
Percy turns her head towards him and locks eyes with Annabeth. His incredulous expression is almost comical. “What? What, Annabeth? How could I ever hate you?”
“Because, you know,” Annabeth says, trying to avert eye contact and failing, “of what I said.” Her voice shakes a little. “About how I, uh, feel about you.”
Percy laughs brightly and flicks Annabeth’s forehead. She looks at him, confused. “What was that for?” she asks.
“You’re so dumb for ever thinking that I even have it in me to hate you. I know we say I’m dumb a lot, but, wow, this is really on you this time. Actually, maybe it’s on both of us,” Percy says, tapping his chin.
“Could you please just tell me what you’re talking about?”
And instead of answering, Percy looks straight at Annabeth, wordlessly brings up his hands to cup her face, and pulls her into a burning kiss.
Annabeth’s brain short-circuits. She responds in the only way she knows how, which is to kiss Percy back, and holy shit, she’s kissing Percy Jackson.
It’s right. It feels natural. Annabeth attempts to ignore the possibility that all of this could be a dream and just kisses him back, bringing a hand back behind his head, pulling him in deeper. It’s so…tactile. The feeling of his lips against hers, cracked and dry from sleep, his fingertips against her cheekbones, his hair in her fist—all of the sensations are a lot to handle, all at once.
Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch
Out of focus, eye-to-eye, ‘til the gravity’s too much
Annabeth hasn’t kissed many people. A few times back in high school, but they were all relatively uninteresting, and Annabeth now regrets them, because how lovely would it be for this to be her first kiss? How many people get this lucky? How many people get to experience this feeling? She wants to bottle it; to get drunk off of it every night.
Annabeth pulls back hesitantly. “Percy?” she asks, her voice shaking.
“I love you,” Percy says, breathless. “For so long.” His words are quick, frantic, and he pulls her in close, not to another kiss, but to a hug. He is so, so warm, and Annabeth lets herself get lost in the feeling. “You can’t even imagine.”
“I probably could. It’s not like I came to the realization yesterday.”
“How stupid are we?”
Piper walks past Annabeth’s door, dragging herself across the floor, and says, “Pretty fucking stupid if you ask me!”
Annabeth laughs into Percy’s shoulder. She kisses him once more for good measure. He smiles.
After sitting there for a moment, Percy looks up and says, “I think this plan backfired.”
Annabeth’s heart suddenly starts to race. “What do you mean?”
“We’re not heartbroken.” Percy looks at her with half-fake concern.
“I was heartbroken enough for the past few days.” Annabeth hums into Percy’s chest.
“True,” Percy says, and smiles.