Chapter Text
the afternoon sun settled over camp half-blood in a heavy, golden haze, turning the strawberry fields beyond the cabins almost too bright to look at. the cicadas had been screaming since lunch, almost loud enough to drown out the clang of swords from the arena whenever the wind shifted the right way.
camp wasn’t winding down.
if anything, it felt busier than usual.
a group of younger campers sprinted across the green with water balloons, one satyr chasing after them while pretending not to laugh. somewhere near the stables, a pegasus let out an indignant shriek. the smell of barbecue drifted from the pavilion where dinner was already being started, mixing with sunscreen, pine needles, and the smoke from the torches.
percy cut between cabin seven and the volleyball court with his duffel slung over one shoulder.
he checked his phone.
mom: here :)
twenty minutes ago.
“…shit.”
he picked up his pace. he’d only meant to stop by cabin eleven for a minute. then connor had started talking. then grover had found him.
then someone had asked him to settle an argument about whether blackjack could technically beat a ferrari in a race. he still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten dragged into that one.
the gravel crunched beneath him as he reached the parking area at the bottom of half-blood hill. paul’s blue prius was easy to spot beneath the only patch of real shade. he smiled automatically at the sight of it.
“hey—sorry, i got—”
he slowed.
the front passenger seat was empty.
at least, pertaining to a human passenger.
grocery bags were stacked to the window. a folded beach umbrella rested across the dashboard. there were beach towels, a box fan, two pillows, estelle’s bright pink sand bucket, and enough stuffed animals to supply a small toy store.
“…mom.”
sally looked up from the trunk, smiling like nothing about this arrangement was unusual.
“hi, sweetheart.”
“what’s with all the stuff?”
she laughed.
“paul and estelle already drove out this morning.”
“with… none of this?”
“with everything that fit.”
she gave the pile an encouraging pat.
“this didn’t.”
percy shook his head, smiling despite himself.
“i don’t think i fit.”
“you will in the back.”
he stepped around the bumper and lifted his duffel into the trunk.
it landed beside another bag.
it was gray canvas, with pencil and sharpie smudges decorating the fabric. both of the straps were worn and frayed. he knew this bag.
his hand stayed resting on the trunk a second longer than it needed to.
“…mom?”
“hey.”
he turned.
annabeth was walking toward the car from the direction of the big house, sunglasses pushed up on top of her head, a water bottle balanced in one hand. she’d changed out of training armor hours ago, wearing an oversized sweatshirt with the sleeves shoved to her elbows despite the heat. his oversized sweatshirt that he gave her two weeks ago. the breeze caught a few loose pieces of her braid, lifting them away from her face.
she smiled when she saw him.
it was weirdly easy, considering.
“finally escaped?”
“yeah.”
she stopped beside the car, setting her water on the roof while she adjusted the strap of her backpack.
“i thought somebody kidnapped you again.”
“almost.”
“hermes cabin?”
“how’d you know?”
she shrugged.
“good guess.”
for half a second, it felt normal. the kind of conversation they’d had every day for years. then she glanced toward the backseat.
“ready?”
percy frowned. “…for what?”
she looked at him. her smile slipped as her brow furrowed. “montauk.”
he blinked. “…what?”
she frowned back.
“your mom invited me.”
the parking lot suddenly felt much more suffocating.
percy turned to sally.
“you invited annabeth?”
“i did.”
“when?”
“i sent a letter a few days ago.”
“you didn’t tell me.”
sally’s forehead creased.
“…i was positive i did.”
“well.”
annabeth’s eyes moved between the two of them.
“…you didn’t know?”
he shook his head once.
“no.”
she shifted her weight. the confidence she’d walked over with disappeared almost instantly.
“…i only found out last night.”
“oh.”
“i thought she’d already asked you.”
“apparently she skipped that step.”
“oops,” sally said.
percy laughed once through his nose. he wasn’t sure what else to do.
annabeth looked down at the gravel.
“i can just get argus to drive me.”
“absolutely not,” sally said immediately.
“it’s really okay.”
“it’s a two-hour drive to the exact same cabin.”
“sally—”
“you’re both coming with me.”
she closed the trunk with a solid thunk.
“end of discussion.”
annabeth glanced at percy again. would he rather she insist?
“…are you sure?”
he met her eyes.
there wasn’t any reason to say no.
he wanted her there, the surprise was what had thrown him. and the current relationship status it found them in. not the idea itself.
“yeah,” he said quietly.
“okay.”
she nodded once.
“okay.”
sally opened the rear passenger door.
“you two.”
percy looked inside. the backseat suddenly seemed much smaller than he remembered.
“seriously?”
“unless one of you would like to sit on the groceries.”
annabeth climbed in first, sliding all the way across toward the passenger-side window. she tucked her backpack onto her lap, curling one leg slightly beneath the other to make room.
percy ducked in after her. the old springs dipped under his weight.
the door shut with a heavy click. and their shoulders brushed immediately.
they both tried to shift away but there wasn’t anywhere to go.
his knee bumped hers instead.
“sorry.”
“sorry.”
they both stopped.
looked anywhere except at each other.
the air conditioner hummed to life with a tired rattle, pushing out air that was only slightly cooler than the afternoon heat.
sally pulled onto the road leading away from camp.
the silence settled almost instantly. and sally, thankfully oblivious, filled most of it herself.
“paul texted. estelle already wants to know when you’ll be there, annabeth.”
annabeth smiled.
“she’s probably halfway through building a sandcastle already.”
“she refused to start without you.”
“did she really?”
“you’re the only one who knows how to make towers that don’t fall over.”
their conversation floated easily from the front seat to the back.
percy listened and answered only when someone asked him something. otherwise, he stayed quiet.
he rested his elbow against the door and looked out the window as camp disappeared behind the trees. without realizing it, his fingers started tapping against his jeans.
a restless rhythm.
index finger.
middle finger.
again.
he switched to bouncing his knee.
the movement was barely noticeable at first.
then a little faster.
the seat shook almost imperceptibly.
annabeth answered another question from sally.
then, out of the corner of her eye, noticed his leg hadn’t stopped moving in several minutes.
she watched his hand tap once more against his thigh. she’d seen him do it before. before difficult quests, before important conversations, whenever his thoughts got too loud.
very quietly, so casually it almost seemed unconscious, she reached across the few inches between them and rested her hand lightly over his. just enough weight to still the constant tapping.
his fingers froze beneath hers and his knee stopped bouncing.
slowly, he looked down. then over at her.
she kept her eyes ahead of her.
“you’re shaking the whole seat,” she murmured.
the corner of his mouth twitched.
“…sorry.”
“i know.”
for the first time since he’d walked into the parking lot, his shoulders relaxed a fraction.
outside, the road curved toward montauk.
inside, sally kept talking about whether they should stop for peaches at the farm stand before the bridge, completely unaware that, in the backseat, two people who’d never really struggled to be around each other before were quietly trying to remember how.
the thing was, percy knew annabeth.
that was what made it worse.
if it had been anyone else, maybe the silence would’ve been easier.
a new camper, someone he barely knew, someone he had to find things to say to, maybe.
but annabeth knew when he was lying. she knew when he was nervous. she knew the difference between him being quiet because he was tired and him being quiet because something was bothering him.
and now she was sitting just inches away from him, close enough that their shoulders touched every time the car went over a bump, and he had no idea what she was thinking.
it was terrifying.
his fingers shifted slightly under hers and in return, her thumb moved once against the side of his hand.
it was barely anything. but he noticed.
“you know,” she said after a while, still looking out the window, “you’re allowed to ask questions.” her voice was low enough that sally wouldn’t hear. her words just for percy.
he glanced at her.
“about what?”
“about me coming.”
he went still.
annabeth kept her eyes forward.
“i know you were surprised.”
“i was.”
“i could tell.”
“sorry.”
“why are you apologizing?”
he looked down.
“i don’t know.”
he feels her turn toward him and his eyes flick up to her face.
“percy.”
“what?”
“you don’t have to act like you’re upset.”
“i’m not.”
“i know.”
he looked out the window again. the trees blurred past in shades of green and gold.
“i just wish i knew.”
“about the trip or… about me?”
percy wasn’t sure. maybe it was both.
annabeth looked down at their hands.
“i thought your mom told you.”
“yeah.”
“she really thought she did.”
“that sounds like her.”
a small smile crossed her face, but it disappeared quickly.
“i almost didn’t come.”
his head turned.
“why?”
“because i didn’t want it to be weird.”
the answer surprised him.
“weird?”
she shrugged slightly.
“i don’t know,” she looked out the window. “it’s different.”
he knew she was right. camp was easy. camp had rules. they trained together, ate together, and went on quests together. and there was always something else happening to distract them. a monster. a mission. a new camper.
but this was just a car.
just montauk.
just three days where there was nothing else to hide behind.
“i don’t think it’s weird,” he said.
annabeth looked at him.
“no?”
he shook his head.
“no.”
a beat passed.
“i’m glad you’re coming.”
something in her expression softened.
“okay.”
and that was it.
—
when sally finally pulled into the farm stand parking lot, percy realized his hand had gone numb from being in the same position for so long.
he pulled away slowly when the door opened. the loss of contact was immediate.
annabeth seemed to notice too.
but neither of them said anything.
they climbed out into the warm afternoon air.
the farm stand was small, tucked beside the road with wooden crates stacked beneath a faded awning. peaches sat in neat rows, their orange and pink skins glowing in the sunlight.
sally walked ahead, already asking the person behind the counter about which ones were sweetest.
percy stayed back.
annabeth stopped beside him.
for a moment, they just stood there.
the breeze moved through the trees. somewhere nearby, a car passed on the road.
“you’re still thinking.”
he looked at her.
“you’re still noticing.”
“yeah.”
because that was the thing about annabeth. she always noticed even when he wished she wouldn’t. especially then.
“sorry,” he said.
her eyebrows pulled together slightly.
“for what?”
he didn’t have an answer. so he just shrugged.
annabeth looked at him for a second longer. then she turned toward the peaches.
“help your mom pick some before she buys the entire stand.”
he followed her.
annabeth stepped closer to the crates of peaches, running her fingers lightly over the tops of them as she looked.
percy stayed beside her.
he told himself he was looking too.
he wasn’t.
not really.
his attention kept drifting.
to the way the sunlight caught the loose pieces of hair that had fallen out of her braid during the drive.
to the way she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head when they started slipping.
to the little crease that appeared between her eyebrows when she was deciding something.
things he’d seen a thousand times.
things that shouldn’t have felt different.
except lately, everything did.
that was the problem. nothing had changed and yet everything had changed.
annabeth picked up a peach.
“this one.”
percy looked over.
“you’re sure?”
“yes.”
“you haven’t even tried it.”
she glanced at him.
“i can tell.”
“you can tell from looking?”
“yes.”
he almost smiled.
“that doesn’t make any sense. how can you tell?”
“you just don’t have the gift,” she teases.
there was no bite to it.
just them. the same way they always were. and somehow that made it harder. this was the part nobody talked about. the part where everyone else seemed to think they understood what was happening, while they were still stuck somewhere in the middle.
she took a bite of the peach.
and for a second, she just stood there, the sun shining on her face. then she looked down.
“oh.”
percy followed her gaze.
juice had slipped down her hand.
“seriously?”
she sounded more annoyed at herself than anything.
he looked around automatically. there wasn’t anything nearby. no napkin. no paper towel.
just the peach stand and the shirt he was wearing.
before she could figure it out, he reached out.
“hold still.”
annabeth looked up.
“what?”
he didn’t answer.
he just lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe the juice from her palm.
and maybe it should’ve been nothing.
maybe it was nothing.
because this was what they did. they noticed. they helped. they took care of each other without thinking.
but the second stretched longer than it should have.
because annabeth was looking up at him.
and percy suddenly became very aware of how close they were standing.
aware of the fact that her hand was still in his.
aware of the fact that neither of them had moved away yet.
his fingers loosened slightly.
“there.”
his voice came out quieter than he meant it to.
annabeth looked down at her hand.
then back at him.
“thanks.”
“yeah.”
neither of them moved for a second.
then annabeth took another bite of the peach.
and, somehow, again, managed to get a little juice on her chin this time.
percy noticed before she did.
this time, he didn’t even think.
he reached back over and wiped it away.
the second he did, they both froze. the heel of his palm still on her chin, his thumb still grazing her bottom lip.
it was too familiar. something he’d done the last time he kissed her.
annabeth’s expression changed slightly. and he can almost feel the question neither of them had directly asked.
what are we?
percy dropped his hand.
“sorry.”
the word came out automatically.
annabeth looked at him.
“why are you sorry?”
he didn’t know.
he was sorry because he didn’t know where the line was anymore.
sorry because sometimes being around her felt so easy that he forgot there was a line at all.
“i don’t know.”
for once, she didn’t have an answer.
so she just looked back at the peach in her hand.
“it’s still good.”
percy glanced at it.
“even after it attacked you?”
a tiny smile appeared.
“especially after. juice means it’s ready.”
and just like that, the moment loosened.
percy looked at her again.
annabeth was looking away already.
but he knew her well enough to know she was thinking about it too.
before either of them could say anything else, a voice called from behind them.
“did you two disappear, or did the peaches finally win?”
percy looked over.
sally was standing a few feet away with the bag of fruit in one hand, looking between them with an amused but completely innocent expression.
the moment broke.
annabeth looked at sally, clearing her throat slightly as she awkwardly adjusted the peach in her hand.
“we were right here.”
“uh-huh.”
percy narrowed his eyes.
“what?”
“nothing.”
which, coming from his mom, usually meant something. but she didn’t push. she just held up the bag.
“are we ready?”
percy nodded.
“yeah.”
they walked back toward the car.
when they got back in, the backseat felt exactly the same as before.
the air conditioner rattled on, the bags shifted around their feet, the road noise filled the silence.
annabeth sat by the door now, her backpack tucked against her side. percy sat beside her. their shoulders still brushed when the car turned. their knees still bumped every once in a while.
but neither of them apologized this time. they just let it happen.
sally started talking almost immediately, filling them in on the rest of the plans.
“we’ll probably get there around dinner. paul said he’d start grilling when we’re close.”
“estelle still awake?” percy asked.
“she’s been asking every twenty minutes.”
annabeth smiled.
“that sounds like her.”
“she also asked if you were bringing the book you promised her.”
annabeth looked surprised.
“the mythology one?”
“yes.”
“i packed it.”
percy glanced over.
“you packed a mythology book?”
“she likes it.”
“she’s a toddler.”
“and?”
he looked back at the window.
“nothing.”
because of course annabeth remembered the little things like that.
the rest of the drive passed slower, with the kind of quiet where everyone was tired and the sun was starting to sink lower.
sally turned the radio down as the sky changed colors outside the windows.
blue faded into gold and gold faded into pink.
the closer they got, the more familiar everything became.
the roads. the houses. the smell of the ocean coming through the cracked windows.
percy watched as annabeth rested her head against the glass. their reflections appeared faintly in the window.
“you okay?” annabeth asked, breaking the silence.
he looked over.
annabeth was still facing the window.
he knew what she was asking about. percy thought about lying.
he usually did. but with her, it was harder to commit to the lie.
“yeah.”
a pause.
“you?”
she nodded slightly.
“yeah.”
it wasn’t the full truth, but it was enough.
somehow, sitting there in the backseat, heading toward the ocean with his mom driving and annabeth beside him, percy didn’t feel like he needed an answer right now. not yet, anyway.
outside, the first glimpse of water appeared beyond the trees.
and for the first time all afternoon, he stopped thinking.
he just looked.
by the time they turned onto the road leading to the house, the sky had darkened even more.
percy knew they were close before he saw it. he could feel the familiar curve of the road. see the houses getting smaller and farther apart. then the beach house came into view.
the porch wrapped around the front, the windows catching the last bit of sunlight, the whole place looking exactly the way it always did.
weathered and warm and home.
sally pulled into the driveway.
“we’re here.”
percy sat up, realizing only then how stiff he was from the drive.
beside him, annabeth looked out the window and smiled slightly.
the car turned off.
“okay. everybody out before i decide we’re gonna live out of this car with the groceries.”
annabeth gets out first.
“you say that like you wouldn’t make us comfortable.”
“i would absolutely make us comfortable.”
“that’s concerning.”
“percy.”
“right. getting out.”
he stepped into the warm evening air and immediately, he felt the difference between camp and here. camp was the sound of swords clashing. montauk was the sound of the ocean.
before he could grab anything from the trunk, the front door opened.
“percy!”
a tiny blur appeared in the doorway. his whole expression changed instantly.
“hey, bug.”
estelle toddled as fast as her little legs could carry her across the porch, arms already reaching up. percy barely had time to laugh before he crouched down and picked her up.
she immediately grabbed onto him.
“you took forever.”
he looked over at sally.
“did she just say that?”
sally smiled.
“she’s been practicing.”
“i only took a few hours!”
“forever.”
estelle rested her head against his shoulder, completely satisfied now that he was there. then she noticed someone behind him and her eyes widened.
“annie!”
annabeth smiled immediately.
“hi, estelle.”
estelle reached toward her. annabeth laughed softly and stepped closer to percy.
“you want me too?”
a very serious nod. percy watched as annabeth took her from him.
and it was so easy. there was no awkwardness or hesitation. estelle had known her since before she was even born. she trusted her, reached for her like she belonged. another thing he and his sister had in common.
annabeth adjusted her on her hip, and estelle immediately started pointing toward the house, explaining something that was impossible to understand because half the words were still toddler words.
“okay,” annabeth said seriously. “i’m listening.”
percy smiled despite himself. because of course she listened to estelle like every word mattered.
“she wants to show you something,” sally said, grabbing bags from the trunk.
“i gathered that.”
estelle pointed again.
“okay, okay. show me.”
she carried her toward the house.
percy stood there for a second, watching. then paul called from inside.
“percy, you helping or just standing in the driveway?”
he looked over.
“i’m helping!” he yells back.
“oh, are you?” sally teases.
“i was literally about to.”
“sure.”
percy grabbed the bags, shaking his head as he followed.
by the time everything was inside, dinner was ready.
the kitchen was warm from the oven, the windows cracked open to let in the ocean air.
estelle sat in her booster seat at the table, kicking her feet while paul cut up her food into smaller pieces.
sally moved around the kitchen, grabbing the last few things.
annabeth sat beside estelle, letting her explain something very important about a toy she had apparently brought everywhere with her.
percy leaned against the counter for a moment, just watching. it was weird.
because earlier, in the car, everything had felt like it was suspended.
like he and annabeth were stuck in this strange space where they both knew something had changed but neither of them knew what to call it.
and now she was sitting at his family’s dinner table. his little sister was showing her a stuffed animal. his mom was asking her about camp and college.
everything was almost too normal.
“percy.”
he looked over. sally handed him a plate. “help?”
“yeah,” he nods, taking the plate from her.
when he finally sat down, annabeth looked up and their eyes met for a second. then estelle immediately interrupted by holding up her stuffed animal.
“annabeth, look.”
and annabeth turned toward her like nothing else in the world was more important.
percy looked back down at his plate and tried to hide a smile behind his glass.
—
you could tell dinner was over when estelle’s talking got quieter. her fork started moving slower, the same story she had been telling about her stuffed animal began repeating itself for the third time. percy noticed before anyone said anything.
“she’s done.”
sally looked over.
“what?”
he nodded toward estelle.
“she’s fighting sleep.”
as if she heard him, estelle immediately sat up straighter.
“i’m not tired.”
paul smiled.
“nobody said you were.”
“i’m not.”
“okay.”
“i’m awake.”
“of course,” paul smiles.
she nodded seriously. then yawned.
annabeth looked down at her, trying not to smile.
estelle caught it.
“what?”
“nothing.”
“you’re laughing.”
“i’m not.”
“you are.”
percy leaned back in his chair.
“she’s got you there.”
annabeth looked at him.
“whose side are you on?”
“the side of reality.”
“wow.”
“sorry.”
“you’re not.”
“no.”
that earned a small smile on annabeth’s lips.
before the moment could become anything else, estelle pushed her plate away.
“can annabeth put me to bed?”
annabeth immediately softened.
“yeah, of course.”
percy watched her stand. there was something about seeing her with his family that still felt strange. annabeth fit so easily it was hard to feel this disconnected from her at the moment.
sally started clearing plates.
“bathroom first.”
estelle groaned and percy laughed quietly.
“percy.”
“what?”
“don’t encourage her,” sally scolds.
“i didn’t,” he holds his hands up, watching as annabeth disappeared down the hallway with estelle, her little hand wrapped around two of annabeth’s fingers.
percy stayed behind, helping clear the table.
but his attention kept drifting.
he could hear estelle’s voice from the hallway.
could hear annabeth answering every question seriously, even the ones that made no sense.
“do you think my stuffed bunny likes the ocean?”
“probably.”
“how do you know?”
“because he looks like he’d like the ocean.”
“yeah.”
a pause.
“he does.”
percy smiled to himself.
when the kitchen was finally clean, he leaned against the counter.
sally glanced at him.
“you okay?”
he looked over.
“yeah.”
she studied him for a second.
his mom had always been good at that, noticing things without making him explain.
“she’s happy you’re here.”
he looked toward the hallway.
“estelle?”
sally smiled slightly.
“mm,” she hums. “both of you.”
percy didn’t answer. mostly because he didn’t know what to say. everyone else seemed so comfortable with whatever this was. his family, his friends. even annabeth, sometimes.
and he was the one still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
a few minutes later, annabeth came back.
“she’s asleep,” she says, her voice quieter than before.
“already?”
“she was pretending not to be tired.”
“shocking.”
annabeth looked at him.
“she gets that from you.”
“false.”
“percy.”
“okay. maybe a little.”
she smiled victoriously.
and for a second, it was easy again. it felt just like them before everything. no questions, no trying to figure it out. just standing in the kitchen after dinner, listening to the ocean outside and knowing they still had three days ahead of them.
the house was quieter now. though there was still the sound of waves rolling in somewhere beyond the dunes, the occasional creak of the old house settling, the breeze moving through the open windows. but the energy changed into something slower.
sally appeared in the kitchen doorway a few minutes later, grabbing a light jacket from the back of a chair.
“paul and i are going to walk for a little bit.”
percy looked up from where he was stacking plates.
“now?”
“yes, now.”
“why?”
“because i want to.”
he narrowed his eyes.
“that sounds suspicious.”
“it’s a walk, percy.”
“still suspicious.”
paul laughed from behind her.
“we’ll be back soon.”
sally pointed at the sink.
“dishes.”
“i was already doing them.”
“good.”
she looked between him and annabeth.
“don’t stay up too late,” she tells them.
percy immediately knew that tone.
“mom.”
“what?”
“nothing.”
and then they were gone.
the front door closed, the sound echoing through the house.
and suddenly it was just them.
percy stood at the sink now, rinsing the last few plates while annabeth dried them beside him, sleeves pushed up to her elbows.
they weren’t talking. with anyone else, the silence would’ve felt awkward. with annabeth, it usually didn’t. except tonight. tonight everything felt slightly off.
maybe because of the car ride. or the farm stand.
or maybe because they’d spent the entire day doing things they’d done a hundred times before, except now they were both suddenly aware of every little thing.
like how close they were standing. the kitchen wasn’t big. there wasn’t much room between the counter and the sink, so every time one of them moved, the other had to shift slightly.
percy reached for a plate.
annabeth moved at the same time.
their hands almost bumped and both of them stopped at the same time.
“sorry,” he said quietly.
“you’re fine.” she handed him the plate.
their fingers brushed for half a second. but it was enough to make him forget what he was doing for a moment.
he looked away, putting the plate down. annabeth went back to drying the next one.
the window above the sink was cracked open, letting in the cool night air. annabeth’s hair moved slightly with the breeze, a few pieces falling loose around her face. percy caught himself looking, yet again.
he looked back at the dishes. this was becoming a problem. not because he didn’t want to look. he did, so desperately, so easily. he wanted to look at her and never look at anyone or anything else ever again.
“you’re staring again,” her voice was quiet.
“what?” he glanced over, too in his thoughts to have properly heard her.
“you’re staring,” she repeats herself. she didn’t sound annoyed, just like she knew what was going through his head.
percy looked down.
“right.”
and then there was silence again.
the last dish was dried, the last fork was put away. and still, neither of them moved.
percy leaned back against the counter.
annabeth stayed where she was on the other side of the small kitchen island.
close enough that the space between them felt smaller than it should have. far enough that neither of them had to do anything about it.
outside, the ocean kept moving.
inside, everything felt strangely still.
“you tired?” annabeth asked.
percy shook his head.
“not really.”
she nodded.
“me neither.”
another pause. and somehow that was the whole conversation. because they both knew what they meant. neither of them wanted to go upstairs yet. neither of them wanted to break whatever this quiet little moment was.
so they stayed.
eventually, percy broke the silence by grabbing the old playstation controller from the basket beneath the television.
“mind?”
annabeth looked up from where she was standing by the bookshelf.
“go ahead.”
he dropped onto the couch with the familiar ease of someone who’d spent half his summers there, stretching one arm along the back cushion as the television flickered to life.
the console whirred loudly before the menu finally appeared.
“still sounds like it might explode,” annabeth comments.
“it’s part of the experience.”
“i’m sure.” she smiled to herself as she turned toward the bookshelf.
there were books scattered all over the house—on shelves, tucked beneath side tables, stacked on the coffee table—but she already knew where the one she wanted was. she pulled it free. an old paperback with a bent spine that had lived in the beach house for as long as either of them could remember.
percy heard the pages rustle behind him. he glanced over his shoulder.
“found one?”
“mhm.”
“good?”
“i’ve read it twice.”
“then why read it again?”
she looked at him over the top of the book.
“because i like it.”
“fair.”
annabeth crossed the room and settled into the armchair by the window.
it was old enough that the cushions sank the second she sat down. she tucked one leg underneath herself, then the other, curling into the corner almost instinctively before opening the book across her knees.
the lamp beside her cast a warm circle of light over the pages.
outside, the windows reflected little more than darkness and the occasional flash of moonlight on the water.
percy started the game.
the familiar music filled the room, low enough not to interrupt the quiet.
he played for a while. or tried to.
every few minutes, without meaning to, his eyes drifted away from the television. annabeth hadn’t moved much. every now and then she’d reach up and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. turn another page, shift deeper into the chair. she was completely absorbed. she always read like the rest of the world had disappeared.
percy smiled to himself. he looked back at the screen just in time to realize he’d driven his character straight into a wall.
“…seriously?”
he restarted. five minutes later, it happened again. this time because he’d looked over when she laughed quietly under her breath at something she’d read. it wasn’t even a big laugh. just the smallest little exhale through her nose. he’d heard that laugh a thousand times.
it still pulled his attention away without asking.
he sighed, dropping his head back against the couch.
“you’re distracting.”
annabeth didn’t even look up.
“i’m reading.”
“exactly.”
a page turned.
“that sounds like a you problem.”
“i guess it is,” he concedes.
she hummed absently, eyes never leaving the book.
another minute passed.
the room settled back into silence. the only sounds were the clicking of the controller, the turning of pages, and the waves outside. percy wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that.
time always moved differently at the beach house. slower and softer.
he lost another race. this one because he’d looked over just as annabeth shifted in the chair, pulling the oversized camp sweatshirt over her knees as the breeze drifted through the open window. he caught himself staring for a second. then forced himself back to the television.
“…unbelievable.”
“lose again?” she still hadn’t looked up.
“maybe.”
“you’re getting rusty.”
“i’m being sabotaged.”
that made her smile. he saw it even though she was looking at the page. the corner of her mouth lifting for only a second before disappearing again. he smiled too.
then finally won the next race. mostly because he’d managed to keep his eyes on the screen for almost an entire lap.
the night eventually ended without either of them really deciding it was over. percy set the controller down on the coffee table. annabeth finished the page she’d been on before sliding a bookmark between the pages and closing the book with a soft thump.
the room stayed quiet. the clock on the microwave blinked 12:18.
percy stretched, his shoulders popping.
“late.”
annabeth glanced toward the kitchen.
“a little.”
neither of them moved right away.
the beach house had settled around them hours ago. outside, the waves kept their steady rhythm against the shore, and on the porch, the screen door tapped softly in the breeze.
finally, annabeth stood first.
“i’m going to brush my teeth.”
“probably a good idea.”
“you should too.”
“yeah.”
they wandered down the hallway together, turning on as few lights as possible.
the bathroom was small, barely big enough for both of them.
percy reached for his toothbrush from the cup beside the sink just as annabeth pulled hers from her toiletry bag.
for a minute, the only sound was running water and the quiet scrape of toothbrushes.
they stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the mirror.
their reflections looked tired. sunburn beginning to show across percy’s nose. a few wisps of annabeth’s braid had escaped completely, frizzing from the humidity.
he caught her eye in the mirror. she caught his. they both looked away almost immediately.
when they finished, percy leaned over the sink to rinse.
annabeth was already washing her face, cool water cupped in her hands before she smoothed it over her skin.
she closed her eyes for a second, pushing damp hair back from her forehead. percy dried his hands on the towel hanging beside the sink.
“night.”
she looked over.
“night,” she echoed.
he hesitated for the smallest moment.
“sleep well.”
the corners of her mouth lifted.
“you too.”
he stepped into the hallway first.
the house was dark now, lit only by a small lamp left on in the kitchen. he paused outside his bedroom door. it felt strangely natural to leave it open. his room had always been the guest room whenever annabeth stayed. he’d slept on the couch enough summers that it barely registered anymore.
he pushed the door open.
“your bag’s already in there.”
annabeth nodded.
“thanks.”
she walked past him into the room, setting her book on the nightstand before turning toward him again. for a second, neither of them said anything. then she gave him a small smile.
“goodnight, percy.”
“night, annabeth.”
he closed the door most of the way behind her, leaving it cracked like he always did. the couch creaked softly beneath him as he stretched out a minute later. he grabbed the old throw blanket draped over the back and pulled it over himself.
through the open windows, the ocean breeze drifted through the house.
up the hallway, he heard the faint click of a lamp turning off. then nothing.
he fell asleep with the familiar comfort of knowing she was only a few rooms away.