Author: ExceedinglyPeculiarChick PM
When they first move into their apartment together, both of them loathe it with a burning passion. / Happy birthday, Taffeh A. Llama!Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Percy J. & Annabeth C. - Words: 561 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 16 - Follows: 1 - Published: 12-22-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8821683
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
When they first move into their apartment together, both of them loathe it with a burning passion.
The living room itself could barely pass for a storage closet—which is its primary use at the moment anyway, because of its close proximity to the front hallway where all their (many) boxes of belongings were placed (read: carelessly dumped) by the movers. Since they needed to at least be able to get through the front door, the boxes had to go somewhere. Logical choice: the closest room available.
(On more than one occasion, Annabeth's found Percy asleep on the pile of boxes he was supposed to be unpacking, completely exhausted by the boredom of the task. She never has the heart to wake him, though.)
Then there's the bathroom, a room their short, pudgy landlord advertised as one of the apartment's "selling points": a tiny mirror over a single cracked sink, barely enough room for one person to move around, let alone two, and a toilet that when flushed sounds uncannily like a dying hellhound. The only upside is the shower, which is surprisingly large for such a small bathroom (a fact that Percy rather suggestively pointed out when they were looking into buying the apartment, at which point she smacked him and told him to shut up).
They've spent hours in home improvement stores trying to figure out ways to make the apartment look better. The only thing Annabeth's found is that, handy as he is with a sword, Percy absolutely fails with power tools.
One night, she's standing out on the balcony (people-watching at Christmastime in New York City is surprisingly enjoyable) when he wraps his arms around her from behind, taking her completely by surprise. "Aren't you cold?"
Annabeth laughs. "Not really. I was just thinking."
She has to resist the urge to slap that sarcastic, knowing smile right off his face.
"All right, Seaweed Brain," she finally relents, grinning. "You."
"I knew it!" he says in a triumphant voice, temporarily breaking his grip on her to do a happy dance.
"Really, Percy?" She fixes him with her trademark how-did-I-end-up-dating-a-Seaweed-Brain-like-you look, and he freezes mid-Macarena.
Annabeth just laughs and pulls him back through the sliding doors. The inside of their apartment is halfway between decorated and completely ransacked, but she ignores the mess and flops onto the couch. Percy collapses beside her.
"I've always wondered why we sort-of celebrate Christmas," he murmurs into her hair a while later, when they've adjusted themselves so she's lying on top of him. "Children of pagan gods..."
"I don't know, honestly," she whispers back, eyes closed.
"Something that Annabeth doesn't know? Gods, is the world ending?"
She smacks him. "Shut up, Percy."
But Annabeth has to smile to herself as she settles back on Percy's chest and swears she can hear the ocean. Forget trying to fix the stupid heating system—she's got her love to keep her warm.
A/N: Merry Christmas and happy New Year, everybody! Hope your apocalypse was as fabulous and zombie-free as mine!
This fic is dedicated to Taffeh A. Llama for being epic and amazeballs and the Jenga Princess Extraordinaire. Happy late birthday. I love you! :)