Umm, hey. Waddup?

So I was talking to me darlin' cousin, and she was all 'blah blah, Percy Jackson and the Olympians', and I was like 'Oh yeah? I never got around to reading the last one.'

(Don't ask me how that happened. I'm not entirely sure.)

So she gave it to me for my birthday (which is fitting, because according to The Last Olympian, me and Percy have the same birthday, and nobody ever has my birthday, so this makes me happy). Except then I still didn't get around to reading it, cuz I was lazy, but then I finally did and I'm on a PJO kick.

Well. That was a pointless story that could have been summed up in much fewer words.

Moving on.


She convinces Percy to take her to the beach.

It takes a surprising amount of time and effort, all sea and god-related things considered, but all he says when she asks him is that he's ticked off a couple of water spirits lately and would rather not get into it right now. She flutters her eyes and kisses him sweetly on the cheek, and he pulls a wonderful red number and half-mutters his way to an agreement.

Really, he's adorable when he's caught off guard.


Percy seems to have suddenly developed a way with either requests or threats (and frankly she'd rather not know which), but in any case it's Tuesday morning in August and Paul's lent them his new car.

They coast down ocean-side roads at a speed he swears is legal, so his hair is flying every which way and his eyes glint deliciously green behind his sunglasses. Their laughter fills the car over and over before it is ripped away by the winds, and she swears Apollo is winking at them from his flying maserati in the sky.


She spreads their blanket across stardust sand, weighing three corners with pearly white stones and the last with her shoe. He's convinced the old parasol to give it's last stand, and it throws rainbow streaks around them as far as it can reach in a final display of glory.

They have a breakfast for the gods, or half-gods, in any case, and she kisses the powdered sugar off his nose while he wrestles with his backpack. The backpack wins when he gives in laughing.

She bravely offers to retrieve the sunscreen instead.


It turns out Percy no longer needs sun protection anyway, which unsettles her as it always does when she's reminded of…


But she puts on a brave face, kisses the small of his back, and humourously sunscreens that bit anyway. It's quick and spontaneous and the exact opposite of how he treats her back minutes later.


He decides to take her to the bottom of the ocean, but then changes his mind and just floats with her instead.

And she's beautiful, she really is, and so is the feeling of sun on his face and cool water on his back, and their fingers interlace somewhere between his world and hers, and it's a beautiful thing.

In the next moment, though, she's fidgeting and moving and ready to go, and maybe he laughs a little bit because its so Annabeth and beautiful too, and suddenly she's worried that she's ruined something for him.

It's new to him, how much she cares.


He takes a nap right there on the beach, lying sprawled out on the sand with his arms stretched out as if he means to embrace the sky. He's beautiful, too, with sun-kissed skin and night-black hair and diamonds sparkling off his eyelashes.

She wriggles in beside him, and she's not sure if he really just opened his eye or not, but his side is warm and salty and solid, and she's pretty sure she might want to stay next to him forever.

The sea breeze has never smelled so sweet to her, and she wonders if that's what it means- to love him.


She craves his touch so much sometimes it hurts, because he's young and insecure and she supposes he's not used to the idea, that he can just walk right up and put his arm around her if he wants to.

And maybe he doesn't want to.

It's late afternoon when the wave douses her, out of nowhere, although she supposes she should have been wary of sitting on the water's edge. She doesn't have the heart left to be amused by his silliness, because frankly, she's a little tired of hinting for today, and so she turns away from him and wriggles her toes into the white-gold shore.


He's hunting for starfish and avoiding nereids and basking in the warmth and strength the ocean brings him, and he's found a fish he can't remember the name of and wants to ask her.

The wave isn't meant to go up to her face.

And she's upset, he realizes in a rush, and he's not quite sure what's done it this time but he's well aware that it hurts and that it's likely his fault too. He walks up and comforts her the way he knows best, and he thinks he tastes a bit of forgiveness.


The sun take it's time about setting, as though it knows something important is going on, and perhaps Aphrodite's been chatting to Apollo because in fact it seems to take forever.

The colours stretch across the sky in patterns so far unseen by her, but she's a little too preoccupied to notice. She's fairly sure her entire body is blushing, but what can she do, when he comes at her like that?

She thinks perhaps her favourite thing in the world just might be his touch, and it's everywhere. On her neck, running down the line of her jaw, tracing down her arm and sliding back up her side, and it's the coolcool sand against his hothot mouth, and she's pretty sure he's winning.


The sun's just set with a blaze of glory, leaving all manner of light and chaos in it's wake, and she watches him sit. She's a little giddy, or maybe a lot, and she's carving patterns of her soul into the sand at her feet.

His face is fierce as he looks towards the horizon, and his eyes black-green as they glare into the distance, and she remembers that this man has killed. He has killed many, many times over.

But then, so has she, and she leans her head against his shoulder.


They drive back well past dark, with the old blanket wrapped around her and the parasol safely in the back.

He drives slower this time, at a speed that is perhaps less likely to get them killed but designed to draw out the day. He plays soft music from the stereo, whispering words of love and hope and heartbreak, with it she falls in love with him all over again.


They stand before camp.

It is way past curfew, and they're probably awaiting some obscene amount of reprimand, but she's counting on slipping in unnoticed and perhaps getting some sleep before tomorrow.

But she can't quite make herself go in, and neither can he, and they stand on the threshold for forever and a bit before he tugs her hand and decides to take her into the city.


'Will you stay?'

'I'm right here.'


'…Yeah. Yeah, forever.'

Heyheyhey... not bad, I hope? I just kinda felt like writing them at the beach, and then I felt like writing it in pieces.

But you can let me know what you think by pressing the REVIEW button, as per usual.

(I'm starved. Anybody wanna share some food? Preferably of the coconut cream pie variety?)