fireworks.

percy & annabeth

( meant to be )

:: author's note: so... it's my birthday. and also this is not angst *is shocked*. but mostly it's my birthday. sweet sixteen, booyahh. reviews are the best presents, so... feel free to drop some by for me :)
p.s. i don't like the song that much. just an fyi.
thanks to Kris (koalakoala) for the beta :) ::

disclaimer: not mine.


Do you know that there's still a chance for you?
Cause there's a spark in you.
You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine.
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July.

Cause, baby, you're a firework.
Come on, show them what you're worth.

Firework, Katy Perry.


He's not quite sure how he got himself in this position. It just happened… really fast. He knows he can't mess this up, he can't, because it's Annabeth, and he just can't.

Or can he?

"Percy?" She's dangerously close now. He feels his mouth go dry. He laughs nervously.

She smiles. "What's wrong?"

"Er... nothing?" He says it like a question, because he's not sure of the right answer. But Annabeth's smart, maybe she knows. She'll fill him in.

She rolls her eyes and laughs. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

Or maybe she won't.

Crap.


Reader, you have probably already realized that you came into the story in the middle. So, as Percy waits for Annabeth to (hopefully) fill him in, I'll fill you in.


This story, quite simply, is about a boy, and a small something called 'love'.

I suppose you might have heard of the thing. In any case, it is very, very important. I suggest you listen carefully.


Percy Jackson has been in love a grand total of four times in his entire life.

Why are you staring like that? Stop it. Four is a lot for a sixteen-year-old. Think about it; that's like, once every four years.

Don't judge.


The first time Percy falls in love is during his tenth birthday. His mother has just brought out his presents. There aren't many, but he doesn't mind so much, because his mom put thought into this and that makes it perfect. It's been just him and his mom all day, and he likes it best that way. He doesn't need a big party, just his (only real) family, some blue cake, and a present or two. A big, blue-stained smile splits his face as Mom hands him the first (and only) package.

He tears it open and pulls the brightly colored paper away to reveal…

a brand new…

shiny&black…

PlayStation 2.

"Mom!" he gasps. She smiles.

"Happy birthday, Percy."

"Thank you so much!" He clutches the device to his chest as he throws his free arm around his mom's neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

She laughs through his enthusiastic display of appreciation and watches as he runs to the TV and eagerly hooks up the proper cables. He presses the power button and the television screen jumps to life.

Percy grins, a wide smile that nearly takes up his entire face.


I believe that I should make it clear that it is at this point, reader, when Perseus Jackson falls in love with video games.


The second time our hero falls in love is when he is twelve years old. It is, in fact, during his trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art with his Latin class, led by Mr. Brunner.

The entire outing has gone swimmingly so far. There has been not one explosion all day long.

I do not feel the need to inform you that just this fact makes this the best field trip that Percy has been on in a long, long time.

But because nothing can go well for too long in his life, he follows Mrs. Dodds and is surprised (while at the same time isn't really) when she turns into a giant, flying demon.

He admits, though, that this is not a huge step up from pre-algebra teacher.

"What ho, Percy!" Our hero whips around at the sound of Mr. Brunner's voice. The Latin teacher throws a pen across the room, and Percy catches it and watches in awe as it turns into a heavy bronze sword in his hand.

He clutches it tightly, feeling the strong leather grip and the perfected balance of the thing. He sweeps it through the air, thusly turning Mrs. Dodds into a pile of ash and dust.

Whoa.


He does not even know it yet, but it is at that moment, dear reader, that Percy falls in love with that sword, with his sword, Riptide.


The third time that Percy falls in love is just after he has gotten back from his quest to the Sea of Monsters.

He stumbles across the Camp Half-Blood border, exhausted. But more than exhausted, he's hungry. Like, seriously hungry.

Famished.

Craving.

Hollow.

Hankering.

Ravenous.

Starving.


(I could go on forever, reader, to get my point across, but I shall stop at "starving".)


He races up to the dining pavilion and frantically clutches a nymph's arm. "What are we eating for dinner?" he questions breathlessly.

She cocks a haughty eyebrow and shakes him off. "Steak, salad, and mashed potatoes. Now go away!"

"When do we eat?" he calls frantically as she saunters off.

"Half an hour! Now seriously, leave."

He turns slowly (and somewhat mournfully) from the dining hall and walks to his cabin, where he sits on his bunk and

w

a

i

t

s

.


I suppose you might be able to imagine, reader, that this half hour is pure agony. Possibly worse than holding up the sky.

But he doesn't know that yet; he simply knows that he might possibly die before these thirty minutes are up.


The conch horn blows, and he's sitting down at his table with his fork in hand before the satyr even removes the horn from his lips.


That night, reader, under the setting sun, Percy falls in love with steak.

Oh, how he falls.


We've gotten to his last (and perhaps longest) love, now, reader. It won't be long until I've gotten you up to date.

This last love is different. It's not like the others. It confuses him, because he can't quite pin down why it is different. This love feels dissimilar. He doesn't feel this when he grips his PlayStation controller in his hands; when he spars with Riptide by his side; when he bites into a rather delicious-looking piece of steak.

With this love, he feels his head grow warm and his palms grow clammy. His heart begins to speed up and the room begins to spin. Every clever comeback flies out of his head; every witty thought, and he is left with only an awestruck tied-tongue. The world around him slows to a halt, and she is all he sees.


Reader, I supposed you might have guessed this by now:

The last love is Annabeth Chase.

For those of you who didn't guess:

For Hades' sake, keep up.


He's pretty sure that this mess started when Annabeth decided to drop by his cabin after lights out.

"Psst! Seaweed Brain!" He groans and throws back his covers, trudging slowly towards his door. He opens it a crack and yawns.

"Wha—Annabeth, what are you doing here?"

She shrugs and pulls her sweater tighter around herself. "Couldn't sleep." She pauses and takes in his appearance. "Oh, sorry… did I wake you?"

"Um… no."

She smiles. "You're such a bad liar." She looks around and leans in conspiratorially. "Wanna go down to the beach? I know a place where the harpies won't be able to find us."

He blinks back sleep and offers her his best smirk. "Sounds great."


Reader, I'm going to let you in on a little secret: Percy is kind of... nervous, around Annabeth. Well, sort of. It's hard to explain.

After she kissed him, on his birthday, just after the war ended, he'd thought that things would be smooth sailing between them forever and ever, and they lived happily ever after, the end.

Ha ha. Oh, how wrong he was, reader. How wrong.

You see, it's been about three weeks, and she hasn't kissed him since. It's because of this, reader, that he's afraid to kiss her. It's, well…

You'll see.


They sit huddled together against the chilly sea air, in-between a couple of sand dunes, hands clasped together and voices barely above a whisper.

"So," he says conversationally, looking around, "what do we do if the harpies actually end up finding us?"

She sits back and shifts her gaze to the sky, thinking. "…do you think we'd be able to take them?"

He smiles and rests his chin on the top of his knees. "Well…I would." He smirks. "I can take anybody."

If this were before the war, before he went for a swim in the Styx, she would have laughed and made some comment about his steadily growing ego. But it's not before anymore, it's after, and the best she can offer him is a slightly pained smile.


Reader, we both know that Percy isn't exactly the brightest person when it comes to this sort of thing, but we must give him some credit… he knows something's wrong with Annabeth. And he would do something about it, but…

Well, his mind's a little preoccupied at the moment.


Oh, gods, she's really pretty with her hair all messy like that… maybe, if I just kiss her now… maybe… maybe…

Maybe she doesn't like me anymore. What did I do wrong? Was it because of that one time last month with the… oh, gods. That was it. That was it. Now she hates me, and she probably never wants to kiss me again, and that's why she brought me here, so she can officially break up with me, because I'm a terrible, terrible boyfriend…


She licks her lips. "Percy?"


Here it comes.


When it's really he who should be asking it, she forces a smile and asks gently, "What's wrong?"

He clears his throat. "Er… nothing?"

She grins genuinely this time, laughs. "Are you asking me or telling me?"


I don't know I don't know I don't know

Oh, gods, someone help me.

Please please please please someone help me.


Reader, I regret to inform you of a slight spoiler:

Unfortunately, this time, no one comes to Percy's aid.

Sorry.


She shakes her head and sighs heavily. "Percy, I've been meaning to tell you something—"

No, no, no, this is not going to happen. He cuts her off, stumbling over his words in his hurry to get them out, multiple sentences leaving his lips in one large rush of air. "Annabeth, wait, I need to tell you something first, I thought I knew what love was, and I used to just throw around the word like it was nothing, and then I met you and I realized that it's not nothing, it's a very big something, and I didn't know what love was at all until I met you, and, gods, Annabeth, I love you, so, so much, and please don't leave me, okay?" He draws in a large breath when he's finished and waits, waits, waits.


Waiting... waiting... waiting...


"Leave you?"


Wait... what?


He doesn't have time to process her words because all of a sudden, she's leaning forward, and her hands are soft on his neck and her lips are moving slowly over his, and gods, he's forgotten how utterly fantastic it is, kissing Annabeth.

She draws back slightly, and he almost reaches forward for her again, because, frankly, he wasn't done yet.


"I love you too, Seaweed Brain."


Yes.


He kisses her then, and when he closes his eyes, he sees fireworks.