Annabeth stood in front of a mirror. She ran her fingers through her wavy blonde hair, stopping at the piece of gray that stuck out so much in the light of the rest of her hair.
A painful reminder. It hurt just to think about it; no, actually, it hurt more to think about the person who saved her from it. Perseus Jackson, Hero of Olympus, son of Poseidon, slayer of Medusa, the bane of the titans, her ex-boyfriend.
They weren't as close as they used to be. Nowhere near it. They were far apart, drifting ever so far away from each other. Just a few days ago, they had broken up, and Annabeth cringed whenever he was brought up.
But they'd conversed yesterday, as serious as they ever had been. The problem; Percy lost his invulnerability. He was sparring with Clarisse when she stabbed at his arm, and it had cut deep. He had a long scar running up his arm – not that Annabeth let her eyes follow up his arm to his broad shoulders…
It hadn't taken him long to figure out it was because he was no longer with her. They talked, but hadn't decided to get back together. Annabeth and Percy both agreed it most likely was the best decision, for the gods (Poseidon and Athena's war would've been inevitable) and for themselves.
Something was wrong with the strands of gray, though. She touched it, but her hands fell through. She frowned. She tried to pick up a strand; her fingers couldn't even grab it. She grabbed a band to hold her hair back; the gray hair didn't even move.
Annabeth was frustrated, to say the least. Why couldn't she hold her gray hairs? Suddenly, it hit her like a brick. Her gray hairs were connected to Percy (and Luke, but he wasn't alive), so they must not like it when she wasn't… with him.
She scowled but desperation engulfed her. She was entirely in love with Percy Jackson, and she need one last kiss from the boy – man – she loved.
She crashed through the bathroom door and barreled toward the Poseidon cabin. She knocked incessantly until Percy opened the door.
When he opened the door, Annabeth stopped a few seconds to stare at him. He looked absolutely miserable. He had bags under his eyes, his hair was unkempt, and his sea-green eyes (oh, his so gorgeous green eyes) were dull and didn't look the regular color.
When she leaned forward and crashed her lips against his, a jolt was sent through her spine, like Thalia had shocked her (not that that had happened before). His (gorgeous) eyes were back, first fired with surprise, but then ecstasy and love.
She reached up to touch her hair and smiled; she could feel the gray strands and could run her hands through them. Her smile must've been contagious, because Percy smiled down at her and left their foreheads touching ever so slightly.
So, maybe it wasn't going to be their last kiss after all.