"I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things." —Augustus Waters, The Fault in Our Stars

It takes a while for Percy to finally realize that there's really no point in keeping secrets from Annabeth anymore.

(It takes a while for him to realize most things, actually, but that's beside the point.)

He doesn't know when the precise moment came when words became a futile and clumsy form of communication between them, although he thinks he has a pretty good idea.

It's the most vivid memory he can recall: stumbling through the Doors of Death with a horde of angry monsters closing in, feeling Annabeth's grip tighten on his wrist and turning around to see the unspoken message in her eyes: Leave it. We've done our part; now the others can do theirs.

They'd collapsed into each others' arms as the rest of the Seven took down the rest of the monsters without breaking a sweat. And that had been the end of that.

Ever since then, Percy's noticed the looks Annabeth periodically gives him out of the corner of her eye. He reciprocates these glances, each one meaning something a little different—how are you feeling, do you need anything, you look beautiful today—and so on.

Truthfully, he doesn't understand how they can do this so easily; it's like the bond they share is too powerful for him to comprehend. And when he looks over and sees her staring at him with that adorable look on her face that she gets when she's puzzled, he knows that it confuses her too.

But maybe the two of them have underestimated how powerful a touch or a look can be. And maybe, Percy thinks, this newfound connection isn't something for Annabeth to try to dissect and piece together. It's not for him to fight against until things go back to the way they were, because he doesn't want that to happen—their time in Tartarus has changed them both in ways that he cannot explain.

The reason it's pointless trying to keep secrets from Annabeth now is that they've become one person in two bodies; two parts of the same whole. One cannot function without the other.

And Percy, who likes to take Annabeth out to the deck in the light of the setting sun and teach her how to dance, who lets her stand on his feet so he can show her the steps, who knows that the reason Annabeth rests her head on his chest so frequently is to listen to the steady drumbeat of his heart thumping iloveyou, iloveyou, iloveyou—well, Percy thinks that it's a beautiful thing.


I've been working on this massive oneshot for Percy's birthday, which I believe I've already told you guys about, and it's slowly killing me. It's about 8,000 words and not even close to completion, so basically I've been on the verge of stabbing something in anger for the last month.

But I digress. Did you guys like my attempt at some poetic Percabeth? :)

Baby Got Back might be updated within this week, so make sure to check that out!

Thanks for sticking around, lovelies!