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IT'S A FRIDAY NIGHT IN SEPTEMBER and by virtue of it being a Friday night Annabeth is at Percy's place, and by virtue of it being September, they're alone in his room. It's sticky hot and the air conditioning unit in his window is wheezing in a futile attempt to cool the ancient building.
Percy's eyes are half-closed but one of his hands absentmindedly twirls the strands of her hair that came loose from her messy bun, the other is immobilized underneath her, but keeping her close. She's not sure why this moment feels so breakable to her, she's seen him asleep dozens of times as she kept watch on quests. She knows his stillness and the way his breaths come. She knows how he looks between when his eyes open and he remembers where he is. Based on those facts alone, watching Percy sleep shouldn't be quite this special. Maybe it's because she's never witnessed it from where she is now: falling asleep herself, her head on his chest, his war-calloused fingers touching her in such a casual and tender way.
They had initially at least had the pretense of watching a movie on his laptop, but it ended hours ago. Then the laptop had been shut and lost in the floor in the interest of other pursuits, like tasting each others lips over and over again. Percy is the only person Annabeth has ever kissed, and it's still something that she hasn't gotten used to. Part of him is still so hesitant, like he's afraid that suddenly Annabeth will stop wanting to kiss him. It's an impossible thought to her, but it keeps her with an incentive to remind him how she feels: constantly taking his hand, pulling him closer, kissing him hello, kissing him every time he smiles at her and it makes her feel like there's sunshine inside her chest.
The clock on the nightstand says 1:12 am. She's certain that Percy's parents are asleep by now. The only sounds aside from the asthmatic air conditioner are distant cars in the street five floors below, and the muffled vague voices of a neighbor's late night TV playing. That, and their own breathing. The stillness of it all is mesmerizing, the feeling that they are the only two people in the world, the rest is just background noise.
One of her hands rests idly on his stomach. She hadn't really meant to spend the night. The sensible part of her thinks she should find it in herself to pull away from him and grab her purse and her shoes and tiptoe out. She thinks vaguely about the homework she has to do over the weekend, but it feels like someone else's school, someone else's classes. Someone else can do all that. Annabeth just wants to keep laying here. She's also keenly aware that she wasn't invited to spend the night, she doesn't want to impose on the Jackson's Saturday. And, as welcoming as Sally is, she's not sure she wants to push her boundaries, or see her awkwardly in the morning and have Sally assume things. 'We just fell asleep' sounds lame, even to Annabeth, even if it's the truth. Under other circumstances it wouldn't matter what her new boyfriend's mom thinks of her, but she respects Sally, and she wants her to like her. She wants to prove that she's...what? Responsible? A good girlfriend? Not a bad influence? Annabeth is used to wanting approval from adults and authority figures and not getting it. She wants Sally to be different, to like her.
She closes her eyes and steels herself, allowing herself one last indulgent minute of being held, then slowly sits up. She sees her bag and her shoes in the doorway. Percy's arm is still loosely around her waist. It's time to go, Annabeth, she chides herself. She leans down and presses a kiss to Percy's temple, because she can, then stands up and steps across the room. She has one of her shoes on when—
"Annabeth?" Percy's focus is still soft, barely awake.
"I didn't mean to wake you," she whispers.
"Are you leaving?" He sits up, feet dragging the blanket to the floor.
"Yeah, it's late. I should get back."
"Stay," he whispers, "You shouldn't walk back this late."
She walks back over to the bed. He loops his arms around her waist, she rests her hands on his shoulders. Wanting nearly eats her alive. The concept of staying, of eating breakfast, of spending a lazy Saturday here, she savors the idea like something she's not allowed to have.
Percy, still drowsy, rests his head on her chest. "Please stay."
"What about your mom?" she asks, still grasping at her quickly retreating sensibility.
"She won't mind," he promises. "I'll just tell her it was too late for you to go back. She would kill me if I let you walk home in the middle of the night."
In the darkness of the room she's once again struck with the feeling that they are the last two people in the world. There's no reason to leave, there's nothing outside to go to. The universe is contained within these brick and plaster walls, in the shrinking space between them and their shared breaths.
"Please," he says, again.
She tilts his head up, hands in his hair, and kisses him again. "Ok," she says, smiling against his skin.
They both fit in his bed but only just, they're both on their sides, facing each other, hands idly linked between them.
They're both used to always being on guard, expecting an attack at any second. It seems impossible now though, Annabeth feels safe. She feels too tired to do much more than lay still and breathe, her eyelids flickering closed. Percy reaches up and brushes a finger across her forehead.
"What?" she asks.
He just shakes his head, smiling.
She pokes him with her free hand, grinning, "What is it? Tell me."
They're both quietly laughing, now, poking each other.
"Tell me."
His face turns suddenly, like he's serious, or self conscious. His eyes flicker away, then back to hers. He's inches away, she doesn't so much hear his breathing hitch as feel it. She can feel his heartbeat.
"What's wrong?" She furrows her brow, now worried.
He brings her hand to his mouth, presses a kiss to her knuckles. "Nothing," he says. "I'm just lucky."
She feels it again. The sunshine in her chest. She feels lightweight. Annabeth isn't a lucky person. She had never experienced good luck, and had been forced out of her father's house because even as a child she brought quite the opposite.
She feels lucky to be with Percy. Somehow it's still strange for her to believe anyone would feel that way about her, even Percy. But he's here and he does. She's too tired to try to match his words, she just nestles her head on his shoulder and lets her eyes close, like this is something she might be able to keep.
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chapter title from 'no te vayas' by camilo. (roughly translates: i'm used to missing you but i want you next to me)
