We Didn't Even Break Up [Rewritten] (2022)

One: COMPLETE MESS

Chapter 1.

Percy woke up to the sun in his face. He blinked, trying to take in his surroundings, trying to recreate something—anything—about last night. He wasn't home. He was naked. There was clothing thrown about the room. A black lacy bra hung on a chair and his underwear next to the bed. Definitely not Annabeth's. A chill ran through him; not a product of his barren state.

He slid his legs out from the comforter, searching the room frantically for his boxers.

He had not yet realized there was a person next to him until something in the bed moved.

"Good morning, baby. Last night was fun."

Percy stopped. Slowly, he turned to look at the girl, and felt as if he was going to puke. . Her naked body—at least he thought it was naked, but please God let her not be naked—was covered with the sheets, tangled up between her legs and her breasts, her bare feet sticking out at the end, making her look like she was posing for a magazine. Her short, dark hair was mussed and her half hooded eyes made bile rise in his throat.

He slept with someone. Someone who he wasn't dating, nor in love with, nor did he know her name. Or what they actually did. Someone who wasn't Annabeth.

"Did we uh..." Percy tried to clear his throat, but it sounded more like he was going to be sick. Fitting.

"Fuck?" Her voice was gravelly, still tired. A bit husky, too, and how he hoped that wasn't because she spent all of last night screaming his name.

"Yeah?" He winced.

"I wouldn't mind going again," she chuckled, sitting up and not caring to cover her breasts when the sheet slid down her body.

"I would." Percy turned around frantically, realizing he still hadn't found his goddamn boxers. They had to be here somewhere, hadn't they?

"Why? You're good at it, don't be embarrassed, baby."

"Stop calling me baby. I—I need to get home." His voice cracked on the last word. Just thinking about Annabeth made his heart ache.

He blindly reached for his phone, and found a discarded condom lying on the nightstand, thankful that he at least was smart enough to slip a condom on. Next to that, he found his boxers. His phone was in his pants by the door.

There seemed to be a thousand texts from Annabeth and three from Jason explaining why he never showed. He couldn't care less at that moment why Jason didn't bother to show up, and was more focused on how worried Annabeth must be. God, she'd been all alone all night after he left her—and then he left her to do this?

There were texts from the night before saying things to the effect of 'I'm sorry,' 'come back to bed,' 'I miss you,' I'm sorry,' and he was for sure going to puke. And not just because of his hangover.

"Are you okay?" Percy's eyes darted up to where the girl had sat up.

"My girlfriend is going to kill me."

"You're a dick," she laughed, as she put on his shirt.

"I know." He bit his lip nervously, trying to come up with a way he could ever get Annabeth to forgive him.

Who was he kidding, of course, she would forgive him... right? They'd been through too much for her to just drop him. Right?

There was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," said the girl, sauntering over to the door in nothing but his shirt and a lewd smile.

"It's probably housekeeping, I'll just tell them we need more time, don't move, please." He was near begging her, and frankly, he kind of wanted her to just hop out the window and disappear forever out of his mind and life. He didn't need anybody knowing he had slept with this stranger, nor did he need anybody seeing something and it somehow getting back to Annabeth.