mr. perfectly fine; percy jackson¹

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

PERCY LETS OUT a breath, grabbing onto the arm rests of the chair. his body is shaking violently, and he almost collapses before he catches himself by grabbing the side of the table. he has never felt so sick.

his stomach churns, and he feels like he is being torn apart. the small office makes percy feel claustrophobic. he grapples with the walls, painted pastel blue. her favorite shade of blue. percy stumbles before he can reach the doorknob. 

sweat trickles down his forehead. he is lost. why can't he get up? percy leans his tired back against the wall, peering out the big window across the room. it is raining outside. nobody can be seen in the streets as rain pours down on the streets of new york city.

he has never felt so alone.

percy doubts anyone else is in the building, as it's already past dismissal and it's friday. everyone goes home to their families on friday. when was the last time he felt like he had family? he felt like he was safe?

the world suddenly seemed enormous — too big for percy's liking. he forces himself up from the ground and blindly walks back to his desk. he collapses on the chair. he wants to escape it all. he secretly wishes he hadn't survived the war, so it would've been her who was alive. 

there's so much about everyone percy doesn't know, and as much as he hates to admit it, not knowing everything annoys him. he misses her. percy wishes he hadn't told on her. 

the rain keeps falling, creating a soft tap sound whenever the raindrops touched the ground. percy closes his eyes and laughs. he wants to scream so badly; he wants to let it all out. tears flow out of his eyes like rain, and combined with his scoffing, sounds like a thunderstorm.

percy covers his face with his hands. he doesn't want to see the real world. the urge to let out a shout almost overtakes him, but he swallows the feeling down. he turns back to the box, and the fifteen letters on his desk. 

the mahogany box is smooth, with a few patterns etched as a border. there is nothing else on it, except a light purple sticky note with percy jackson written in neat letters. percy remembers that handwriting. 

a latch is on the box, which percy fiddles with as he thinks. he doesn't want to give the letters to drew. percy doesn't want anyone to know what  he did. but he remembers serena's threat. percy knows he cannot hide from her forever. they will always have a special connection.

he glances at the blue telephone on his desk, itching to be picked up. percy reaches for the phone and dials camp half-blood. he doesn't expect anyone to pick up —he doesn't want anyone to pick up. but he hears a beep and someone say "hello?"

the voice is so familiar. percy knows that voice. his words are caught in his throat as his mind races. he screams at his brain to just say something, but nothing comes out of his mouth. his hand shakes, and he almost drops the phone.

"c-c-can i talk to um, drew?" percy manages to squeak out. the person on the other side is confused.

"drew? as in drew tanaka?" the voice questions. percy's heart sinks when he hears the tone of the other person's voice. what had happened to drew?

percy traces the patterns on the box. "is she there?" he asks with his newfound confidence.

"we haven't seen her for a while. she moved," the voice replies. percy knows the person is tugging at the telephone cord, ecstatic to hang up the phone. so he doesn't say anything else, except thank you and goodbye.

when percy hangs up, he feels hot. not hot as in attractive, but hot as in his body feels too warm and he feels so uncomfortable with himself.

percy decides he will find drew later. he carefully places each letter back into the box, in order so the one at the top is letter one and the one at the bottom is letter fifteen. he closes the box and secures the hatch. percy walks over to the coat rack, still stumbling a little, but much less than before. 

the coat rack has one coat. one, singular coat that makes percy feel even more alone (if that's even possible at this point). the coat is navy blue, and definitely not waterproof. percy sighs, but slips on the coat nonetheless. 

thankfully, he remembered to bring an umbrella. with the umbrella handle hung around his arm, percy walks out of his office. the whole building is painted all shades of blue, with paintings of sea creatures. percy waves goodbye to the clownfish. he always waves goodbye to the clownfish. 

the elevator is much faster than the stairs, but percy doesn't want to relive his experience in the doors of death. besides, he needs more time to clear his mind. percy strolls down the stairs, going down each step one by one. he doesn't skip any steps like he sometimes would.

counting the steps makes percy more relaxed. he reaches the ground floor and loses count of the number of stairs, but shrugs it off even though it bothers him so much. 

losing count is like losing control.

he has lost control of himself.

no one is at the front desk. he braces himself for the rain before pushing open the door. the obnoxious sound of rain is all around him. he opens his umbrella and rushes down the street, the box under his left arm.

she's left handed.

everything is connected to her. percy can't stop himself from thinking about her.

his shoes are soaking wet by the time he reaches his apartment. he takes the stairs again, and loses count of the stairs again. he is losing himself so quickly. he doesn't feel the same anymore. he feels like a different person. a different percy.

percy sits down at his counter, watching the clock tick. he remembers how much time he has. time is limited, and he is wasting it. his eyes wander back to the box. the letters are everything serena didn't get to say.

the letters are all her emotions. 

percy wants to tell someone how he feels. but he's so detached from the real world that he has no one to talk to. maybe he should write letters. maybe he should write to her.

maybe writing down his thoughts can erase them.

maybe he can start fresh.

maybe he can become a new, better percy.