Percabeth One-shots

Come and Annoy Me (Sequel)

Hey! It's been a very long time since I've written on this, and I really have been getting a lot of positive feedback from the "Come and Annoy Me" story I did earlier in this book. And that was so long ago that I felt that I could better it now and elaborate the ending. So here it goes. (This is based on the song "To Build a Home".

     There is a house built out of stone. A foundation of love and loneliness. Fond memories imbedded in all the walls and sitting on the windowsills. This was her home. She came here as often as she could, so often that she didn't feel alone here. She scans her eyes over Percy's house. She sees the tables and chairs already worn by the dust. She sits at the designated spot she had at the family table and stares at his spot. But she realizes that this place wasn't home, it is Percy himself. He built a home for her, for himself too, at least until he disappeared, forever. She goes back.
          That one week, before he was gone, she stayed over every night and day. She would help him up, sitting him down, picking things up. He hated feeling so useless. Every tear that fell from his face had left impacts on her skin and in her head like she could have helped more but didn't know how. That week, she stayed night and day watching his determination disappear from him. That week, she saw the final, crumbling moments of Percy Jackson. His moments of her holding him as tightly as he held on to her. Until the grip grew weaker and weaker, until slack.
          It was like he slowly turned into the dust that currently covered everything in the house, which is fitting because everything she looks at reminds her of him. Hell, she even feels covered in it as well. She gets up and walks outside. She watches as the sun goes down, leaving the street in a golden haze. He would have loved this. All was quiet and a warm breeze filled the air. For once, something felt alright. She felt alright.
        There is a house built out of stone. Dust covering everything, including the memories withheld in it. Emotions sitting on the windowsills, waves of feeling crashing against the walls, splashing at her heart. He might be in the ground, but he doesn't live there, he lives here, in her heart. This is closure. Love, life, and sanctity is this house.

This is how to build a home.