#starlinks

“Come dance with me.” Annabeth reaches her hand out, stretching her fingers towards him from across he room.

There’s a nameless melody flowing out of the radio, one Percy can’t pin down exactly. But he knows Annabeth likes it; and it’s soft, and slow, but still:

“What?”

“Don’t make me ask twice, Seaweed Brain, just get over here.” Her laughter lights up the room, resounding off the walls. It’s the first time he’s seen her smile since — since a long time. Since before.

So he does — he steps closer, and his hands find her waist. He’s not sure why it feels awkward; his hands know her waist like the back of his own hand. Then, she pulls him closer, tighter; her arms wrapped around his back in a hug, until there’s no space between them. And she sways, back and forth. Slow, not to the pace of the song: their own rhythm. And it’s like coming home. She looks so beautiful up this close, when he can see the subtle freckles dotting her face, her weary eyes, the deep set circles underneath showing just how tired and scarred she is — and still, just as beautiful as she’s ever been, if not more, for all the fight she’s put up to be here.

welcome back! 

Whether it’s the wind, or the rain, or the haunting sense that somethings just not right, Annabeth stirs. Before she can process; before her eyes even open, she knows. She reaches her hand behind her, fumbling in the blankets for a ghost that’s long gone. Turning over, she runs her hand across the empty side of the bed, fingernails catching on the stitching of the bedsheets.

She almost doesn’t want to look. But the other side of the door beckons, and she peeks past. He’s shrouded in darkness, only lit up by the glow of the city through the windows behind him. “Hey,” she says, quiet enough not to startle him. “Storm wake you up?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.” She extends her hand towards him. “Come back to bed?”