Percabeth One-Shots

Photograph

Hi guys, how are you? Sorry for not updating in so long :(
Here's a photograph, Ed Sheran inspired one-shot ;)

Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes
But it's the only thing that I know

Annabeth didn't know how long she'd been crying for, it was like she'd always been like this, a mess of painfully shed tears, hurting until that was the only feeling she recognized, hurting until the love she once had felt like nothing but a memory.

When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes
It is the only thing makes us feel alive

She cherished the precious moments where she had felt alive, truly alive. She lived so they could happen again, nothing would stop her from getting Percy back. No matter how hard the days were, she would fight for the better ones to come. She didn't want to think about what it would be like to truly lose him. She already lacked a piece of herself...

We keep this love in a photograph
We made these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Hearts are never broken
And time's forever frozen, still

She stared at that picture taped to the wall twenty four hours a day, on an endless loop of desire, craving for him to be back, in the savety of her arms (maybe she wanted him back so she could be in the safety of his arms.)

So you can keep me
Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans
Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet
You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home

"I won't ever leave you, Annabeth." He'd told her once, with that melodic, love-struck voice she adored. "I promis-" He knew promising her wasn't a good idea. "I assured you."
"I think I love you." That's what she wanted to say, but she never did. Oh boy, did she regret it. She wished for nothing more than to be able to hold him once more.
The day she saw him again, she swore on every God that she would never let them take him away from her again, he was the air she breathed, the fresh water she craved for in a deserted island, he was the Percy to her Annabeth.

Loving can heal, loving can mend your soul
And it's the only thing that I know, know
I swear it will get easier
Remember that with every piece of ya
Hmm, and it's the only thing we take with us when we die

"I told you I'd be back." He whispered in her ear, feasting on the breathy giggles that escaped her mouth, cherishing every inch of her skin, worshipping her like a sacred prayer he knew front to back.
"We're going to get married, get jobs, you can't die yet, we're going to have kids, and grandkids. We will die at ninty eight because we're old as fuck. That's it."
She would handle whatever life threw at her as long as they were together.

And if you hurt me
That's okay, baby, only words bleed
Inside these pages, you just hold me
And I won't ever let you go
Wait for me to come home

"Do you know I love you?" She whispered one night, cuddled up against him, feeding on the warmth of his skin.
"I love you too, honey." He told her.
"That wasn't the question." She lifted her body so she could lean her head on her hands, using her elbow as support. "Do I show you that I love you enough?"
"What kind of question is that? Of course you do."
"Good." She swalled nervously. "Because I love you, I would die and I would live for you."
She'd never forget the smile on his face as he listened to her feelings come out of her mouth in an endless babble of love.

Oh, you can fit me
Inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen
Next to your heartbeat where I should be
Keep it deep within your soul

She looked at the necklace he'd given her a year ago. Gods, it felt like forever ago.
"I got you something. I hope you like it." He'd told her nervously.
"I would like anything that came from you. I adore you."
She adored him, she adored the piece of him that sat next to her heart too.

When I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me
Under the lamppost back on Sixth street

She didn't know, but every night, for exactly 243 days and 17 hours, he dreamt of her, of her kisses, so sweet, so perfect for him. He'd fight everything, everyone to have her back. He needed her, he always had.

Hearing you whisper through the phone
"Wait for me to come home"

"I'll be home soon. I love you."
The message wasn't for her, she hadn't heard the phone ring. But the words stayed true as ever. His voice had changed, barely no evidence of the pre-pubscent voice she once heard. She'd love to meet the new him.
She'd wait for him to come home, home to her.