𝐎, 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! ; Percy Jackson

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢

XV;

( The Decay of Heart )

                  IT WAS BUT THE LOOK SHE GAVE PERCY BEFORE CROSSING THE MONKEY BARS THAT MADE HIM REALIZE HOW DEEP HIS FEELINGS WERE. It was in the flutter of her eyelashes, the quiver of her bottom lip before she poked it out in determination, tugging on his heartstrings and wrapping it around her small fingers that were always cold unless they were blistering hot.

              Percy was sure that he had always known, from the second the oceans held in his eyes were wrapped up in hers. She was the moon keeping him in motion, she would blink and he would ebb, soaking the tide along with his brain, she would laugh and he would flow, biting the skin on the inside of his cheek while his mouth would go dry, just taking in her pure, saccharine beauty.

            Deep down inside of him, he knew now that he had somewhat liked Nicoletta at every stage of knowing her. It wasn't until he saw her, dipped in Italian sunlight, pasted into her epidermis with a permanent blush on her cheeks did he begin to feel something in his gut, so similar to the wrenching feeling of kindling a mass of water, but different. He felt warm and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the body, the tangible feeling that was practically Olympus on Earth. That was Nicoletta Rossi.

         He had bruises all over his body. Metaphorical ones too, like on his elbows and knees and shoulders from carrying everyone else's burdens and problems. He has had black eyes, scars, and even the damn streak of pallid strength running from the root of his hair hanging to the edge of his eyelashes. He has the mark underneath Nicolettas' scrunchie, cutting off some of his feeling to his fingers but he didn't care, he wasn't removing it unless she asked. He's had crescent-shaped moons, bloodied and dented into his palms from agitation, too.

         Percy has had all of those psychical marks at least once in his lifetime, but none of them could amount to the abstract feeling of his heart combusting into matter the size of his dilated pupils once he realized he was falling for Nicoletta Rossi.

         It would make sense, she was all he would think about, all the time. He would wonder what she was thinking, too, why her eyes were downcast, why she would sigh under her breath, why whenever he caught her staring she would advert her eyes and pretend not to blush furiously. He thought it was the cutest thing. Well, second. Her big, brown doe eyes of cocoa were first.

       It was her, then Tyson and Grover. She had just made it to the last rung of the monkey bars, toe on the tip of the edge and if she leaned back she would topple into the black abyss below. Before the possibility of falling was even thought of, Percy immediately wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to the dirt path, and closer to his heart.

       Her mouth was open, probably in shock from almost plummeting to her death and from being so close to Percy. He could see the sheer rouge on her skin as he looked down at her. She tried to move her gaze to the side of his head to see how far Celeste and Annabeth were getting but it was no use, she was caught in the net of his sea-green eyes.