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𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔
┏━━━━ ★ ━━━━┓ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓬𝔂 𝓙 ┗━━━━ ★ ━━━━┛
Percy walked into the infirmary and saw Chris Rodriguez, unmoving on a cot. He walked in a little more, and sat Anastasia, sitting on a counter with someone he thinks is one of the Strolls, a canvas in front of the both of them. They looked too comfortable with one another. He heard them mumbling before Anastasia sat up and away from—who he assumes is, Connor. He gave her a kiss on the top of her head and slid off.
When he turned, he froze for a second and grinned, "Percy? You're alive! Ha, I knew it—ow!"
Anastasia turned and smacked him over the head. Percy made eye contact with her, and he hadn't realized how much he actually missed her.
"Hey, Ana."
"Glad you're alive," Anastasia said in a blank tone before turning back to her painting.
"That's it?" Percy said blankly. "Glad you're alive?"
"I'm sorry, should I say I hoped you died?"
Percy looked at the back of her head, offended.
"I don't know what stick is suddenly up her ass," Connor said in a posh tone. "But good luck."
"Connor Strolls."
"Okay! Okay! Geez. Love you too, Sia."
She flipped him off without looking at him. Connor kept his grin and walked towards Percy, "Good luck." Then walked out.
There was just silence. At least Annabeth was upset and mad at him. And was at his funeral. Anastasia was just silent as she painted a house.
"You're not going to say anything?"
"You really want me to say something?"
"Yes!" Percy exclaimed. "Anything except being silent. I didn't think you'd be jumping with joy that I wasn't dead but—"
"How's the Titan?" Percy froze. "I'm sorry, it's Titaness, right?"
