𝐓𝐡𝐞 "𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭" 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨

Memories

||~Percy~||
Look, I didn't want to be a Half Blood. The life of a Demigod was never my choice.

In truth, I loathed it. I was constantly hunted by monsters, targeted by gods and goddesses. I faced near death repeatedly from the age of twelve until now.Now, here I am, sitting in my cabin at Camp Half-Blood, staring at Riptide. I think of the countless beings who have died because of me, all in their attempts to protect me.

I press the tip of Riptide against my skin, welcoming the sharp sting. I deserved far worse than a few superficial cuts. I deserved death—the sweet, warm embrace of it.
I—

"Percy?" A voice pulls me from my thoughts. I quickly get dressed, sheathing Riptide and sliding it back into my pocket."Come in!" I call out. Annabeth, my wonderful and amazing girlfriend, steps into the cabin. Her gray eyes light up, and my heart skips a beat at her presence. "Hey, Wise Girl," I greet with a smile.

She returns the smile. "Good morning, Seaweed Brain. Didn't you hear the bell for breakfast?" I shake my head. "I was in the shower," I lie. I hate lying to Annabeth, but sometimes it's necessary.

She raises an eyebrow, suspicion evident. "You aren't wet at all."I roll my eyes. "I dried off quickly. Water powers," I say, giving her a kiss on the head before we leave the cabin together.
||~Annabeth~||
I glance over at Percy, who is seated alone at the Poseidon table. He hasn't touched his food, which is unusual; he usually finishes his meal before anyone else.

Normally, Percy is outgoing and energetic—a morning person through and through. It's unsettling to see him so quiet and withdrawn.He stares blankly at his food, picking at it with his fork. He usually goes crazy for blue pancakes with blue syrup!

"You okay?" Malcom asks, breaking my concentration. I nod in response. "Fine. But, uh, does Percy seem a bit... off to you?" Malcom looks over at Percy and then back at me, nodding slightly. "Yeah, actually. He's been really off ever since you..." He trails off, shuddering. "Fell.""To Tartarus? Yeah, I know," I reply, recalling how Percy controlled Akhlys's blood and poison, drowning her in her own powers. I shake my head, trying to push the memory away. "Maybe he's just having an off day. Everyone has off days, right?" Malcom suggests.
 I nod, "Maybe, yeah."A son of Apollo glances over at us and laughs. "Percy Jackson doesn't have off days. He's, you know, Percy Jackson!" I roll my eyes. "We're all still human. Everyone has off days, even powerful gods like Zeus," I point out."Whatever, lady," he huffs, turning back to his meal.

I look back at Percy, only to find that he and his plate are gone.