The campfire flickered against the encroaching darkness, casting long shadows on the trees surrounding the clearing. The night was warm, the air thick with the scent of pine and the distant sound of a night owl hooting. Annabeth and Piper sat at the edge of the firelight, their legs crossed on the grass, each lost in their own thoughts.
It had been a few days since their conversation by the lake, and things between them had subtly shifted. There was an unspoken understanding now, a quiet closeness. They shared meals, whispered jokes, and spent countless hours talking about everything from the mundane to the existential. But despite their growing connection, there was still a lingering tension, a question neither of them had quite found the courage to ask.
Piper was the first to break the silence. "Do you ever feel like... like we're just pretending things are okay when everything is falling apart?"
Annabeth turned to look at her, surprised by the depth of Piper's words. It was unlike her to speak with such openness, but there was a vulnerability in her voice that made Annabeth's chest tighten.
"I do," Annabeth said softly. "It feels like we're always waiting for the next storm, like nothing is ever really calm."
Piper nodded, her fingers absently twisting a small twig in her hand. "I don't know if it's the monster attacks or the gods or just the weight of everything we've had to carry... but sometimes, I wonder if we're really allowed to just be. Like, if I'm always meant to be this warrior or this daughter of Aphrodite, but not just Piper."
Annabeth's heart ached. She had felt the same way countless times. The pressure of being the daughter of Athena, the expectations of her intelligence, her courage, her leadership—it was suffocating at times.
"I think," Annabeth said slowly, her gaze distant as she looked into the fire, "we forget that we're allowed to be more than just what people expect us to be. We're allowed to take a break. To not have it all figured out."
Piper's eyes softened as she turned to face Annabeth. "I think I'm starting to realize that. It's just... hard, sometimes. With everything going on, I feel like I have to be perfect all the time."
Annabeth leaned closer, her hand brushing Piper's. "I don't think you have to be perfect. And I don't think you have to carry all of this on your own, either."
Piper's breath hitched at the touch, and she looked at Annabeth, her expression a mix of relief and something else—something deeper. There was a connection between them now, something neither of them had ever expected. Something that didn't require them to be anything but themselves.
Piper smiled softly, her fingers brushing against Annabeth's palm in a slow, deliberate motion. "Thanks, Annabeth. I really needed to hear that."
Annabeth smiled back, her heart pounding in her chest. "Anytime."
As the fire crackled between them, a moment of silence settled, and for once, it was peaceful. No monsters, no gods, no looming quests—just the two of them, in this space they had carved out together, where they didn't have to be anything but who they were.
