The Meanings of I Love You

Chapter 6

So this is a short little thing in which Annabeth never regained her sight after Tartarus

The metal handle was cool in her grasp. She felt its chill crawling its way millimeter by millimeter into her fingers and down her palm.

Tears were brimming in her eyes, almost at the brink of falling down. She would not let them fall. She would not give them the satisfaction. She would not feel their salty warmth roll down in streams on her cheeks. Besides, it would only be her fault if they did.

Why was she doing this to herself anyways? Why did she bring this kind of torture on herself? It's not like anything would ever change. She'd be blind for the rest of her life and that was an irreversible fact.

She brushed her fingertips over the glass, tenderly feeling the mirror as if it were a precious diamond. The comforter sunk in where she sat on their bed. Honestly, Percy could walk in at any second and see her like this. See her so weak. She knew that if he saw her like this he'd just try to make it better, but maybe that's what she wanted anyways.

Annabeth thought she was staring at the mirror, hoping so desperately that she was. She sent the inanimate object one of her death glares and was slightly disappointed to not feel it wither and shrink in her hands. She wanted to make it feel the pain she felt.

She adjusted to being blind fairly quickly, her hearing improved and she could still wield her dagger like no other, but at times like these being sightless just got to her. She wanted to know what she looked like, what her friends looked like. She wanted to see if she had any new scars and if one year had aged her any. All she would ever know now was what she looked like at 17. She'd never know how she would look in her 30s or how gray her hair would get at 80. She never even realized what a gift sight was and she wished she just hadn't been born with it at all. At least that was her thought process- you can't miss something if you never had it.

Annabeth didn't even realize she was crying until a tear splashed on her hands.

"Annabeth?" A hoarse whisper came from the doorway.

She jumped a little and threw the mirror quickly to the other side of the bed. She brushed away any tears that could have been there. She cursed herself for getting distracted and not taking care to hear if Percy was coming.

"Oh. Hi, Percy." Annabeth tried her best to act casual and not allow her voice to sound as watery as she thought it did.

Percy's footsteps creaked on the wooden floorboards making their way towards the blond. Calloused hands gripped Annabeth's equally cracked ones.

"What were you doing?" His voice was laced with so much concern and so much love it almost hurt to hear it.

She took a deep shaky breath. Silence expanded out between the two, draping itself all around the cozy bedroom.

A few more seconds ticked by in agony.

"Can I ask you something." Her voice sounded raw like she hadn't spoken a word in years or as if she'd been screaming in a sandy desert.

"Yea, of course." Percy's voice was soft so,so soft. He was leaning in close to Annabeth eyeing the mirror in the side of his view. His breath tickled her skin with the lightness of a feather.

"Will you describe what I look like?" Annabeth could feel herself cringing as she asked that. It felt so pathetic, she had adjusted to being blind and had even accepted it. Yet here she was still having moments of vulnerability.

Percy let out a hot breath before continuing. He never saw Annabeth as weak, not even once. He wished her pride would stop stopping her from realizing her strength and realize it was okay to show a little weakness. Having weakness didn't mean that one wasn't strong, it meant they were human.

"Well your hair is a bit shorter and you haven't brushed it in a few days." Annabeth's cheeks grew a little warm at that, but Percy quickly added on "But I like it like that. And it still makes you look like a princess and I have to restrict myself from playing with your blonde curls."

Annabeth laughed at that. Percy hardly restricted himself, nine times out of ten his fingers were woven in a lock of her hair.

"And, gods, your beautiful." He rested his forehead against hers and she crawled into his lap.

"Yea?" She gulped a little.

"More beautiful than Aphrodite." His finger traced the bottom of her lip.

"Careful what yous say there."

"It's only the truth."

"Thank you." She whispered. She meant it so much. More than he'd know.

Maybe it was a little hard at this moment, but she'd be okay. Sight or no sight Annabeth was fine. With Percy right next to her she didn't need a mirror to torture herself. She didn't need to see herself when she was loved like this