Alternatively

Albatross

There was sand up his ass.

If there was anything to prevent him from coming ashore, it would be the amount of sand that managed to find it's way into every crevice. But, of course, he could handle the discomfort in favor of meeting her. The entire coast line could be dumped into his pants and he wouldn't care as long as he got to talk to her. Plus, if he was being honest, the pants usually came off too quickly to be a bother.

And so he sat, watching the water lap on the beach in an attempt to stay patient. He was waiting in the dark, as he always does once a month. Stars glittered in the sky and he had begun to notice how even though the moon was always so bright, the stars sparkled more definitely in it's presence than without. It was relatable, really. He felt just like those stars.

Somewhere down the beach, a group of kids horsed around, laughing and yelling in the night. Percy didn't have it in him to get mad; he did remember what it was like to be human, after all. It wasn't that he missed it, puberty had been hell. Still, it had been awhile since laughing so hard it hurt or getting drunk off his ass and running to the ocean.  Also, being able to freely see, talk, meet, and touch her had been a liberty he had taken for granted. He curled his fists in the sand, jaw clenching. Boy, had things seriously gone awry.

It was high tide, though not quite as strong as when they worked together. They always were better together.

A shiver ran across his skin and he snapped his head to look at her, far away and radiant in her utter thereness. She walked across the beach at a controlled pace, blonde hair glowing like a beacon and skin bright enough to cast a circle of light. His gut tugged hard as he stood, want and longing threading every fiber of his being. She felt it too, for the pace she tried maintaining was quickly broken and sent her running to him. She crashed into his arms and knocked him back, lips smashing against his and hands tangling in his hair. He let out an audible oof, back connecting quite hard with the sand, and she laughed against his mouth.

"Good evening," he murmured in between kisses.

She hummed, pulling back to stare him in the eyes. "You didn't write."

Sighing, he scooted to sit them both up. "I did...nothing sounded right."

"Coulda said hello at the very least," she grumbled, letting him steal one last kiss before removing herself from his lap.

Her hand never quite left his, though.

"Hello."

She snorted, lolling her head to him. "Hey. What's new?"

"Spring Break," he groaned. "Beaches have been utterly trashed this year and everything's been bogged down. You?"

"About the same as usual."

"So...nothing?"

She pursed her lips, burrowing her feet in the sand. Percy winced sympathetically; she never could stand to be stagnant. He brushed a glowing curl behind her ear, noting how she leaned into his touch.

A month was utterly too long to be apart and a night was too short of a time to be together.

He frowned, looking out to the dark sea before them. Years had passed, decades, even. As much as the second chance had been presented as a blessing, it truly felt like a curse. More and more, he was convinced the fates were toying with them, testing and playing. A part of him wished they had both died that day, wished they wouldn't have to deal with the torture of waiting to wait for what seemed to be forever.

"There's a festival coming up in Ghana," she said. "Celebration of the New Moon. I think it's close to the shore."

He remembered the last time he tried straying too far from the water and suppressed a shudder. "I'm sure I can make it."

"Don't push yourself to do it, but I thought...it'd be fun. I know there'll be music and food and dancing and-"

"Annabeth," he chuckled, rubbing his thumb in circles on her hand. "I said I'll go. Though you know I worship the new moon every month anyway."

Her smile was sly, eyes giving him a once over. "A mighty sea spirit would never."

"Oh, but he does," he tugged her back into his lap and grinning as her legs wrapped around his waist. "The sea would bow before the moon if she asked."

"She wouldn't need to ask," she muttered, trailing her fingers over his lips.

As always, she was right. Their kiss was slow and deep, his hands wandering and praising every curve of her body. When they were kids, everything had been fast and frantic, trying to figure out as much about each other as they could. The same passion remained, but he'd like to think it aged like a fine wine. They certainly had plenty of time to practice.

The waves pounded against the shore, the rolling and crashing in sync with his heart. Annabeth's hand pressed over his chest and when they pulled the slightest bit apart, he could feel her breath against his skin matching rhythm with the sea.

"I forget..."

He stared up at her, her eyes downcast.

"I forget what street we lived on."

"Cornerstone-Hillview Boulevard," he replied immediately.

Her nod was minuscule. "Oh. Right."

Their school had been two blocks down and there was a park not too far from either of their houses, the one where he broke his arm by falling off the swings and the one where she had clumsily kissed him for the first time. It was always golden, the sun hovering just above the horizon in all the important memories.

The ones she was slowly forgetting.

"You threw a rock through my window."

He laughed. "I underestimated how hard I threw it."

"My step mom...was so pissed," she grinned, looking to the sky. "I thought she was going to kill you."

"So did I."

Neither of them knew just how long they were going to be stuck there, stuck waiting.

The group of kids had moved closer and he felt the splash of a bottle getting thrown into the waves. Annabeth smoothed the crease that had formed between his eyebrows with her thumb and he decided he'd get around to cleaning later. There were only so many hours in a night.

"Did you see the gift I sent you?"

Her sigh was instantaneous. "You know I hate starfish."

"Ah, but it was a sun star," he corrected. "Forty arms, really cool."

"Really cool," she mimicked in a whiny voice. "Send me more shells, I like shells. They don't squirm."

"I always send you shells, I want to send you special things."

Her eyes were soft. "Only one thing could make me the happiest."

He didn't know how long it had been exactly since they were changed, he only kept track of the days between moons. He didn't know if or when they were going to be released. He didn't know if she regretted anything that led up to the cosmic shift of power. All he knew was how to make sure she knew exactly how much he loved her.

They both felt the sun before the sky had a chance to lighten and he let his arms drop when she pulled away.

A month was too long and a night was too short.

He always tried to keep her in his sights for as long as possible, no matter the beach or the meeting. He refused to blink, watching her glowing form leave him, but somehow, he always missed the moment she disappeared.

The first rays of sun spilled over the sea.

He called for a messenger and sent him into the morning with only one word written on the paper.