Percy.
She lay dying in his arms, her face contorted in a gasping look, tears streaming down her cheeks, to drip off onto the ground. These were the moments that no one except Percy would remember.
Her blonde curls spread in a fan around her head, as he cradles her weak, shuddering body. Hot, thick liquid spills from her wound, and he can't bare to look at it, so instead he presses his forehead to hers to tell her that everything will be okay.
She gulped down sobs, her breaths coming in uneven patterns.
Annabeth could barely form a coherent sentence, her body too exhaused to even make an attempt to save her, but she manages, her voice soft, and weak, with sobs making her shiver.
"Kiss it all better," she cries, pleading. "I'm not ready to go..."
--
Y'all take this :)
-Danni
