The Blonde and the Bootlegger: A Percy Jackson story

Half Blood Cove

Annabeth P.O.V

I had been asking my parents for the old fisherman's cottage near Half-Blood Cove. It was a little shack made of faded grayish wood shingles and would need a number of repairs.

The roof needed to be patched up in several places, the chimney would have to be completely rebuilt, and first I would have clean out decades of dust and debris but I could see that the place had potential.
Half-Blood Cove was part of my parents' property and was one of my favorite places in the world. A dirt path lead from the Parthenon and down through hills dotted with wild blueberry bushes and strawberry patches, and pine trees to the cove, a crescent-shaped stretch of gritty beige sand and seaweed covered grey and black rocks.

Percy and I used to play there when we were kids. When we went swimming, he always got seaweed in his hair, which is why I called him "Seaweed Brain."
After weeks of asking, I finally persuaded my parents to give me the use of the old fisherman's cottage. I walked down to survey my new domain to see what improvements needed to be done.
The cottage was on the hill which looked over Half-Blood Cove. There was a small room with large windows off of the front of the main house. It would be perfect for an office; I could imagine a drafting table right in front of the central window and a desk piled with blueprints and architecture books.
I wrote down drafting table and desk in my notebook, underneath patch roof and rebuild chimney.
Everything inside the house was covered in a thick carpet or sheet of dust, mold, and mildew. Great cobwebs attested to the fact that the place was probably a city of spiders. The entire place needed to be swept, dusted, and scrubbed thoroughly. I tried not to get my white, floral print sundress dirty.