Percabeth One Shots

Foot in your Mouth Part 4

Foot in your Mouth Part 4: Final Chapter

Montauk was lovely and worth the drive with pretty white sand, a collection of small houses along the water and children playing on the shore. It was clearly a family-oriented place and the sound of the waves crashing against the sand made Annabeth smile. And then the wind whipped hair into her face.

Looking around she searched for Percy, expecting him to be seated in a tall life-guard chair, wearing swim trunks and sandals with a whistle around his neck. She was slightly disappointed that he was not there. Rather he was more on the ground, standing ankle-deep in the water, wearing cargo pants and a plain blue shirt. Around his wrist was an intricately tangled and woven lanyard with a whistle, clutched in his hand. If he were to let go of the whistle it would most likely just dangle centimetres away from his palm.

Annabeth couldn't resist sneaking up behind him and jumping on his back.

The force of her sudden attack lurched him forward and he fell to the ground. He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes widening in surprise before a wave came. She clutched onto his back and looked up as the ocean passed over her head. With sunlight streaming through the water it looked beautiful. And of course, she got water up her nose.

When the tide receded Percy stood up and Annabeth held on. It almost looked as though she was being given a piggy-back-ride.

And then she felt a sudden thumping on her back.

Annabeth turned her head to see small children surrounding them, one of which was trying to attack her.

"Let go of him!" shouted the young one, pounding harder.

Percy bent down slightly for Annabeth to get off of him and shook his head at the little kid. "Guys, this is Annabeth," said Percy, gesturing towards her.

"Perry, is she your girlfriend?" asked one of the girls innocently.

"Well, actually, yes," Percy said, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

The girls started giggling and the boys pretended to choke on their fingers.

Annabeth looked at Percy, giggling. "Did one of them just call you Perry?"

"It's not the worst name they've called me, some of them are below the age of three," Percy said. "I don't know what's so complicated, I think they do it on purpose."

"I highly doubt that."

Percy pouted and it was adorable. "They can say Presley and parsley, I think they're pulling my leg by calling me Peter," said Percy, rolling his eyes.

Annabeth swung her arms next to her side, unsure of what to say next. Percy was easy to talk to, that was sure, and you could always guarantee you weren't the biggest fool in the area as long as you were next to him, which Annabeth found nice, especially since Percy just kind of went with it, but now she didn't know what to do. She was uncertain of her next words, kind of anxious and her heart sped up in a good way.

She wanted to hold his hand. It really did feel like middle school, suddenly all flustered over something as simple as skin on skin contact, but she really wanted to hold his hand. It looked firm and stable, and actually, really, really sweaty—

"Are you nervous?"

"What?" Percy's voice raised an octave. "What are you talking about? Nervous? Me? No way!" He bit the inside of his cheek and his face turned red. "What gave you that idea?"

Annabeth laughed. He really was too cute. Part of her thought he was an overgrown child, while another thought of him as thirteen year old who was experiencing puberty for the first time.