Spotlight - A Percabeth Fanfiction

10

Percy's POV:

I watched as Annabeth walked on my side. It was dangerous for two celebrities in a huge ship scandal to be walking next to each other in broad daylight, but this part of the street was rather empty and we had our disguises on. 

"I'm so sorry if I'm disturbing you." she apologized, completely genuine. I got flustered and hoped that she didn't notice how much I looked like a red Tonka truck. "No, it's fine! I'm actually free today. I met up with Rachel, and we finished earlier than expected." 

That was sort of a lie. I told Rachel that I was busy and had to do something and excused me. If I didn't, I might have been stuck there for a week and a half.  She caught me staring and the corners of her lips quirked up.

"You're actually quite nicer than I expected. A lot nicer than I expected." She notified me, smirking. I was about to reply when she giggled. It felt as if I was enveloped in a soft melodic sheet of silk. It felt as if nothing else in the world mattered anymore. I felt blood rush to my face and I managed a smile at her. 

She raises an eyebrow at my expression but doesn't say anything else. We walk back to my apartment chatting light-heartedly. She reminded me of a woman I knew. A business partner.
"Are you related to Athena Olympus?"

She stopped dead in her tracks. "How far are we from your house?" I was shocked by her sudden change of tone. Her breeze of loveliness was completely gone, all that remained was an icy dagger, pointed and sharp. 

Her voice was never without magnificence. Though it was cold and distant, it was elegant and skillful. It was what you'd expect from an assassin. Lethal and venomous, but nonetheless, sophisticated.

Her eyes darkened, visions of terrifying storms surging through my mind. It was as if her soul was shrouded in complete darkness. If looks could kill, I'd be torn apart mercilessly, stabbed and strangled in gory deliberation. 

Tensions were high and I delivered with an answer. "Near...5 minutes." I have to admit. I hated this Annabeth. Her eyes reminded me of Ms. Dodds. Her eyes glowed with hate, resentment etched hard across her features, past comprehensible ability.

"A worthless idiot, that boy is." 

"How stupid can you be?"

"I see exactly why your mother left you."

"You got hurt? What a gorgeous sight."

"You know what? You'd be better off dead."

"His mother was a slut anyway." The gears in my head shifted an awkward angle. My resentment poured over every digit and every fibre of my being. I had no recollection of that moment. It was as if I was watching myself through a screen. "Forget niceties, you know what I think?" It hit me hard, it hit her harder. Square on the jaw. Rage coursed through my veins, the wrath I had in me resurfacing. Nothing mattered but my vengeance. Every second of her torture, every minute in shame, every hour being victimized. If she was pulling my puppet strings, maybe it's time I cut off the cords. 

I snapped back to reality. I had hardly noticed my legs were moving, Annabeth silent beside me. We were both lost in our nightmares. I could tell, from the familiar look on her face. Annabeth, who previously only carried anger, now had a sense of tragedy painted on her. It was serene, like a wounded lioness. A fierce creature, in it's weakened state. Torment held us at our highest point of vulnerability.