The Half-Blood Project

38- Into The Darkness

Percy Jackson.

I watched for a few hours. Kept quiet. Kept thinking.

I hated my mind sometimes.

I remembered the kiss a little too much, how much she had surprised me, called me an idiot, and put on a magic hat, disappearing, leaving me speechless. The explosion, the fiery stream of lava and ash that propelled me into the air so high I thought I was going to die, only for me to crash onto a sandy island.

Did she regret it? I wouldn't be surprised if she did because Annabeth seemed to regret keeping herself alive at this point. Annabeth, well, girls, in general, were confusing. Up was down, right was left. and left was right.

At least Jason communicated with me.

I sat in the corner, Riptide in sword form, watching the two girls sleep peacefully, snoring and muttering incoherent things. Rachel was taking this whole 'Greek Monstery Myth' stuff well. Annabeth was right(As always) about her being strong and will able.

Rachel snored softly and Annabeth did too, I wondered if she was having a dream, her foot was twitching and she kept turning from side to side.

I was so confused about what I felt towards her. First, we had become good friends, I noticed how pretty she was, her long blonde curls and bright gray eyes that held so many storms behind them. She was kind to me, well, most of the time. Then as soon as I think, maybe, just maybe, I like her, she kisses me, thinking I was going to die. And when I got back, she seemed to downright hate me and punch's the lights from my chest.

What did she think of me? Or was she trying not to think of me at all?

I had girlfriends before I met Annabeth, well, not girlfriends, just random flings from time to time, no-one asked questions. No-one had reallyaBut Annabeth was just...different. She reminded me of those stories, the ones Mom read to me when I was little, before Gabe, the one's about a warrior princess who could save herself, didn't need to enlist the help of a man. I didn't mind those stories. I liked them.

Annabeth was like one of that warrior princess's the ones that were supposed to marry the prince of another kingdom, but played with sharp knives in the dead of night, preparing for the day where she would slit the throats of her betrothed and run off into the sunset, away from the life of royalty and cycle of blood that spilled from the skin. Annabeth was like one of those warrior princesses because she didn't take no for an answer, never, not once did she let someone get in the way of her goal.

I admired that more and more each day.

She was this light, that shone in the dark, flickered from time to time, wavering a bit, but she glowed in that darkness, letting the shadows burn under her touch and without feeling a touch of mercy.

I almost nodded off, thinking about it, but shook myself awake when I saw her stir, Rachel was still out cold. She wore herself to the bone today.

"Hey." She yawned and sipped the water gingerly.

"You sleep at all?"

Annabeth shook her head. "Nope. Saw a bunch of things. Grover and Tyson are still alive, saw them."

A chunk of relief fell to my gut and expanded, wrapping around the worry and making it disappear. I trusted dreams. They didn't seem to lie as often as people.

Annabeth scooted over and sat next to me, leaning her head on the wall and sighing softly, I noticed how she smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, even if we were still down here, in these damp tunnels. I wasn't aware though, and when I look back on it I remember how fast my heart was beating in my chest, I thought it would crack a rib-bone.