Colour coordination was a big thing for Annabeth. Every aspect of her outfit was carefully selected for maximum aesthetic appeal, and colour played a big role in that. Today was a study of complements: a bright yellow sun dress paired with a thin, violet belt that matched her heels. With her long, golden hair pulled back into a neat ballerina bun, she was like a walking ray of sunshine.

So she didn't understand why she kept trying to figure out what would work with black skinny jeans.

The thought had crept into her head, completely unbidden, the moment the boy in the middle of the lecture hall had met her eye. She'd just been about to slide into her usual seat towards the front when she'd felt his gaze on her and looked up to see him, sitting just a few rows back and a little to the side. He was unfairly good looking: chiseled jaw, strong brow, stunning sea green eyes that were focused intently on her.

But he was dressed entirely in black: Ripped skinny jeans and a black t-shirt with what was no doubt a band logo plastered on the front. Annabeth didn't own a single article of black clothing. The boy's dark hair was artfully tousled, so much so that she couldn't decide whether he'd styled it or if he really had just rolled out of bed with it looking like that. When he caught her staring he'd raised his arm in a little half-wave, and she'd glimpsed a tattoo on his forearm.

He'd smirked instead of smiled, and Annabeth had blushed and promptly dropped into her seat with significantly less grace than usual.

The lecture was almost over now, and she could still feel his eyes on her, almost like a physical touch. She rubbed the back of her neck, as though she could push his eyes away. Every other time she'd glanced at him, his gaze had been intense and focused, as though she was the subject of this week's lecture and he was trying his damndest to figure her out. That look sent a shiver down Annabeth's spine and stole the breath from her lungs, and she couldn't decide if she enjoyed that or not. She chanced another glance over her elbow as she rubbed her neck now, and caught him in the act. He wasn't staring quite as intensely as before, but he didn't look ashamed either - if anything, he looked happy to have her attention.

The smirk he flashed her now was closer to a smile than the last one, but it was still a smirk nonetheless. She raised her eyebrow at him, a silent question. She didn't really know what, exactly, she was asking, but he seemed to understand. He smiled for real now. She smiled back.

As soon as the lecture ended he was standing at the end of her row, hands shoved in the pockets of those ripped jeans as he watched her pack up her things.

"Can I help you?" she asked as she slid her notebook into her backpack, between her laptop and text book.

When he didn't reply she looked up, curious. He was still staring at her, but this time he looked away when she caught him. She saw him take a breath before he turned back to her.

"I'm Percy," he said. His voice was rich and warm and slightly accented.

"Nice to meet you, Percy," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and finally looking at him straight on. "I'm Annabeth."

"Annabeth," he repeated, smiling around the syllables.

Everything, she decided suddenly. Everything works with black.

He started sitting next to her at their lectures. He didn't take notes, but he watched the lecturer in rapt attention. Every time they made a point he particularly liked, Percy would gently knock his knee against Annabeth's, or he'd nudge her with his elbow, which was extremely frustrating when she was handwriting. He apologised every time he sent a line of black ink streaking across her notes but couldn't quite seem to bring himself to stop.

She quickly learned he was a very tactile person; and it only got more pronounced when they started studying together. He'd sit right next to her, leaning into her shoulder and creasing the sleeve of her cardigan. Or he'd put his hand over hers on the textbook when she was pointing out an important passage, his silent way of letting her know he had a question.

He still looked like an absolute thug, and he swore far too much, but Percy could be incredibly sweet. He always made a point to compliment her - her looks, her smarts, her sense of humour. He could always find something good to say about her. He bought her tea from one of the cafes on campus whenever he got a coffee and refused to let her pay him back. He always walked her to her next class, or home. His presence at her side was remarkably reassuring. Annabeth felt safe with Percy there.

He never asked to come inside, and she didn't remember ever explicitly inviting him, but one day they found themselves in her kitchen sharing a sandwich, and after that it never really stopped.

Percy was fascinated by her room. The first time they tried to study in there they got absolutely nothing done, because he spent the whole time doing laps, picking up every object that wasn't stuck in place and turning it in his hands, asking her what it was and where she'd got it and why she had it. He preened in her full length mirror, spiking up his hair, and Annabeth sat on her soft bed and laughed at him.

His reflection frowned at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she insisted. "You just… I didn't think you'd like my room. It's all… white."

That was, technically, a lie. It was actually shades of white: cream, ivory, a bit of champagne. But she doubted Percy would appreciate the subtle differences.

"I like your room," he said, "because it's like you."

She tried to keep her expression neutral as she said, "Oh?"

"Yeah. And I like you, so why wouldn't I like your room?"

She had to work to unstick her mouth. "I like you, too, Percy."

She promptly rolled over and reached for a book on her bedside table, but when she rolled back he was still watching her reflection. She flashed him a small smile before burying her nose in the book.

Annabeth's housemate Jason jumped a mile when he walked in on them for the first time, and they weren't even doing anything. Percy was lying on her bed, head hanging upside down over the edge and hands twisted in her princess canopy - if he ripped it she was going to kill him - watching her sketch.

"You know," she said slowly, "It looks better if you have your head the right way up."

"You know," he mimicked. He did that a lot, mimicked her. With anyone else it would have been annoying, but with Percy it was somehow endearing. She liked that he absorbed her words and her mannerisms to such a degree that he was able to replicate them. "You poke your tongue out when you concentrate."

Her head shot up, but before she could respond Jason was knocking on her open door and stepping into the room. "Hey, Annabeth, do you have - oh, my god." He jumped back a mile when he saw Percy on the bed. "Hi. I'm sorry, I didn't realise you had company."

"Jason, this is Percy. Percy, this is Jason," Annabeth introduced them.

Percy rolled over and sat up properly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Hey."

The two boys eyed each other warily, and no one said anything more.

"Right," Annabeth said. "Well, what were you looking for, Jason?"

"Nothing," he said, backing out of the room. "I'll talk to you about it later. Nice to meet you, Percy." He threw one last curious look at Annabeth before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

"You hadn't told him about me," Percy said. It was the type of thing that should have been a question, but when he said it so seriously it was definitely a statement.

Annabeth set her sketchbook aside and spun around to face him. She didn't know what he wanted her to say. What was she supposed to have told her housemate? It's not like they were dating. Even though the sight of him sprawled on her bed made her cheeks warm…

"No, I told him about you," she argued.

Percy raised an eyebrow.

She twisted her hands together. "I just didn't tell him you were…" she waved her hands at him.

He frowned. "I was what, Annabeth?"

"You know," she said hopelessly. "A… punk?"

For a second, Percy's eyes flashed wide and sad, and Annabeth's heart twisted. And then his expression completely closed off. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"What? No! Why would I be ashamed of you?"

"Because I'm -" He copied her hand gesture from before.

"Percy," she said softly, moving to sit beside him on the bed. She reached for his hand and he didn't flinch away. She turned his arm over and traced her fingertip along the lines of his tattoo. "I don't care about that. If I cared, do you think I'd let you in my room? Do you think I'd let you on my bed?"

He shook his head. He was watching her with that same intense stare from the first day they'd met. She thought about how easy it would be to kiss him right then. She buried her face in his shoulder instead.

"I like you, Percy," she repeated, voice muffled by the well worn fabric of his shirt.

She could hear him smile when he said, "I like you, too, Annabeth."

One night, when they stayed up ridiculously late studying, Annabeth fell asleep on top of her covers, using her textbook as a pillow. When she woke up a few hours later her book had been placed neatly on the ground, she had a proper pillow under her head and the blanket that normally sat at the foot of her bed had been draped over the top of her. Percy was nowhere to be seen, but a hastily scribbled note sat on her other pillow.

'Sleep well, Princess. See you tomorrow.'

On their first proper date, he brought her flowers. A big, beautiful bouquet of all different varieties, as though he hadn't been sure which type was her favourite so he'd just gone for all of them. She almost cried when he handed them over.

"No one's ever given me flowers before," she said, voice wobbly.

He frowned, genuinely perplexed. "They should have."

He took her to an outdoor concert. They sat on a grassy hill in the light of the setting sun and ate homemade sandwiches and drank cheap wine and talked over the music.

"You look beautiful," Percy said for approximately the seventh time.

Butterflies ricocheted around Annabeth's stomach. It was hard to reconcile such gentle words with the boy sitting across from her, who looked to be all rough edges with a blunt stare and a sharp mouth. But she was quickly discovering that there was much more to Percy Jackson than the punk rock persona he projected.

"Thank you," Annabeth said for approximately the seventh time. She smiled and added, "So do you."

He patted down his black t-shirt and lifted his chin, obviously pleased. "Why thank you! That's quite a compliment, coming from someone as fashionable as you."

She giggled into her glass and he fell back onto the picnic rug, folding his arms behind his head. She drew her knees up to her chest and propped her chin on them, peering down at him.

"Thank you," she said, more seriously than before.

He turned his head to squint up at her. The crinkles in the corners of his eyes made her heart race. "What for?"

"For bringing me here."

He didn't reply. He just reached out to her. She took his hand and allowed him to pull her down to him. She uncoiled and lay down beside him on the soft rug, resting her head on his shoulder and listening to the steady beat of his heart, timed to the music washing over the hill.

Percy ran his hand through Annabeth's loose hair, and she thought then about how dangerous this already was.

At the end of the night, when he kissed the crown of her head and called her Princess, she decided she didn't care.

"Are you sure I look okay?" Annabeth hissed, tugging on the hem of her navy blue dress. "I've never been to a gig like this, I don't know what the dress code is."

"You look incredible," Percy replied, looking her up and down. She didn't miss the way his gaze lingered on her legs. "And there is no dress code."

She rolled her eyes. "There's always a dress code, Percy."

"Not here, Princess."

When they got inside the bar, Annabeth thought that there was a dress code, and Percy just didn't realise because his everyday dress just happened to fall perfectly within its guidelines. Everyone was in black - black leather, black denim, black everything.

Normally navy was a nice, understated choice, but in this crowd she felt as though she might as well be wearing a fluro pink jacket.

"Seriously, you look amazing," he said, mouth close to her ear so she could hear him over the music. The feeling of his breath against her neck made her shiver. "You always do."

She squeezed his arm tighter and followed him into the crowd. When he spotted a girl with choppy hair drumming along the edge of a table with some straws, he slid out of Annabeth's grasp. Her stomach dropped.

"Hey, Piper!" Percy called, and the other girl looked up, immediately dropping the straws.

She smiled and threw her arms around him in a hug. "Percy, hey!" She still had her arms around his neck when she spotted Annabeth and her face froze. She pushed back and mouthed, "Is this her?"

Percy nodded, reaching again for Annabeth's hand and pulling her up to stand beside him. "Piper, this is Annabeth. Annabeth, this is Piper."

"Hello," Annabeth said, trying to sound as confident as possible. Percy squeezed her hand.

"Hey," Piper said.

The two girls eyed each other for a moment. Annabeth considered going in for a hug, but then Piper held out a closed fist. Annabeth mimicked her and gave her a fist bump. Piper's smile showed off her sharp canine teeth, making her look terrifyingly beautiful.

Annabeth was still trying to decide the colour of her eyes when she said, "You ready for the show?"

Annabeth had thought she was ready, but she wasn't. They stuck at the very back of the audience, but despite Percy's best efforts to protect her from the crowd, which moved in surges and waves only loosely timed to the music, she somehow ended up losing a shoe. Percy tried looking for it, but it was a lost cause. As soon as he realised this, he pressed her against his side, looped an arm around her waist, half picked her up and carried her out of there.

"I'm so sorry," he said when they were out on the street. He didn't let her go.

The night air felt extra brisk compared to the heat of all those bodies crushed together inside. Annabeth rubbed her arms.

She shrugged. "I'm a little upset, I'm not going to lie. But please don't feel bad - it wasn't your fault. Besides, they're an old pair."

As if Annabeth was going to wear new heels to a bar with who-knows-what on the floor.

Percy mimicked her shrug. "I still feel bad. How can I make this up to you?"

She glanced down at her bare foot, then up the dark road they had to walk to get home. "Uh. Well…"

Percy piggy backed her the whole way home without a single complaint.

And Annabeth allowed herself to think, for the very first time, that she could very possibly see herself falling in love with this boy - this silly boy with the broad shoulders and strong arms and kind heart.

She kissed him, first.

It was a spur of the moment decision at the end of their third date. He dropped her home for the night and said goodbye at the door, dropping the usual quick kiss to her forehead before turning to go. She stood with her hand on the doorknob for fifteen seconds too long before running after him.

He heard her at the last second - he just had time to turn around before she was barreling into him, knocking them both off their feet and sending them sprawling to the ground. He managed to half sit up, with her still on top of him, before her lips met his.

The kiss was hard and quick and weeks' worth of pent up energy released in one burst, but god it was glorious. When she realised what she was doing, Annabeth pulled back, breathing heavily. She sat back on her heels and pushed her hair behind her ears.

"Thank you," she murmured, "for -"

She didn't get to tell him what she was thankful for. Percy's fingers were calloused and his grip was strong, but he cradled her face like she was the most precious thing in the world. He tilted her head up and kissed her again. This time it was soft and sweet and lingering, and when they parted Annabeth was breathless in an entirely different way.

"Thank you," she whispered against his lips.

She heard the click of a camera phone as someone wolf-whistled them. Annabeth looked up to see Percy's friends standing in a semi circle, gaping. Some of them were carrying instruments, like they were on their way to or from a gig. She hadn't met all of them before, and the ones she did recognise she'd only met very briefly. Piper was smirking.

Annabeth's face flushed bright red and she quickly made sure her skirt hadn't flipped too far up her thighs. What an impression to make.

Percy followed her gaze, his frown melting into an exasperated smile when he recognised his mates. He got to his feet, helping Annabeth up and tucking her underneath his arm, nestled safely against his side. Before he could say anything, she decided to take control of the situation.

"Hi, I'm Annabeth," she said with a smile. "Percy's girlfriend."

His grin was so wide she didn't even need to turn her head to see it clearly.

a.n. for more discussion about the absolute joys that are punk!percy and girly!annabeth you can follow me on tumblr as bananannabeth, i'm always up for talking about this au!