The tell-tale of his footsteps echo across the hallway, loud and creaking, despite the number of times she has pointed it out to him so. And just like every time, he just grins sheepishly, promises not to do it again, breaks his promise and repeats.

It's just one of the cycles they have with each other, and gods know how many more are left. She doesn't mind it to be honest. She'd been accustomed to his nature, his every smirks and quirks, and to how his mind works, that even sometimes she can tell what he's going to say without him speaking out loud.

However, she won't tell him that, because it's crazy and irrational in so many levels.

His footsteps are getting closer, probably a meter away. Her eyes dart to a book on a corner, and she grabs it without thought. She takes a deep breath, shifts her eyes to her book and pretends like she's so absorb with what she's reading, which is apparently, the latest edition of Lady Aphrodite's romance series.

Damn. She doesn't do romance.

However, she can't do much anyway. He's already barging at her door, a wide grin on his face, as he walks towards her like a little kid.

"Annabeth!"

A smile graces her face as she turns her head towards him.

"What is this very important message you have that you decided to bother me?" she asks while subtly closing the book, and edges it out on her table, away from plain sight.

Percy shakes his head at her and grins. "Come on. You're not even busy. You were reading Aphrodite's book, which I know, you hate very much."

So he has seen it.

"Okay. You got me," Annabeth says as she smiles at him. "What are you planning anyway?"

He frowns at her. "You didn't ask me yet my purpose for coming here though."

"You're just far too easy to read."

"And just as you are," he retorts.

Annabeth scowls unknowingly, as she pads to her vanity mirror to fix her hair. "No, I'm not. You can't even read my mind just how much I'm annoyed at you at the moment."

She fixes her gaze at him through the mirror, playfully. "Can you, Percy?"

His shoulders lift in a shrugging motion. "You're joking."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. Your eyes have this glint right now, like you're thinking you know something that I don't and they're considerably brighter than the shade when you're actually annoyed with me," he says. "Which you aren't at the moment."

Annabeth smiles at him. "Actually I am, only a little bit though. You're creeping me out."

Percy chuckles, his gleeful laugh echoing across her room and maybe a little inside her head. "Like you're not doing the same with me. I bet you're trying to figure out what I'm thinking at the moment."

"Touché."

She doesn't notice but he's already standing behind her, looking at his reflection. "Anyways, I came to tell you that I've been asked to buy something from the town, and I'm wondering if you'd want to come, which I know you are."

"What if I'm not?" She retorts, just to spite him.

"Quit trying to pretend like you're not interested," he says in a small chuckle, while touching her hands. She looks up at him, confused and he just smiles. He grabs both of her hands and slowly lowers them away from her hair, her fingers letting go of the strands which she'd been trying to place in a braid.

"Don't," he whispers, his fingers playing with the voluminous curls on her shoulders, glowing golden blonde in the afternoon light. "As much as I like your braids, I like your hair better like this. Just let it down."

"Okay," Annabeth whispers back. She closes her eyes for a moment, breaths coming in quick, uneven puffs, as she tries to even out her racing heartbeat.

There are moments like this; moments where Percy says or does something that makes her hands fidget, breaths quicken and heart race that sends her mind to a frenzy. She notices he'd been doing it a lot, saying such things that is, or perhaps nothing's changed except for her and her feelings.

No. Nothing's change. It's just the heat that makes her mind dizzy, that's what she tells herself.

Thankfully, Percy doesn't notice her brief moment of absence. Annabeth watches him frown to himself, as if he is just remembering something important. Her hand reaches out to touch him. He jolts.

"You okay?" She asks.

"Yeah, I—I just remembered something. You're parents want to see you at the drawing room at 2:00—" he glances at his pocket watch, "-and you only have five minutes left."

"Are you serious?"

"I think they are. They say it's urgent."

Annabeth shakes her head at him in mock annoyance. "Seaweed brain, what do you think could have happened if you have completely forgotten?"

"We could've went out?" He answers amusingly.

"Very good." She extends her arm at him, inviting. "Come and join me face the wrath of the dragons?"

He laughs, his head thrown back as he loops his arm around hers.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Her parents don't look surprised when they see her enter the doors of the drawing room with her assistant in tow. However, a disapproving scowl flits on her mother's face even if she'd seen Percy's face for almost as long as her daughter's, like she can't bear the thought of them together. Together. Annabeth blushes a shade of pink, and to distract herself from the thought of the word, she fumbles with the loose ribbon on her dress.

What has she been thinking lately?

"Annabeth," her father greets. He looks at Percy. "Perseus."

"Your majesty," he bows in response and does the same for Annabeth's mother.

"I'm glad that you'd taken it upon yourself to accompany the princess, you've been a lovely servant to her, but I'm afraid the matters we're about to discuss are solely private and confidential," the king, Frederick says.

"Of course, your majesty. I'll step out of the room and accomplish some errands until you wish you to call me," Percy answers in a small humble voice, one that Annabeth hasn't heard in a long time. Perhaps it has been too long since she'd been in the presence of both her parents and Percy, but she thinks there's more to his tone than the usual politeness.

He then steps towards the door but not without sparing her a small smile and look that says, 'be careful soldier, for you are to face the wrath of the dragons alone'."

Annabeth tries to fight a grin and puts on a passive face as she looks back to her parents.

"Mother, father, you wished to call for me?"

"Yes indeed. We've come to discuss matters concerning your coming of age," Queen Athena begins. She retrieves an open letter on their desk and skims over it to make sure she's gotten the right letter.

"You're turning eighteen in a few weeks, Annabeth. And you must know what this entails," her father says as he smiles at her proudly. "You're going to start learning how to rule the kingdom with no take backs. But of course, you're not going to rule alone."

Annabeth twists the material of her dress in her fingers, her stomach dropping in absolute fear. "You mean I'd have to be betrothed."

"Not just to anyone else, but to a prince. You have to be betrothed to a prince." As Athena is saying this, she fixes her stare right at Annabeth, like she's making sure that she understands. The implication is sharp and cutting; she's not even trying to be subtle about it.

"Don't look so stricken, dear. Not yet, but a proper courting must take place," Frederick says in an attempt to console her.

Athena walks over and passes to her the letter she'd been reading earlier. She notes with a curious gaze the insignia of a neighboring kingdom at the flaps of the envelope. It's the symbol for the palace of Castellan.

"What's this for?" Annabeth asks her mother.

"I handed it for you to read it," replies the queen.

Annabeth tries to ignore the annoyance bubbling inside her and scans her gaze across the page of the letter. She skips over the pleasantries, and is just running through paragraphs when her eyes land on words: request, princess, marriage.

"What? A request for my hand already?! I'm not even of the right age yet!" She exclaims.

"But you'll be in a few weeks. Don't act so surprised. It's normal to receive requests even before the coming of age."

Annabeth huffs in her anger and anxiety. She knows exactly why she's angry; sees it in the way her parents are so desperate to have her married, especially Athena, to a powerful and wealthy kingdom. There are going to be suitors from other kingdoms, yes, but she knows the queen's word will prevail at the end. The courting is just a way of formality, a false sense of choice perhaps, even if there had already been a winner. She feels anxiety because she doesn't think she's ready, but a deeper and far more complicated reason rests at the back of her mind, refusing acknowledgement.

"I understand," she finally mutters.

Queen Athena straightens her back and looks at her in the eyes. "It's wonderful that we got that part settled. Prince Luke of the House of Castellan will be arriving here in a few days' time. I expect you to treat him with the best of your abilities."

"Yes, mother."

"Good. You're now free to go."

The conversation is already closed but the heavy sinking feeling in her chest doesn't lift until she's in the confines of her room: shut out from the rest of the world, and she lets the walls holding her up crumble down.

Annabeth doesn't notice Percy under the fuzzy of sleep clouding her eyes, but as soon as she does, she jolts awake and wipes her eyes with the back of her palm.

"Hey," she greets, her voice thickly muddled with drowsiness. "What's the matter?"

Percy just smiles sympathetically at her. He leans on the edge of her study table, which had served as her temporary cushion to support her head for the brief moment when she accidentally fell asleep.

"I take it that the meeting didn't go well?"

"Let's not just talk about it," she grumbles. Her mind goes back to the conversation and she instantly clenches her hands to suppress her anger. Annabeth avoids looking at his eyes; she knows for a fact that if she did, he'll just read what's behind them.

"Then that makes me more curious." Percy inches towards her, his fingers seeking her wrist. The action speaks nothing but concern. "What happened? Did the dragons tried to scare you?"

A soft chuckle bubbles from her throat. "I guess. I just-I don't think I'm ready yet. I mean, I'm ready to be a princess and do all my responsibilities. It's just that, some things that come with the job are less like—"

"I don't think I understand what you're pointing out," Percy says, cutting her off mid-speech. Perhaps, if he'd been in the presence of any other royal, he would've already been homeless and sentenced with some kind of horrible punishment. He's lucky to be in the presence of his best friend, who just happens to be the princess.

"Percy, I'm getting betrothed."

"Pardon?"

"You heard it. I'm getting betrothed. Dad says there would have to be a proper courting first from eligible bachelors. But I don't think so. The queen has already accepted a letter of request for my hand," Annabeth says in a rush. She picks at the glossy edge of her study table just to avoid looking at his eyes. She briefly remembers referring to her mom as the queen, as she finds it hard to call Athena her mom anymore. The queen seems so distant, so cutoff from her that Annabeth thinks she'd always been a stranger to her own daughter.

"Isn't it a little early?"

"She said it was only normal. I didn't want normal."

"Neither do I."

Percy reaches out and rubs the inside of her wrist. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head at him. "Don't be."

"No." A dry chuckle escapes him. "Not that. I think I'm being selfish for not wanting you to get older. I don't want you to be the princess. I want us to stay the same."

"But you wouldn't have met me if I were not the princess. You would've been a royal assistant for another girl."

"We could've met under different circumstances," he says.

Annabeth glances up at him and quirks her eyebrows. "And what, do you suppose, these circumstances would be?"

Percy grins, and she knows his mind is running far too fast, thinking of funny and albeit, probable scenarios. "You would've been this girl who wears pretty dresses and nose buried on her books, walking without looking-"

"I would always be looking at where I'm going, mind you," she argues.

"Yes, you are," Percy relents. "But the book you're reading is so beautiful you can't take your eyes off it, and that's when you bump to this dashingly handsome lad, which is me. And so our tale of friendship unfolds."

"Bluffing," Annabeth comments but she can't deny the smile on her lips, because as much as she thinks it's too cliché, it would've been what happened anyway.

"Wait, I've got a better idea," he says instead, and she can see the glint of mischief behind the ocean in his eyes—sees the twinkling bout of happiness this so-called circumstances talk has brought him. "You'd be this pretty but snobby girl in the swings who doesn't like other kids that much—"

"Hush! I'm not snobby, neither am I a grumpy kid," she cuts him off, but her heart silently flutters with his compliment. She playfully glares at him. "Why do you always portray me as a very undesirable person?"

Percy doesn't answer her and continues to babble on. "And I'm this playful kid who happens to have accidentally kicked a ball of dirt on your dress. You probably would've glared at me so much, very similar to what you're doing right now. And we'd just start laughing."

"Probably because you did something stupid, just like kicking a ball of dirt."

"It was an accident!"

She rolls her eyes at him and smirks. "You know what? I think I have something better."

He crosses his arms over his chest and mockingly grins at her. "What could you possibly think that is way better than those two?"

"Well, probably the first time we meet, you'll pass out," she begins, and she waits until recognition settles in his eyes.

Annabeth recalls the first time they actually meet, when they were around 12. It was in the castle; Percy had been chasing around his pet dog, Mrs. O'Leary, when he bumped to Annabeth's door and fell at her feet. Later then, they'd been introduced; she glared at him so hard and he smirked back; she commented that he drooled in his sleep, he blushed and thus, started their long epic of friendship.

Percy throws his head back and laughs; and she can't help but laugh too. She watches as his eyes close in mirth, smile lines crinkling, and he opens them to stare in wonder at her.

"You had me at the first line."

Annabeth's fingers play at the ribbons on her dress as she dutifully waits at her room for Prince Luke to arrive.

Percy has been tasked to do something, so she waits alone in her room, trying to quell the nervousness inside her.

To be honest, she doesn't know what to do. Conflicted about trying to act her best and impress the prince, or do her absolute worst in order to prolong her possible betrothal. It would only be rational to do the former, after all, it is what the queen has instructed her to do. But then her mind keeps on drifting to her royal assistant, for some reason she doesn't want to divulge.

Someone knocks on her door and a maid comes in. She abruptly curtsies and keeps her eyes on the ground.

"My majesty, the queen has ordered me to inform you that Prince Luke of the House of Castellan has arrived. Her highness has instructed me to accompany you to the drawing room," the maid mutters.

"In a minute," Annabeth replies, as she once again faces the mirror to steel her nerves. She has to do what the queen has told her to do, if not for her sake, but at least for the betterment of the whole kingdom. She knows she has to let go of this fleeting feelings she has for Percy, as soon as possible, no matter how she wishes to cherish the affections she has for her him. It is not right, and certainly not possible. It would be best to let go of this way before than prolong her agony in the process.

Annabeth shakily smiles at her reflection in the mirror and stands to follow the maid towards the drawing room. Their feet pad quietly on the floor of the palace and a comfortable silence envelops the atmosphere.

"He's a fine looking man," the maid's voice fleets across the hallway. It momentarily startles Annabeth. "The prince, I mean."

"Really?" she asks. Annabeth has yet to meet the prince himself, but she has heard that he's at least seven years older than her. She's a little thankful for that; others end up marrying men old enough to be their grandfather.

"He has blond hair like yours, bright blue eyes and I think you'd surely have beautiful blond heirs running around the castle if the courting goes well."

Annabeth doesn't know what to say that, so she just thanks her.

The maid doesn't stop talking though. "Although I suppose, it'd be nice to have mix of fair and dark haired children to take care of."

"What do you mean?" the princess asks.

A smile graces the servant's face. "Sir Perseus, or Percy as he liked to be called. It would have been nice if he was of royal blood, huh?"

"Perhaps," she answers warily.

"He certainly has the appearance. He's got such a nice, strong build and a handsome face built for royalties. Especially his eyes, they are so beautiful. Don't you agree, my highness?"

Annabeth's cheeks redden further at the thought. "I suppose so. He'd be fit for a king, but he is such a seaweed brain sometimes."

"Seaweed brain?"

"It was an old insult. Now, I suppose it has become a term of endearment."

The maid nods in deep thought. "He would need a strong, beautiful and intelligent queen at his side to take care of his seaweed brain tendencies, then."

"Yes." Annabeth laughs at that. "Otherwise it would've been chaos. That boy couldn't even properly fix his tie to save his life. Good thing he has me then to save his—oh. Oh."

The maid suppresses a wide grin on her face, judging by the way she's trying to clamp down her lips. Annabeth is full on blushing now; her cheeks resembling a very ripe tomato she once saw on her garden.

"I—um, I—I," the princess stutters out. Goodness, she hasn't been this embarrassed and incoherent before. "Can—can you just keep this a secret? A conversation between us alone?"

"Of course, your highness. I was just doing you a favor," the servant promises. She holds the door to the drawing room with both hands, but before she pushes them forward, she glances back at Annabeth.

"In all honesty, you are both good for each other. You look good for each other. It is a pity that it has to be like this."

"I know."

Then, Annabeth steps forward, door closing behind her back, sealing her fate in a room for her and the kingdom's future.

The first thing Annabeth notices is that the prince is really tall, almost a head taller than her. This is saying something, because the princess have been known to be a tall young lady for her age, and considering Percy is just an inch or two taller than her. Nevertheless, she musters the courage to send the prince a bright smile and a curtsy, after he respectfully bows down and kisses the back of her hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Prince Luke," she says. The prince smiles radiantly at her, and a small pink tints her cheeks.

"The pleasure is all mine, Princess Annabeth," he begins. His eyes glance appreciatively at her face. "They've neglected to tell me how gorgeous you are in person."

She laughs at his compliment. "It must have been the princess' aura. I'm not much different than any normal lady."

"I admire your humbleness."

"And you too, my prince. You are one fine handsome man yourself."

The prince grins. "And so I have been told."

So far, all is going well, Annabeth thinks. She tries to come up with a plan, but all she has in mind is a walk to the garden. She knows the flowers are on full bloom this season; it would be majestic sight.

"Would you care for a walk in the garden, Prince Luke?" she asks.

"Of course. If you must lead the way. I'm not all that accustomed to the place as you are, princess."

Annabeth leads the way towards the garden. They pass by the drawing room and she grinds her teeth. She doesn't like to be reminded how this is all an order from her mom, and she has nothing to do to stop it.

"You look very young, Princess Annabeth. Say, how old are you?"

"I'm turning eighteen within a few weeks. I believe I'm seven years younger than you are, Prince Luke."

"You do make me sound like an old man," the prince comments. Annabeth's eyes widen in alarm.

"No, that's not what—"

Prince Luke laughs. "Calm down. I wasn't trying to scare you. I was just fooling with you."

She heaves in a breath of relief, and turns to find the prince looking amazed at her.

"You were that scared?"

To save some dignity and self-confidence, she huffs in annoyance and walks faster than him. "We must hurry. The flowers are waiting."

Good thing, the prince has the instinct not to question her actions. He holds out his arm to her and Annabeth gratefully slips her own. She smiles instinctively because finally, the topic is dropped, but she doesn't see the pair of bright green eyes watching them both.

"You don't want to get married to me, do you?"

Annabeth whips her head to look at the prince, her grey eyes wide and open. She's surprised that instead of getting repulsive and angry at her, he just stares calmly at the sky, his hands holding the stray flower they caught growing on the other side of the garden.

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"You're not exactly the happiest camper," he says with a grin. "Others would have prepared the wedding as soon as possible, but you're different."

A furious blush appears on her cheeks. She feels so ashamed with her not so outstanding behavior around him. What would her mother say if she heard him? "Forgive me, Prince Luke, if I wasn't acting to the best of my character."

"Don't get too worked up, Annabeth," he says with a wave of his hand. "You've been a very charming princess; I'm not particularly shocked if you've charmed your way to most princes' heart. You've given me utmost reverence although, I suppose your heart wasn't in it. And you can call me Luke, and I shall give you the same respect."

"Still, please accept my apologies. If it's not much of a trouble, I want to ask how you found out."

A small chuckle escapes his throat. "Don't underestimate that seven years gap we have, Annabeth. Perhaps, I'm just a little wiser than most at the moment. Although, it is without doubt that you'll surely grow to be far wiser than I am during my age."

"Thank you."

"But to be fair," he gazes at the wildflower on his hand; that one flower she so stubbornly wanted to see. "I think I had the idea when I saw how you were so fascinated about this wildflower. A flower who stubbornly refuses to grow in the same way and place as the rest of the bush. You were different from the rest and I suppose, I just figured it out. There's something holding you back."

"Oh." Annabeth looks at him, amazed. "That's a very smart observation."

"Perhaps. I want to do you a favor for being exceptionally nice and welcoming of my presence, if you would want."

"Oh, I could not accept more, Luke. I have already troubled you."

"Hear me first before you make the decision. I suppose we could keep the facade of courting until your coming of age to prolong your freedom. Then you may choose to reject me and entertain another batch of suitors. I won't be angry or disappointed if you do so."

"That's really great. I could not repay anymore of your kindness. I hope you understand how grateful I am of your proposition!" Annabeth exclaims in glee. Without warning, she tackles him in a tight hug.

Luke laughs and hugs her back. "Consider it a gift from your non-relative brother."

"Thank you very much!"

"However, there's one thing I couldn't be sure of. I want to ask you, and please, answer as honestly as you can."

"I will try my best."

He grins and holds up two fingers. "I have two theories: it's either you think you are not ready to be married or there is someone else already occupying your heart. Which one is it?"

"Wh—"

"Answer as honestly as you can," Luke reminds her.

Annabeth, without no other choice, whispers the answer to his ear.

He grins knowingly. "I should've expected that."

"They look like a lovely pair, don't they?"

Percy jumps from his place, and glances to his right to find a maid looking out on the window like he does. He switches his gaze back to the garden and watches as Annabeth hugs the prince. Unknowingly, his hands clench on the windowsill and an irrational burst of annoyance bubbles through him.

"She could do better."

He has already come back from a trip to the town when he has stumbled upon the princess and her suitor. Deciding that spying on her wouldn't be a trouble since he's bound to protect her if the prince does anything suspicious, he has camped out on the palace window overlooking the garden.

He doesn't like it. Not even one bit.

In his annoyance, he doesn't notice the maid smiling on her palm as she goes over to resume on her duties.

"Oh, what a time to be in love," she sings, as her feet carry her across the palace floor, leaving Percy more annoyed than ever.

"You sound tired," a voice comments.

Annabeth raises her head to throw a glare in his direction, then plops her head back to the pillows.

"If tired you mean, walking under the sun for hours in this stupid shoes and promptly stumbling on uneven soil, then yes, I am tired."

"You're exaggerating," Percy remarks but sits at the foot of her bed anyways. He looks every bit opposite of what the prince looks like: dark hair sitting unruly, eyes alight with swirling whirlpools, his clothes creased and untucked, and his actions speak all but gracefulness.

These are some of the thoughts that keep running to and fro her mind, as she recalls the day she spent with the prince. She so badly wants to forget every adorable traits of Percy that she tries to compare him with the prince, in hopes of finding faults in him. She supposes she'd better start with the slowly disliking him part, so she could altogether forget she'd even liked him in the first place.

"Shut up."

"You looked like you had fun," he says.

Annabeth huffs annoyed. What is he doing? Trying to rile her up? "Do me a favor and shut up, Percy."

He instantly quietens at that, as if knowing not to mess with her today. It's very unlike him to do so. She begins to feel guilty; she might've been too harsh at him and tries to come up with an apology, when she feels hands creep up her feet.

She doesn't scream, doesn't even flinch when his skin comes in contact with hers. She knows what he's trying to do without even having to look back and see. She can feel his warm hands, fingers nimble and careful as he undoes the ribbons on her stupid shoes. He then slides it away, and she hears it fall on the ceramic floor of her room; his hands doing the same thing with her other foot.

Then, as if he was some expert, his fingers slowly knead her foot, loosening the tight knots in her muscles, and probably the knots in her heart too. Whatever forms of dislike she has tried to come up with disappeared within a few minutes, or few seconds, she doesn't care, and has been replaced by something stronger and bigger feelings than before.

"I'm sorry," he says after a while. "I didn't mean to pry and to be a complete jerk about it. I'm just trying to look out for you."

"I know," she answers. "I'm sorry too."

"Let's not fight again? I'm a good masseuse, if you must know."

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but a grin crosses her lips anyway. She keeps it away from him though. "Yes, yes. Just keep going."

"Annabeth?"

"Yes?"

"I know that you know almost everything, but I want to make sure. You do know that I care for you, right?"

Her heart stutters in her chest but she acts nonchalant for a front. "Yes. What brought this on, feeling sentimental, aren't we?"

She can feel the tilt of his lips from afar, can imagine his eyes shining and his smile lines crinkling, and that ever so troublesome lopsided grin she grew up with. "I just wanted to make sure that you know. And that you should."

"Perce, do you know—"

She wants to ask if he does know that she loves him; if he knows that her heart beats thrice as fast when he's near or if he knows the thoughts she entertain when she watches him spar, shirtless. But, she figures, he can defeat a thousand armies, study as many books as she does, find his way out of the endless labyrinth and she bets, he still can't figure out his best friend is in love with him.

So she doesn't.

"Never mind. It's nothing, Seaweed brain."

The days seem to trickle faster than the water pouring from the faucets of the palace. One time, it had still been three weeks before the Coming of Age Ceremony, and the next, it's only one day away.

The pressure on Annabeth's chest doesn't seem to go away, and it grows bigger and heavier as the hours go by. The maids have already started their preparations and the dressmaker had come and taken her measurements a week before. Her dress had already been delivered to her closet, but she refuses to look at it. The king and queen were busier than ever; sending letters and entertaining guests as they arrive to the palace.

Good thing, the queen hasn't suspected anything off with the courting between her and Luke. It has also been a few weeks since she struck the deal with the prince, and they seem to be doing well in keeping their facade of courting.

Too well it seems. Even Percy appears to think the same thing, if his little bursts of petty annoyances and overprotective attitude hidden under a deep scowl are any indication. She knows he's just trying to do his job by attending to her, but a little selfish part of her wants to think that those little moments of irritation are brought on by jealousy.

So, so selfish, she thinks.

Annabeth watches him talk to a palace guard, when he catches her gaze, and through his gestures, she knows he'll be leaving the conversation soon to walk towards her.

The satisfaction and glee brings a smile to her face when he starts marching to her place.

"You're in a good mood," he says, when he's within an arm's length.

"What can I say." She fixes on a dreamy look and a bubbly smile. "I had a nice walk in the garden."

With amusement playing in her eyes, she watches as his posture stiffens and scowl replaces the smirk on his lips. Percy seem to take note of this fact, when his eyes squint with wariness at her. "There's no carriage this morning. And you had a meeting with the king and queen."

She fails to withhold a laugh at the look on his face. "I got you good."

"My, my, pranking me now, are you?" he says with a menacing voice. But then, he cracks up too. "You're doing well."

"You only expect the best from the princess."

"And that I believe."

For one single moment, his eyes find hers; the sea in his eyes swirling and thrashing like a storm, yet she feels calm and settled, as if she was in the midst of it all.

He's a wild storm, a force to reckon with, but she's the eye of his storm; that one part of him where everything feels tranquil and right amidst the chaos.

In that one single moment, she almost sees the adoration she feels for him reflected in his eyes, as his sea green ones continuously stare at her with an expression akin to wonder. But then, the moment is broken; he looks away, and she knows that moment is only constructed by the selfish part of her.

A very selfish and perhaps, pathetic part.

"The time has come for the celebration of the Coming of Age of the princess, and you are cordially invited to attend and rejoice with the kingdom as Her Royal Highness takes the first step of—ow! Ow!" Percy jumps and drops the palace invitation—a piece of royal parchment paper designed as a scroll, which the princess chose herself. He rubs the sore part in his arm where Annabeth had hit it and sends a glare towards her way. She just grins in return.

"Well, I told you to stop it. Not my fault that you were stubborn."

"You punch like a man."

"And you cry like a baby, Seaweed brain."

"I do not!" He crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to show some masculinity. "In case you forgot, I lead the royal army training when I was 15 and participated in various military exercises in the kingdom. And I'm an excellent swordsman."

She glances over at him, noting his disheveled appearance. He looks like a rogue knight; fearsome and strong with his military trained body but with a heart of a wild and free boy—someone a princess like her would definitely elope with. A bubble of warmth explodes in her as she watches him attempt to fix his tie; one of the more notable scruffiness in him. Annabeth steps into his space and tugs at his tie pointedly.

"Your tie is crooked, Mr. Oh-so-excellent-Swordsman." She loosens the knot—which had been tangled into a mess she can't fathom how. Her fingers move with a practiced precision as they redo the tie. "Good thing you have me to save your life."

"I could not have been more indebted to the more crooked lady."

Annabeth sends him a playful glare, her head tilting up at him, as she tightens the hold on the fabric. "Remember, I can easily strangle you."

"Oh no! Strangling, my biggest fear!" Percy says in dramatic, high voice. He keeps the back of his hand on his forehead, like he's going to faint. "Spare me, o dear princess."

She hits him on the chest with her fist, and promptly buries her face on it to smother her laughter. "Shut up, Percy."

"You'll ruin your hair," he warns, but makes no move stop her from hugging him. In fact, he hugs her tighter; his hands and his arms embracing her body like a second skin.

"They don't care."

"Happy birthday," he greets out of the blue.

She pulls away to smirk at him. "Nice to hear you say something without sarcasm."

"Maybe it has. You don't just recognize it yet."

"Thank you very much for that very sarcastic happy birthday."

He grins on her hair, and though she could not see it, Annabeth could very well describe his smile like she would to a book of architecture.

"Save me a dance?" he asks.

"Don't worry. I already saved you the first."

"But the first dance is for—"

Her fingers on his lips silence him.

"I want it to be you, okay?" When Annabeth smiles, she feels it widen till it reaches both her ears. "Who said they had to see it? We can dance, right now."

Percy can't quell the smile stretching on his face as he bashfully shakes his head and mutters, "I knew there was reason I like you."

"Good to know. I thought you only became my friend because of the food."

"That is very much true. I live for the palace food."

Annabeth shakes her head in small chuckles. "I don't know how you became my best friend."

"Believe me. I have no idea either," he whispers, then he steps out of her reach.

For a moment, the action confuses Annabeth, and she starts to ask him when Percy bows. His arm extends towards her and there's a bright smile on his face with a hint of playfulness.

"Will you do me the honor of your first dance, your highness?"

Her heart flutters like butterfly wings on a summer day and she beams at him. "It is my pleasure."

Because she can't help it, she adds, "Dork."

He laughs and takes her hand; there's no magic and no sparks, but there is a warm, steady heat that travels from her fingers down to the tip of her toes. Her skin tingles with nervous excitement, and she bets, his too, with the way she can feel the pinpricks of nerves pulsing underneath his skin.

Her heart doesn't beat twice or thrice faster, but instead remains in a steady, palpitating rhythm she has come to know when she's at home. And perhaps, he is her home.

Surprisingly, even without music, their feet seem to move in the same tempo; their movements fluid and wonderful at the same time.

"You practiced," she jokes.

"Just naturally graceful." Percy's gaze shifts to the small curl that has strayed away from her ear. His fingers graze the stray curl on her cheek; his eyes looking at her with an intensity she hasn't seen before. It was as if he was enchanted.

"It's a wonder how I sometimes I forget that my best friend is a girl; that she's a princess on her way to becoming the queen," Percy whispers, his eyes never leaving the stray curl. "But it's also good that I forget."

Her breath stutters as she musters the courage to ask: "Why?"

His gaze then moves towards her own, fingers gently holding her chin up at him. "Because during the times that I remember, I know how it hurts to look away from someone this beautiful."

"Percy," she whispers.

"Don't. I'm sorry."

Then he steps away from their embrace, and leaves the room without looking back.

The event occurs without a hitch; everything goes according to the plan the Queen has drafted herself. Every visitor seems to be enjoying the celebration, as they continuously congratulate the princess and her betrothed. Nobody seems to be sulking except the princess herself, who has momentarily stepped back from the ballroom to find a space. Luke has managed to find her though; silently joining her in observing the grounds from the palace balcony.

"Happy birthday," he greets.

"Thank you."

"You don't seem to be enjoying the party." Luke leans back to look at her. "What's the matter?"

"That stubborn idiot."

Luke laughs as he gestures to himself. "I hope you don't mean me."

Then he whispers, after making sure no one is around to eavesdrop. "The guy?"

The scowl that flits to her face is an answer itself.

"What did he do?"

"Everything stupid."

"That's—very broad."

"He's so annoying. Every kind of annoying. And I don't understand why."

"Did he say something bad?"

Annabeth's face burns as she remembers the words. "No. Quite the opposite actually."

"Then why—oh. Hi!"

Percy stumbles when he hears Luke acknowledge him. He just wants to evade the party for a while but just so his luck when he stumbles upon the princess and her fiancé. He looks like he wants to escape but remains on his ground. "I hope you have a wonderful night, your highness."

"Percy," Annabeth calls. His eyes raise to her for a second, before it flits back down.

"What is it, your highness?"

"Drop the act, Percy."

Luke glances between the two of them; both seemingly unfazed by each other when he connects the dots.

"Um," he interrupts and looks at Percy. "You know, she'll dump me by the end of the day, so you don't have to be so hostile."

Percy startles from his place, and stares at Annabeth with wide eyes. She's a little shocked too; she didn't know what to say after Luke dropped the truth.

"It's a long story," she says instead.

Percy shakes his head, confused. "I don't know why you're telling me this."

"You're being stupid, is what she said." Luke gestures to Annabeth. "Now, I don't know why, but I don't want her sulking on her own birthday, so fix this. Now."

He pushes Percy towards the princess and heads back to the direction of the ballroom.

They remain in silence for some time, neither of them wanting to speak up first.

"What's the deal about what he said?" Percy asks.

"We're not getting married, simple."

"What about the part where you told him I'm being stupid?"

"You're being stupid, that's why. Even now."

"What?" he exclaims. He moves closer and stares down at her. "How am I being stupid right now? Tell me."

She rounds up and stares back, defiantly. "What if I don't?"

"Then how am I supposed to know what did I do?"

"Nothing! You did nothing."

"Nothing?"

Annabeth rolls her eyes and huffs, angrily. "Ugh. You're so clueless it hurts."

"This is about earlier then?"

"Gods, yes! You don't know that I'm ready to tell you how I am in love with you despite your utter cluelessness and stupidity. Then you go marching out of the room, apologizing without explaining why," she replies, enraged. She pinches the bridge of her nose to briefly control her anger. "Percy, please. I don't care whether you're concerned about my feelings or whatever, but please; if you don't like me that way, act like man and tell me in the face."

His eyebrows scrunch up, and his mouth is open like a fish. He gapes at her in shock. "You're—you're in love with me?"

"Like it wasn't obvious already."

"But how?"

"I don't know. You tell me why."

"But I was in love with you first!" He steps into her space and glares at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She doesn't answer, but she matches his glare with a startling intensity, daring him to act. The argument had inevitably moved them closer; their noses almost touching, their chests pressing against each other as they heave for breath. The fire that rages in their eyes dulls to an ember.

"If you're in love with me, then why did you say sorry?"

His eyes remain fixed on her own, both refusing to look away. "Because I'm about to do this."

He closes the few traitorous inches between them with a fervent kiss that quickly steals the breath out of her. She doesn't wait for a shock to register and eagerly kisses back. The distance that seem so small earlier now becomes a galaxy whenever their lips part, as if they'll become two worlds apart. She lets out a gasp as he kisses her hard; his lips coaxing the breath out of her. The steady pulsing on her veins rapidly turns to a crescendo, and she chases it till she can't quite feel her body. Annabeth kisses him until she drowns herself in the memory of his lips and his taste on her tongue; kisses him until she can no longer forget the feel of his hands on her skin; and she kisses him until she can no longer breathe air that isn't him.

They pull back moments later; their breaths mingling in a symphony of feelings. Annabeth keeps her eyes closed, and savors the feeling for a moment longer.

She feels his thumb running over her lips, and opens her eyes to look at him. Percy stares at her in wonder; like she was a goddess who'd just hung the moon.

"That's eighteen years' worth of tension," he whispers.

"We haven't met till we're twelve, idiot." She smiles at him. "But I guess it was."

"Hope you liked my gift."

Annabeth looks up at him, faking scandalized. "That was your gift to me?"

"Well, I didn't have time to wrap my heart in a box." Percy smiles cheekily at her. "You already took it, and I don't think I can get it back."

She blushes furiously and hits his chest with her fist. "Aren't you smooth."

Percy feigns hurt. "This is just the start, and you're already beating me up."

"You know that I won't make things easy for you, Seaweed brain."

"And that I know."

Their story doesn't end here; it's just the start and there's still a long way waiting for them (gods know how many trials they both have to face *cough, the Queen Athena, *cough). But she knows that whatever obstacle they may face, the feeling she gets every time he kisses her will be a thousand times worth it.

Annabeth briefly wonders if this is how it feels to be drunk in love, and if it is, then she'll want nothing more but to spend her days forever intoxicated in him.

A/N: It's been so LONGGGGG. This is my first one-shot in awhile, after several months of being inactive. College is really getting into me, and there's no room to write, unlike when I was in high school. Since this is coming from a person who hasn't written anything for the past months, expect this to be crappy and ew (especially the part towards the end). This is also unedited, so sorry for the mistakes.

I'd like to hear how i'm doing though, so please review.