And How Holy To Receive It Anyways - Blog Posts

Feel bad asking about another but "I called you at 2am because I need you" (48) would be great!

In many ways, dating Percy feels like skipping straight to the good part of love. There are no awkward icebreakers, no friends anxiously checking Annabeth's location during dates, no innocent questions about family and no strained explanations in response. They have slipped into intimacy like tailored clothes, something they wore for ages before making the perfect fit.

Like now, when Annabeth dials his number on instinct, knowing he's out with friends but will pick up on the second ring.

One.

Two--

"Hey, baby," he says, and the warmth of his voice undoes the way Annabeth shrinks at the joyous chatter in the background. "It's late."

He's having fun, that nagging voice says. Don't ruin his night. Let him be.

"I miss you." A lifeline. I can't say it, but I'll say it if you see it.

"I miss you too, always." She can hear him thinking, practically see the pucker between his brows at the hitch in her breath. "Want me to come over? Things are winding down here."

Annabeth squeezes her eyes shut, dropping the tissues back on the couch and pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Please."

"Do I need to stop for supplies?"

"Just you."

Percy shows up sooner than should be humanly possible, his forehead glistening faintly with sweat from the brisk walk to Annabeth's apartment. He didn't wait for the train.

Thick summer air follows him in the door, pausing in the hallway with him when his eyes find Annabeth, like even the air is waiting to see how he can make this better. His eyes flit to the tissues, the throw blanket, the red splotches on Annabeth's face.

He moves toward her, tucking the throw blanket around her until she's an emotionally compromised burrito easing into the comfort of his lap, warmth melting through her as his hands pull back her hair.

Annabeth closes her eyes as Percy kisses her forehead, murmuring an "I love you," that settles over her with a kind weight, the firm hand of a lover, the comfort of a cloak. And the bad night is still a bad night, but now it is so much lighter. Oh, it is everything to be held. How human to want what you can't ask for. How holy to receive it anyway.