Run | TMR X PJO [ Editing ]

You Drool In Your Sleep

It was as if time had stopped for good, all of them rooted to the spot, Percy and Annabeth included. He had to blink furiously to make sure he wasn't seeing things, just to ensure that those stormy eyes weren't just a dream of his. He had to be fully sure of himself—who knew if WICKED was trying to trick them into something?

"Annabeth." It wasn't like a question, like he had said before. This was a statement, and a powerful one at that. Silence followed.

A full minute later, she cleared her throat, as if she too had trouble getting the words out of her mouth. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse. "Percy. I-I missed you."

Again, more silence. Not even Frederick and Gabriel bothered to pipe up, they too entranced by the way the two began to circle each other like prowling lions would. It was beyond uncomfortable for everyone but Percy and Annabeth it seemed—but it wasn't like anyone had worked up the courage to interrupt the couple's meeting. They still circled each other, the circle getting smaller and smaller by the second until the point where they were across from each other.

Percy's heart never beat faster, not when he was in battle, nor was he running for his life. It was racing at unbelievable speeds that he could never imagine, and he wasn't even touching her yet. But it felt like it did. He wanted every part of her, to stare into those stormy gray eyes for the rest of eternity. His palms were incredibly sweaty, and it wasn't from all the running that he did. Annabeth's breathing was ragged, uneven. She wanted it as much as he did, but she held back for reasons that she didn't even know herself. It built up all the tension, all the staring until it couldn't be handled any longer.

His arm snaked around the back of her neck, bringing her in closer, foreheads touching—she did not pull away, though her eyes were wary of the sight in front of her. He couldn't help but breathe in the essence of her, every scent that he could find, her entire aura. It was like he had a shock of ecstasy with Annabeth being back in his arms, out of harm. A fragile butterfly she was, flitting and possibly about to flutter away at any second. He couldn't wait any longer.

She was beautiful in every aspect that Percy could ever imagine. From the way her lips were pressed against his so forcefully to the way she touched his cheek as if he were some priceless object of her love. Percy could almost forget reality, as time had stopped where they were standing right there. Every kiss was feverish, passionate, burning. He didn't want to let go—staying there for the rest of his life sounded pretty great to him.

Ragged breathing and little gasps for air followed. Annabeth's eyes were closed dreamily, allowing Percy to take the reins with things, which he gladly did. His eyes were wide open—never did he want to let go and end the moment. Despite their chapped lips and dry breaths, every bit of exhaustion magically disappeared with the two of them as his mouth lured the other's mouth open, the peppering of kisses getting all the more intense—neither of them doubted that there was such a kiss that was so feverish and strong in all ways.

"I hate to interrupt, but we really need to start now," Frederick butted in, a tight grimace on his lips—I suppose anyone would feel awkward witnessing a very heavy kiss scene. "If you kids would have a seat, I will begin and try to get you home."

"Sure thing Dad," Annabeth replied, still short of breath. She couldn't have been any redder, her hand covering what they all knew were kiss-bruised lips. Slowly, she pulled out the chair next to her and sat.

Minho and the others were rather reluctant, but also sat. "Better be worth it," the Keeper muttered.

"Oh it will," the two scientists promised them. "First things first. Kathy, Annabeth, Aris, kindly hand over the Radiators that you so kindly stole."