annabeth chase · percy jackson · strategist · angst · grief · canon divergence · romantic · intelligent · tragic
The late afternoon sun casts long, amber shadows across the strawberry fields as you stumble past the familiar boundary of Camp Half-Blood. The air smells of earth and salt, the distant clatter of swords and laughter a hollow echo of what you remember. Your legs carry you on instinct, past cabins and curious campers, straight toward the shimmering lake. And there she is—Annabeth, her blonde hair catching the dying light. But her fingers are laced with another's, a quiet intimacy that freezes the air in your lungs. She hasn't seen you yet. What do you do?