pout

The soft glow of the ring light on Annabeth’s vanity illuminated her features, casting a warm radiance over her brown skin. She adjusted the phone propped up against a stack of architecture textbooks, her light brown knotless boho braids cascading over her shoulders in a messy, elegant tumble. She had already changed out of her daytime outfit—a floral sundress that had cost more than most people’s monthly rent—and into a silk pink slip that matched the aesthetic of her meticulously decorated Boca Raton apartment.

On the screen, Percy Jackson looked like the polar opposite of her pristine surroundings. He was leaning back against the headboard of his bed in his own apartment, his skin smudged with a lingering trace of engine grease that he hadn't quite scrubbed off his jawline. His blonde curls were a chaotic mess, and his blue eyes were heavy with exhaustion, yet they brightened the moment they landed on her.

Annabeth leaned her chin on her hand, her bottom lip jutting out in a deliberate, practiced pout. "I’m still mad at you," she murmured, her voice honey-sweet despite the accusation. "I walked into my apartment all by myself. It felt so empty."

Percy chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that made Annabeth’s heart do a little flutter. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking every bit the 6'1" mechanic who had spent the last four hours wrestling with the alternator of her luxury SUV. "Baby, I dropped you off at your door. I watched you turn the deadbolt. You weren't exactly in danger."

"That’s not the point, Percy," she countered, adjusting the strap of her slip. "The point is that you were right there. You had your keys in your hand. And then you just... left. Why didn’t you come upstairs with me?"

"Because if I came upstairs, I wouldn't have left until four in the morning," Percy said, a smirk playing on his lips. "And you have that advanced structural design class at eight. You know how you get when you don't get your eight hours. You start trying to redesign the entire campus on a napkin."

Annabeth rolled her eyes, though she couldn't hide the small smile tugging at her mouth. She was a genius when it came to blueprints, physics, and complex mathematics, but Percy was the only one who could read her moods so perfectly. He was the one who kept her grounded when her brain started running at a hundred miles per hour.

"I can handle one sleepy morning," she insisted, her tone shifting to something more playful. She leaned closer to the camera, her brown eyes locking onto his blue ones. "You’re just making excuses. I think you’re just bored of me."

Percy let out a sharp exhale, a grin breaking across his face. "Bored of you? Annabeth, I spent my entire afternoon covered in oil because you thought your car was 'making a sad sound' when it was really just a loose belt. I’d do that every day if it meant seeing you. You know I’m obsessed with you."

"Then prove it," she challenged, her voice dropping an octave. She traced the line of her collarbone with a manicured nail. "You’re sitting there in your apartment, and I’m sitting here in my bed. It’s a waste of a perfectly good night."

Percy groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow. "You’re killing me, baby. I have to be at the shop at six. If I come over there now, I’m not getting any sleep, and I’m definitely not letting you get any either."

Annabeth’s pout deepened. She knew she was being difficult, but she loved the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. Her father’s money could buy her the best clothes, the fastest cars, and the most beautiful apartment in Florida, but it couldn't buy the way Percy looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention.

"You just don't want to fuck me," she said suddenly, her voice a mix of a dare and a whine.

The silence on the other end of the line was instantaneous. Percy’s eyes widened, and he sat up straight, the playful exhaustion vanishing from his face. "Annabeth Chase, don't you dare say that."

"Well, it's the only logical conclusion," she said, leaning back and crossing her arms. "I’m sitting here in this cute little set, I’ve got the candles lit, and my boyfriend is miles away talking about 'work schedules' and 'sleep cycles.' It sounds like a rejection to me."

Percy swore under his breath, his voice thick with a sudden intensity. "You know damn well that isn't true. If I were there right now, you wouldn't be worried about your class, and I wouldn't be worried about the shop. I’d have you pinned to that headboard before you could finish that sentence."

Annabeth felt a flush creep up her neck that had nothing to do with the Florida heat. She loved pushing his buttons. She loved that this big, strong man who spent his days lifting heavy engines and dealing with grumpy customers was completely wrapped around her finger.

"Talk is cheap, Percy," she teased, though her heart was racing. "You’re all the way over there, and I’m all the way over here. It seems like a lot of talking and not a lot of... you know."

"You are a menace," Percy said, his gaze darkening in a way that made her toes curl. "A brilliant, beautiful, terrifying menace. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to walk away from your door tonight? You looked so good in that dress, Annabeth. I spent the whole drive home thinking about taking it off you."

"Then why didn't you?" she whispered, her bravado softening into something more genuine.

"Because I love you," he said, his voice dropping to a tender level that caught her off guard. "And because I know how hard you work. You’ve been stressed about this project for weeks. I wanted you to get a good night's rest so you can go in there tomorrow and show everyone that you're the smartest person in the room. I’m trying to be the responsible boyfriend for once."

Annabeth felt her heart melt. This was the problem with Percy; he was too good. He was a rough-around-the-edges mechanic with calloused hands and a loud laugh, but he treated her like she was something precious. He understood that her brain was her greatest asset, even if she couldn't tell a spark plug from a soul mate.

"I hate it when you're right," she sighed, her pout finally dissolving into a soft smile. "It’s very annoying."

"I know," Percy grinned, looking relieved that the tension had shifted. "But hey, tell you what. Tomorrow is Friday. I’ll pick you up after your last lecture. No cars to fix, no early mornings on Saturday. I’ll take you to that Italian place you like, the one where they charge twenty dollars for a side of bread."

"It’s artisanal sourdough, Percy," she corrected him automatically, a giggle escaping her.

"Whatever you say, baby. And then, we can spend the rest of the weekend doing exactly what you were just complaining about. Deal?"

Annabeth hummed, pretending to consider it. She adjusted her position on the bed, the silk of her slip rustling against the sheets. "I suppose that’s an acceptable compromise. But you have to promise no grease stains on my silk sheets."

Percy laughed, a bright, infectious sound. "I’ll scrub myself raw, I promise. Only the best for my Boca girl."

"You better," she said, her eyes softening as she looked at him through the screen. "I miss you already."

"I miss you too," Percy replied, his expression turning soft and adoring. "Go to sleep, Annabeth. Dream about buildings or whatever it is you geniuses do."

"I’ll dream about you," she said softly. "But don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," he winked. "Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight, Percy."

As she ended the call, the silence of the apartment felt a little less lonely. Annabeth set her phone down and looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror. She looked like a girl who had everything—the style, the brains, the life—but she knew the most valuable thing she had wasn't in her closet or her bank account. It was the blonde-haired boy who knew exactly when to stay, and exactly when to make her wait.

She climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up to her chin. Tomorrow would be a long day of calculations and critiques, but Friday was only a few hours away. And she knew Percy would be waiting by his truck, grease-free and ready to give her exactly what she wanted.