𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ¥ 𝐏𝐉𝐎

𝐢. 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥? (𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐟)

TRIGGER WARNING: self harm. I forgot to put this before but I'll do it after I post this. Percy self-harms, she does it regularly by picking at her skin, specifically at her knuckles and the backs of her hands. Sometimes she pulls her hair. It's is mostly unintentional but there some intentional moments.

"...𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠..."

𝟏.𝟏

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍

PERCY TOOK ONE LOOK AT THE DAUGHTER OF ZEUS AND KNEW THEY WEREN'T GONNA BE FRIENDS. It wasn't like she had done anything or said anything, but she had given Percy this annoyed almost dismissive look when she opened the apartment door to let her and Annabeth in. It caused Percy to immediately bristle defensively and for Annabeth to lead her away into her bedroom to separate them before someone ended up with a hole in the head.

"I don't like her," she said bluntly when Annabeth shut the door behind the both of them.

"She doesn't like you either, you guys are already bonding," the blonde huffed sarcastically, rolling her storm could eyes.

"I haven't even talked to her."

"And yet you still don't like her—."

"—she gave me a look!" Percy defended, crossing her arms over her chest, and tilting her chin up hotly.

"Percy," Annabeth started with a desperate look, combing a hand through her hair, her unruly blonde curls spilling about with no rhyme or reason and Percy's fingers twitched to fix it, "I am begging you. I can't handle sitting in a car for the next eight hours with the two of you fighting like dogs—I will throw myself out of the car and go splat on the road—do you want me to go splat on the road?!"

Percy blinked slowly at her, watching her right eye twitch with exasperation. It made her wonder if Thalia talked her ear off the entire way there. She pursed lips, "Fine," she conceded.

"Thank you," Annabeth sighed. "How are you by the way?"

"I'm ...fine—my mom already told you, didn't she?" Percy grumbled when she saw the probing look in the blonde's eyes.

"Grover let it slip that your side of the bond has been...gloomy,"Annabeth said, "and your mom confirmed it yesterday. I also noticed the bags under your eyes when I called you last week."

Percy's hand immediately snapped up to touch the delicate skin beneath her eyes and turned to look at herself in the mirror, feeling a chip of dread make home in her throat.  She swallowed it down thickly, resisting the urge to cover up more, to hide more. What else was there to hide? She had carefully taken time to cover up the signs of exhaustion—of agony, of anxiety, tried to hide who she was but there were cracks in her porcelain—the steel was starting to shine through.