Warning: panic attack 

It's been two hours and Annabeth's still sitting in the same seat behind the desk in her and Percy's shared bedroom inside their small apartment complex in New Rome, and she still hasn't gotten anything done except a few simple lines.

Earlier that morning, during her morning lecture, Annabeth's oh-so-great professor had assigned her class a specific set that came with a set of directions that had been emailed out to every student. Annabeth had come home- Percy already working on one if his own reports for a science class of his in the living room- already carrying the stress of completing the assigned sketch and others she has to get done for Olympus upon her shoulders. She'd greeted Percy with a kiss on the head, grabbed a quick snack, then got to work on her sketches. 

And she's still her two hours later. 

Annabeth rests her head on her palm as she reads, with some difficulty, the next set of instructions and presses her lips together as she sketches them out on the paper taped to her desk in front of her. Her shoulders are raised with frustrated tension as she erases the much too curved line and tries again, the lead braking off the pencil due to the pressure she's using. 

Letting out a low grown, she jabs the yellow, number two pencil into the pencil sharpener to her right and starts to sharpen it quite aggressively. She blows the remaining dust off the tip of the pencil before continuing to sketch out the lines, keeping one hand flat on the desktop to keep her dominant hand steady as she does so. Annabeth sighs in relief as she finishes the line, resting her forehead on the desk but lifts her head back up to read the next direction typed onto her bright laptop screen, and she's once again frustrated. 

Her dyslexia is always bad. But she is blessed to have days where it's better than others. Today is not one of those days. Her grey eyes squint at the screen as she tries to read the black typed letters against the white background which is really hell for her dyslexia. The letters become mitch-matched and some swim around the screen, making it almost impossible to read, and she can't help the whimper that escapes her. Annabeth swallows down the upcoming cries, pushing away all emotion, as she attempts to add what she thinks is the next step, silently hoping that her professor either doesn't notice of understands that she couldn't read it. 

Annabeth reaches over and grabs her ruler out of the pencil holder and presses it down against the paper, her tongue peeking out between her lips as she adjusts it to make a straight line. The led of her pencil glides against the edge of the ruler, but when she pulls it away, the line is nowhere near to being straight and she swears the world is out to get her right now. Huffing angrily, Annabeth tries it again but ends up with the exact same result. 

The paper nearly rips as she runs her eraser across the thin surface, and Annabeth can feel the tears welling in her eyes as she tries to make a straight line for the third time. A curse escapes her as the line comes out slanted. What's she doing wrong? Maybe it's the ruler, she thinks. So she discards the ruler and tries just sketching out a line but it turns out worse than it had with the ruler, and she throws her pencil across the room with an outraged yell, not even caring that she'll have to wash away the pencil mark it makes against the light colored walls. 

She stands up with so much force the chair she'd been sitting on topples to the ground but she's too upset to care about it. Her fists clench as she glares down at her gods forsaken sketch that she can't find the ability to complete, and with a grown she rips the paper, tape and all, and crumples it into a ball, throwing it as hard as she can across the room, though it only makes it a few feet which makes her feel any worse. She bites into her lip but stops when she starts to taste the metallic of blood, and she doesn't want Percy to reprimand her again for biting her lips because it cause sores that you complain about nonstop. 

Tears are sliding down her cheeks as she stares at the crumpled piece of paper sitting silently in the center of her and Percy's bed, and her chest heaves violently as she gasps for air she can't seem to find, and she can faintly hear her boyfriend calling from the living room, "Beth, you okay in there?" but her ears are ringing so bad he sounds as though he's underwater. 

The room seems to start to spin as she continues to hyperventilate, and Annabeth slowly slides to the ground before her body has the chance to fall over. She's tugging on the collar of her white t-shirt as if that will stop the panic from seeping in and the sobs from protruding from her body as she looks around blearily, trying to remember where she is. All she's aware of is how the temperature keeps changing from too hot to too cold, and the walls are caving in on her, blood is pounding in her ears, and the room is just a mess, and it's too overwhelming and- she can't breathe. 

Annabeth's vaguely aware of the sound of feet padding against the hard wood floors of the hallway outside the room, but her ears are still ringing so it's muffled, and soon she's staring into gorgeous pools of sea green. Calming blue waves lapping through the green irises. There's also a familiar voice asking if she's okay, but when she tries to respond that she's definitely not okay, all that comes out is gaps of air- she still can't breathe and it's terrifying. 

Percy reaches forward carefully as if she'll flinch back and curls his fingers into her blonde hair, holding on tight as he asks her to copy his breathing, but she just- she can't. It's one of the most terrifying things she's ever experienced, and that's saying something. The feeling of utter panic but you're not really panicking about anything in particular, and you feel as though you can't breathe and you're trapped inside a enclosed space while everything around you spins and blurs into colored blobs. It's like a ticking bomb, she thinks. One second you're frustrated but it's tolerable and the next you're on the floor trying to stay grounded to the real world. 

"I-I can't!" Annabeth gasps out, eyes wide in panic and her hands are tingling uncomfortable as she tugs at the collar of her t-shirt. 

"You can," Percy insists, "You can do it." 

Annabeth nods, her curls brushing her shoulders as she does so and Percy keeps his eyes on her as she tries to keep her breathing under control but it's not working, and the panic starts to wash over her in blackened waves once again because she can't breathe and it's horrible. "I- I think," she gasps as the few words takes all the oxygen out of her. "I'm- I-'m going to pass out." 

She's so light headed she begins to sway and Percy's voice seems so far away and the room is spinning so fast is nauseating and all she wants to do it close her eyes, but Percy's firm grip on her shoulders keeps her grounded. 

"-beth. Annabeth! Deep breaths. In, out," he demonstrates. "Copy me, okay?" 

Nodding her head for the second time, she grasps his wrists in her hands, knuckles turning white from the grip she has on him but he doesn't show he's bothered, and she closes her eyes as she leans her forehead against his. The dizziness soon fades and the room stops spinning, and she can hear Percy's breathing clearly in her ears, her hands stop tingling and her heart raee returns to a normal pace, and when she blinks her eyes open, she can see more than blurred objects, and Annabeth nearly sobs in relief. 

Percy leans back and brushes the few strands of hair away from her face, his fingers lightly brushing against her skin and she closes his eyes against his touch. Annabeth keeps taking deep breaths, not wanting to be overtaken by panic again, when he softly kisses her forehead, keeping his lips pressed there for a few extra seconds. When he pulls away, she notices his eyes are filled with worry and his eyebrows are drawn together, and she's suddenly taken back to a few years ago out on the terrace after taking the knife for him. He'd been leaning over her, pressing the back of his hand against her sweaty forehead, his eyebrows all scrunched together as he frets over her injuries and-

"Are you okay?" Percy asks softly, breaking her out of her thoughts, his thumb brushing the skin beneath her eye and she leans into his touch as she nods. "What happened?" 

Annabeth reaches out with her arms and he pulls her onto his lip without a single question or hesitation, and wraps his strong arms around her waist as hers goes around his neck. She leans her head against his shoulder, eyes closing as she attempts at answering his difficult yet simple question, "I-I don't really know," Annabeth admits quietly. "One second I was fine and working on my sketch, and the next thing I know I'm on the floor trying not to suffocate." 

"Stressed, maybe?" Percy guesses, hugging her tight and pressing another kiss to her head. 

"Mhm," she hums in response. 

"You're okay now, I promise. How about you take a break? Maybe take a small nap?" 

Annabeth pulls away from his embrace but keeps her hands perched on his shoulder, eyes searching his face to see if he's joking, but he's not. The idea is so tempting: forgetting all about the stress and homework of college life and curling up against Percy in their comfortable bed as the warm Californian sunlight seeps through the windows- but she can't. She's got an early lecture tomorrow morning in which her crumpled sketch is due and she still has to proofread an essay before turning it in. 

"Percy, I can't." 

"You can," he repeats his early statement. "It's barely five. We have time. Let's take a nap." 

Grey and green gaze at each other for another minute or two, silently challenging the other, but Annabeth soon relents and climbs off his lap without saying a word so he can stand, and she doesn't let go of his hand until they're both laying side by side in their bed, beneath the covers, wrapped in each other's arms. She intertwines their legs, tightening her arms around his middle as he trails his fingertips up and down against her back comfortingly and her eyelids begin to grow heavy. 

"Thank you," she whispers before she can fall asleep. 

"You would've done the same for me," Percy murmurs, kissing her forehead once again. 

She bites back a grin and moves impossibly closer to him. "True." 

"Hey," he says, tapping his fingers against her back as her eyes flutter close and she hums for him to continue, "I love you." 

Annabeth doesn't try to bite back the smile tugging at her lips. "I love you." 

The smile widens as she feels his lips against hers a second later. 

-----

Whoa, guys. As I was writing the ending, When I Look At You by Miley Cyrus started playing. How ironic. Fits perfectly though. 

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this one shot! It's inspired by my own melt down/panic attack I had earlier today when I "ruined" one of my paintings that can easily be fixed, but I hadn't been thinking about that at the time. I was, you know, trying not to pass out. I know everyone's attacks are different but this is just how mine are :) and it reminded me of something Annabeth would do with a sketch if she was angry enough.