3. Piper deals with internalized homophobia
The ocean stretched endlessly before them, waves rolling in a slow, steady rhythm that matched Piper’s uneven breaths. The sky was painted with the muted colors of twilight—purples and soft oranges fading into deep blues. Piper sat on the edge of the pier, legs dangling over the side, her hands gripping the splintered wood as if it were the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
The salty breeze stung her eyes, though the tears already gathering there made it impossible to tell. Her heart felt heavy, like it was sinking into her chest, dragging her down with it.
Behind her, the soft crunch of footsteps broke the stillness. Piper didn’t turn around; she didn’t need to. She knew who it was. Annabeth always found her, no matter where she tried to hide.
“Hey,” Annabeth said softly, sitting down beside her. The wood creaked slightly under her weight, but the sound felt steady, grounding. Annabeth didn’t touch her, didn’t press her, just sat close enough that Piper could feel the warmth of her presence.
Piper’s throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak. “Why do you always find me?”
Annabeth’s voice was calm, with a hint of a smile. “Because I know you.”
The words broke something in Piper. She let out a shaky breath, covering her face with her hands as her shoulders trembled. She didn’t sob, didn’t make a sound, but the silent weight of it all poured out of her in waves.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out eventually, her voice barely audible over the rhythm of the waves.
Annabeth tilted her head, her blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight. “Sorry for what?”
“For everything,” Piper whispered, her hands falling into her lap. She didn’t look at Annabeth, her gaze fixed on the water. “For being so scared. For not knowing how to handle this—handle us.”
Annabeth was quiet for a moment, letting the words hang in the air. Then she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You don’t have to apologize for feeling scared, Piper.”
Piper shook her head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “But I do. You’re so sure about everything. About us, about who you are. And I’m just—” She broke off, her voice cracking. “I feel like I’m broken.”
Annabeth sat up straighter, her expression sharpening. “You’re not broken,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the crashing waves. “You’re human. And being human means you’re allowed to be scared, to doubt, to question. It doesn’t make you any less.”
Piper let out a bitter laugh, swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “I grew up in a world where people like us weren’t supposed to exist. Where I wasn’t supposed to…feel this way. It’s like there’s this voice in my head, telling me this isn’t real, that it won’t last. That we’ll never have a future.”
Annabeth didn’t respond immediately. She just reached out, her fingers brushing against Piper’s hand. Slowly, she intertwined their fingers, her grip steady and warm.
“Pipes,” Annabeth said softly, her tone gentle but unwavering. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, Piper turned her head. Annabeth’s gray eyes were steady, filled with something deep and unshakable—something Piper could only describe as home.
“This is real,” Annabeth said, her voice low and sure. “What we have is real. It’s not easy, and it won’t always be, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for.”
Piper’s chest tightened, her heart caught between hope and fear. “But what if I ruin it?” she whispered. “What if I mess everything up?”
Annabeth leaned closer, her forehead resting lightly against Piper’s. “You won’t. And even if you do stumble, I’ll be here to catch you. That’s what love is, Piper. It’s not perfect. It’s messy and hard, but it’s also beautiful. And I love you—every piece of you, even the parts that are scared.”
The words wrapped around Piper like a lifeline, pulling her out of the storm raging in her mind. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother wiping them away this time. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute.
Annabeth smiled, the corners of her mouth curving just enough to soften her sharp features. “Then we’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”
They sat there for a while, the sun sinking lower until the horizon was nothing but a soft line of gold. The world felt quieter, more manageable, as Piper leaned into Annabeth’s side.
Annabeth pointed toward the lighthouse in the distance, its beam cutting through the growing darkness. “See that?”
Piper nodded.
“That’s us,” Annabeth said. “No matter how lost you feel, no matter how dark it gets, I’ll always be your light. You just have to look for me.”
Piper let out a soft laugh, the sound shaky but real. “You’re such a nerd.”
“Yeah, but I’m your nerd.”
They both smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Piper felt the weight in her chest start to lift. She didn’t know what the future would hold, but with Annabeth by her side, she was starting to believe they could face it together.