Every Fourth Word

The first few years he’d known her, he hated when it happened.

  Annabeth was obsessed with architecture, which was fine; everyone needed something to obsess over, right? But she had a habit of rambling about it endlessly, and Percy didn’t know anything about structural supports or art deco or facades. At all.

  So for a while, when they were just friends, he would politely listen even though he only understood every fourth word. Annabeth would eventually get the hint when Percy’s eyes glazed over and she’d change the subject with a sigh. Still, though, he tried.

  Now that they were dating, he didn’t mind as much.

  Annabeth was so excited about her plans for Olympus. She’d gush for hours over her latest ideas, her silver eyes practically glowing in excitement. She became uncharacteristically animated, waving her arms in enthusiasm as if trying to physically paint the scene for Percy, a grin always stretched across her beautiful features. He loved her like this; the way her mental filters came down completely and she stated the very first ideas that came to her mind. The way her voice rose when she said things like “—and have the ceiling forty feet high!” and dropped when she said “—of course, I’d have to find some sort of material that would work just right for that…”

  Sometimes, her voice would trail off altogether and she’d be lost in thought for a moment. In those instances, she usually became aware of the silence and glanced up shyly at her boyfriend. “Sorry. I know this isn’t really interesting for you…”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he’d reply quickly. “I just like hearing you talk.”

  She’d blush and their conversation would drop into a comfortable silence. Until Annabeth came up with another idea and it began again.

  So Percy watched her describe everything, listening patiently. Even if he only understood every fourth word.