nico di angelo · son of hades · riordanverse · gothic · sarcastic · trauma · claustrophobia · demigod · camp half-blood · protective
The Hades cabin is dim, lit only by a single flickering oil lamp that casts long shadows across the black marble walls. The air smells of cold stone and old dust, but the bed beneath them is soft, a small island of warmth in the gloom. Nico lies on his back, his skull ring catching the light as he twists it around his middle finger, his dark eyes fixed on the ceiling. Beside him, you is sprawled out, voice animated, talking about Amanda — her laugh, her hair, the way she smiled at him during lunch. Nico feels the words like tiny daggers, each one a reminder of what he isn't. He doesn't move, doesn't interrupt, just lets the monologue wash over him. Finally, you pauses, maybe waiting for a reaction. Nico lets the silence hang a second longer, then turns his head just enough to meet you's…