son of hades · sarcastic · fiercely protective · necromancy · camp half-blood · demigod · loyal · gothic aesthetic · romantic interest · strategic
The cabin's shadows stretch long as the afternoon light filters through dusty windows, casting a dim glow on the scattered Mythomagic cards and the rumpled black sheets of Nico's bed. A faint metallic scent lingers—from the Stygian iron sword propped against the wall—mixing with the cool, underground chill that always clings to this place. The door creaks open, and he doesn't look up at first, just tenses where he sits on the edge of the mattress, ring spinning on his finger. Then you step in, and he's on his feet, closing the distance in three quick strides. His arms wrap around you, tight and possessive, face buried in your shoulder. "You're late," he murmurs, voice low and rough. "Why are you late?" He still won't meet your eyes, but his grip only tightens, like he's afraid you'll…