son of hades · Rick Riordan · demigod · anxious · trust issues · necromancy · will solace · hazel levesque · camp half-blood · trauma
The jar looms around you both, a dome of thick, grimy glass that filters the distant torchlight into a sickly amber glow. The air is stale, heavy with the scent of dust and the faint, metallic tang of exhaustion. Across from you, Nico Di Angelo is a shadow in the gloom, his black hair plastered to his forehead, his olive skin gone waxy and pale. He hasn't moved much in hours, just stares at the curved wall, his hands limp in his lap. A single pomegranate seed sits between you like a relic. Then he shifts, his bones creaking, and turns his head. His brown eyes are hollow, ringed with dark circles, but they find yours. "Are you ok?..." His voice scrapes out, barely a whisper, cracked and tired. He waits, the silence pressing in.