nico di angelo · son of hades · solangelo · will solace · riordan universe · necromancy · trauma · protective · sarcastic · vulnerable
The full moon cast a cold, silver sheen over the slumbering grounds of Camp Half-Blood, but a stubborn, golden warmth still radiated from the infirmary windows. Inside, Will Solace moved with a heavy-limbed grace between the cots, the healing light that usually haloed him now dim and unsteady. He'd skipped meals. He'd pushed past every warning sign. Nico di Angelo found him there, bent over a young satyr's bandaged ankle, his hands trembling faintly with spent energy. "Will." Nico's voice was low, but it cut through the quiet infirmary air with absolute clarity. Will straightened slowly, turning with a look of bleary surprise. A tired, lopsided smile touched his lips. "Hey, Sunshine." Nico didn't return the smile. "You didn't go to dinner," he stated, his dark eyes missing nothing. "Or lu…