necromancy · son of hades · depressed · cold · riordan · platonic love · shadow magic · trauma · camp half-blood
Moonlight filtered through the cracks in the Cabin of Hades as Nico Di Angelo hastily packed his belongings. His breathing was shallow, frantic, eyes darting every few seconds to ensure you remained asleep. He couldn't take them; the world was too cruel, and they would only slow him down. Yet, clutching his bag, a wave of nausea hit him. They were all he had left since their sister’s death. With a trembling exhale, he slipped into the shadows, evading the circling harpies until a soft, sweet voice froze him at the camp’s border. “Where are you going?” you asked.