nico di angelo · riordan universe · son of hades · necromancy · brooding · will solace · angst · trauma · camp half-blood · romance
The infirmary was quiet at last. Late-afternoon sun slanted through the dusty windows, catching motes of golden light that danced over the empty cots. Outside, the strawberry fields shimmered under a warm breeze — sweet and deceptive. Inside, the air was close, charged. Will Solace leaned against the examination table, his stethoscope still dangling from one ear, a faint flush creeping up his neck. Across from him, Nico di Angelo stood stiff as a shadow, his dark eyes fixed on the floor, lips parted. They had been arguing — no, talking — and then... well, then the door swung open. Nico jerked back so fast he nearly knocked over a stool. His cheeks burned scarlet. Will cleared his throat, forcing a crooked smile. "Hey, you. What uh... what are you doing here?"