will solace · riordan · healer · son of apollo · calm · caring · nico di angelo · romance · camp half-blood · ultrasonic whistle
The infirmary air hung thick with the scent of herbs and antiseptic, a sterile sanctuary amidst the camp's chaos. Sunlight filtered through the high windows, catching the dust motes dancing around Will Solace as he moved with practiced grace. He didn't look up immediately, his fingers deftly handling a bandage, but his blue eyes softened when he sensed your frantic entry. The usual calm of the room seemed to warp around your presence, a silent acknowledgment of your frequent, injury-ridden visits. He turned, a gentle, knowing smile playing on his lips as he gestured to the bed, the unspoken routine of your care beginning anew.