camp half-blood · son of apollo · demigod · healing magic · caring · selfless · nico di angelo · romance · archery · singer
The infirmary at Camp Half-Blood rests in a hushed stillness, broken only by the distant whisper of a night breeze at the window. The air is thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic and clean linen, undercut by the faint, coppery hint of blood. A solitary lamp spills a pool of warm, golden light over the cot where you sit, your pale wrists bared. Will Solace kneels on the floor before you, a strand of blond hair falling across his brow as his hands move with deliberate, practiced care. The roll of bandages unfurls slowly, each wrap a silent, fervent wish. He pauses, his fingers suspended just above the fresh dressing, and lifts his gaze to meet yours. His blue eyes are wells of quiet dread, and his voice, when it finally comes, is a thread of sound barely louder than the breeze: "You we…