"I keep falling, I keep falling down...I keep falling, I keep falling down...Hey! I keep falling, I keep falling down... I keep falling, I keep falling down...If you could only save me. I'm drowning in the waters of my soul. There's nothing left to say now. I'm giving up, giving up, hey hey, giving up now. There's nothing left to say now. I'm giving up, giving up, hey hey, giving up now... " -Imagine Dragons, Nothing Left to Say.


It wasn't like he could take back the countless moments with him in it. The moment when Percy Jackson saved Bianca and himself. Although throughout the actual occurrence, he hadn't really thought of Bianca. Hadn't seen anyone else except for the boy with the shaggy, empery hair. The mysterious green eyed boy had saved him. No one else. Just him. And then the moment was ruined when he had seen the defeated, horrified expression on his face when the blonde girl had fallen. The way he had tried to save her. And at that moment, he just knew.

Percy could never love him. It would always be Annabeth. Ever since that moment, it had been them.

It wasn't like he could pretend it never happened. All those minutes spent with him. All the times when he saw his green eyes light up with vibrant amusement. The way his lips quirked up half way into a cocky grin. The times that he had to hide his blush whenever the Son of Poseidon was near. The way that he tried to convince himself that the small smile cast his way didn't mean anything more than just friendship. The moment when he knew he was in love with Percy Jackson.

And then Bianca, the only person who had understood him and accepted him was taken away.

Everything fell apart after that.

It wasn't like he could lie to Cupid. He was a God. A son of Aphrodite. He couldn't be tricked, especially not in the matter of love. What made it even more mortifying was that Jason Grace was there. Jason was normal. Powerful, strong, brave- everything a hero could be. He liked Piper. He liked girls. He was straight. Just like Percy. And still, there was that small glimmer of hope that maybe one day, perhaps Percy could love him in the way that he loved Annabeth Chase.

Lies were his armor. And Cupid had ripped away every shield, every arm plate, everything. Until there were no lies left, just the sick joke that was truth. He felt vulnerable. But no, it wasn't Cupid. Cupid might've been the thing that made him admit his lies and avert them to truth, but it was Percy's fault. He hated Percy Jackson. And he loved him at the same time.

The moment that Cupid was gone, he tried desperately to make repairs to the damages that had been done to his armor so Jason Grace couldn't see through his lies anymore. He had built it back up enough to tell him that it was just a crush, and he was over it.

He wasn't over it.

Percy and Annabeth. Annabeth and Percy. They were inevitable, invincible. They fell apart if they were apart from one another, were broken without the other. They were a pair. Two halves to a whole. Soul mates.

He fell into Tartarus for her.

Percy could've taken his hand. He could've been saved if only he had sacrificed her. If she wasn't there, maybe...just maybe... they could be something more. Just like Annabeth and Percy. Just like Percy and Annabeth. It could be Nico and Percy, Percy and Nico instead. But no. He hadn't taken his hand. He had stared down at Annabeth with such love, such an intensity burning and raging in his green eyes. And suddenly he wasn't there anymore. It was just Percy and Annabeth.

Percy would die for her.

Annabeth would die for him.

No one would die for Nico.

He was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

He tried so hard to hate Annabeth Chase. She had stolen him, even though deep down Nico knew that wasn't ultimately the case. Even if Annabeth hadn't existed, Percy wouldn't-couldn't be in love with Nico. Percy loved Nico as a brother, as a cousin. But not in the way that he wanted him to. He tried so hard to be cruel to Annabeth Chase. But he admired her so very much. She was strong and brave and loyal and kind. Annabeth reminded him of Bianca in a way. Annabeth was his friend. They weren't close, but he knew that they would be if he would let someone in.

Which he wouldn't do.

No one could accept him if he did that.

He was drowning in his own pity for himself. Just endlessly drowning, begging, praying for Percy to save him.

He would never do that.

But still, as stupid as it is, he continues to hope.

They find Percy and Annabeth, of course. They're bloody. And pale. And weak. And broken. But they had each other. The way they're eyes were gleaming at each other with such love. The way they were clinging to each other the moment that they could.

As horrible as it sounded, Nico had hoped Tarturas had destroyed their relationship. It hadn't. If nothing, Greek hell had made their love for one another stronger.

And then there was that moment when they had all rejoiced and were eating together when Nico had snapped a vague comment at the Son of the Sea God, and Percy had stared at him peculiarly, probably wondering if he had done anything to offend the Son of Hades.

Why couldn't Percy see it? Why couldn't he see it? Why couldn't he see the way that he cared for him? Didn't they have something?

No. They didn't. It's funny how Percy and Annabeth living through hell made Nico realize that. They both survived, and there relationship wasn't negatively affected. They had lived through the depths of Tartarus and they still were together.

Percy and Nico had nothing. They didn't have anything left, except a one sided crush. A crush that was broken, shattered, and complicated.

A crush that wasn't worth it. Not anymore.

He had to move on. He had to give up. It was the only way that he could survive.

He had to give up.

Because there was nothing left to say.