Yay for stupid plot bunnies! I'm in the midst of writing the next chapter for Love Pentagon, but I had to post this. For those of you that haven't read it, it's not as fluffy as it sounds. The first chapter is, but everything else is mainly humor... So this is one of my bad oneshots, but enjoy...as much as you can anyways.
Ice is cold, hard, easy to fall on. It's slippery and unstable, causing you, occasionally, great pain. When you fall, however, you need to find a way back up. Nico DiAngelo didn't find a way. He can't seem to do anything but reminisce the old times. He's not in the present; he's stuck in the past.
He remembers her warm eyes, which is odd, because they were the color of onyx, like his. Her laugh that would make Zeus himself feel giddy with spirit. She wouldn't let Nico give up, no matter how hard the obstacle was. Nico would scowl whenever she confiscated his mythomagic cards; that was the only thing that mattered to him back then. Monsters didn't exist, his mother was still alive, and the gods seemed to only become reality on a piece of black cardstock with a golden symbol in the middle.
Then she died. Crushed by a 10 ton piece of Celestial Bronze junk, they told him. He recalled almost killing his cousin, blaming his for her death. His mind was filled with memories of her smile, confident stature, motherly instinct. At that time, Nico didn't care if his mythomagic cards were all ripped to shreds by a hellhound; he just wanted his sister back.
Years later and he wasn't the little 10 year old boy that loved trading cards; he was the dark, deadly son of Hades that no one wanted to be around. He had all of 9 friends in his lifetime. 5 of them died, leaving him with only a handful of people to talk to.
He went on a journey to find his siblings, desperate for company. Hazel Levesque was the only one he found; she was Roman. No problem, Nico decided. I'll take her to Camp Jupiter. He told no one where he found her. In truth, she was supposed to be dead, but apparently she was given a second chance at life. She wasn't reborn, no, but Nico could care less. She could've been a hamster ghost wandering about the gloomy, grey shadows of the Fields of Asphodel and he would still take her in.
Hazel stayed at the Roman camp and Nico visited, but rarely. Every time he looked at her, Bianca would stare back. He would stumble through the dirt, covering his eyes. "Stop!" he would whisper.
Nico's teen years were unstable. He was a demigod who was constantly fearing for his life, talking to undead people at midnight, riding 300 pound hound dogs. HIs life was rough, and he wished someone out there would acknowledge him, the way Bianca did. Percy was his friend, so was Annabeth; but it wasn't enough to hide the pain.
People would brush against him and shiver. Everyone was afraid to be near him, afraid they would get hurt. He didn't have anyone.
He was like ice; cold and alone.
Annabeth couldn't understand. She didn't do anything wrong. No one hated her to a specific extent, she had tried to help everyone.
Why had the Fates been so cruel, ripping her best friend away from her? Every night she would worry about him, hope that he was okay. If her were here, he would smile goofily and assure her that everything was okay. The Romans are getting more difficult to cooperate with, and she was losing her temper to Piper's selfish ways.
The daughter of Aphrodite was her good friend, but the way she moped about Jason thinking about Reyna is too much. She had a boyfriend, he's still by her side, she thought. He's still with her. He's still here. Percy was one of the first in line to meet the Argo Two.
She beamed, finally able to end her quest in searching for him. Now she got her happy ending, she thought. But she couldn't help but think about the pain she previously went through. Waking up with a scratchy throat from yelling at the half bloods who started a fight, putting up a plastic smile to show enthusiasm.
She realized she was nowhere near her happy ending. There was more suffering to bear if she wanted to get to the end of the road. It seemed that even if that were possible, she would be and sliding all the way through.
She was like ice; slippery, afraid to break and drown the others with her.
She was like snow: Dangerous, but having the ability to crumble with a touch.
Reyna called herself a fool. She had fallen for Jason and didn't stop to think twice. Usually, as Praetor of the Twelfth Legion, she would think before acting. When Jason first came and was put into the Fifth cohort, she scoffed.
Why is he happy to be put in the worst cohort, she wondered. Reyna later realized it was because no matter where he was placed, Jason would always come through for his team. He soon became praetor, and thought she would never admit it, she fell for him. Reyna felt they could've been something more, if only he hadn't disappeared and lost his memory.
Jason came back with that wretched girl, Piper. Reyna wanted to wring her neck for merely being too perfect, but kept a calm expression. Praetors never act out. Ever. She learned to accept the fact that they could only most likely be friends and nothing else.
But not even her friends' reassuring words could stop the thoughts that wandered into her mind every night. He left and went off with that Greek girl, that Perfect daughter of Venus. He was like ice; cold without meaning to be. He froze her heart. And unknowingly shattered it into more than a million pieces.
They are like ice; No matter how many people fill them up, no matter how smooth the road is paved, they will always be empty. They will never be water, calm, carefree. They will always be ice.
And sooner or later, ice will always melt; no matter how frozen it was.