His dark eyes always followed you. Whenever he was near, it was like a constant chill had fallen over your person. At the same instant, however, you burned like a pyre set upon by the most flammable liquids imaginable. You could never understand why. It always evaded your mind's reach, like smoke. Even more of a mystery was him.
He hardly spoke to you, and if he did, it was in short sentences. In those times, you swore he would rather be on the other side of the world than anywhere near you. He hated you, you were sure. But somehow, someway… You felt his eyes on you anyway. You could practically see them in your mind's eye. Black as pitch, and so solemn, so serious. They had a certain glint, like a cross between a madman and a genius. You could never decide which. Why would he feel the need to watch someone he hated? You had yet to figure it out. Two years at Camp Halfblood and you still couldn't put your finger on it, on him. Nico di Angelo was an enigma.
You were almost afraid to try and figure him out due to the aura he gave off almost constantly. It wasn't the rumors. They did no better justice to the boy himself. Were all children of Hades this… Morbid and unapproachable? Maybe it was because you were a daughter of Hermes. You didn't know the history between children of Hermes and Hades, but it now sparked your curiosity.
He really only interacted with you during sparring, but that was the exception. Being squared up against a son of the Big Three almost made you proud, but his technique dampered that pretty quickly.
He seemed out to annihilate you almost every time, and you wondered if you were lucky and gifted to be paired with him most days, or just plain hated by the instructor. Each time you blocked and parried, he only came at you harder, faster. It took all you had to keep up with him so that you wouldn't be skewered, made a husk from his soul-sucking Stygian iron sword. You idly wondered if that feature was only for monsters.
Now, today he seemed even more frustrated with you than usual. His blade whistled over your head particularly fast, and you barely managed to move out of the way in time. Your blades clashed and he grunted.
You didn't dare back down, however, your blades sliding together with a metallic crackling. It wasn't much different from the way his eyes bore into yours. This time, you wouldn't let him have the victory. Right when it seemed your muscles would buckle under the strain, your leg swept out and wound around his, attempting to trip him. It staggered him, which was definitely better than nothing. The hilt of your sword jabbed him in the stomach, as he was too slow to counter it. He fell with a pained groan, and began to force himself up, sword and all. You slammed the flat of your blade onto his shoulder and knocked him backwards, straddling him with your sword to his throat.
You stared at each other, chests heaving. He was surprised, and you noted with idle fascination that his eyes were actually a rich dark brown, like coffee, or burnt caramel. By the time his hand reached your thigh, the instructor called off the rest of the campers in the sparring area.
It seemed to snap him out of it, and he pushed you to the side, sitting and standing up, sheathing his sword. As the blade passed, you shivered at the cold it gave off. You looked up at him in confusion, but he simply stalked off, hands shoving into the pockets of his aviator jacket. The instructor clapped his hands. "Alright, done for the day! Good work, demigods. Remember to practice every day, even if you don't have a sparring partner."
With that, the rest of the campers dispersed, off to their next lessons. You had already climbed the rock wall, and attended your archery class. You also cleaned the stables early this morning, so that left you with… Probably canoeing before dinner. You sighed, sheathing your own celestial bronze sword as you stood. Your knees were weak, but you ignored the most prominent reason for it. You made your way to the lakeshore to grab a canoe. By the time you were finished with your laps across the lake, the conch horn was blowing, signalling dinner. You climbed out of your canoe and stretched, jogging to the pavilion.
A shower would have been nice first, but you would just have to take a quick one before the sing along and campfire. Once you got to the dining pavilion, you pointedly ignored the son of Hades, who apparently decided to show up on time for once. You got your food and scraped a portion into the offering fire for your god parent, before sitting down with your cabinmates and siblings at the crowded Hermes table. You ordered Coke to appear in your goblet halfway through your meal, and by the time you were finished, half of the dining pavilion had emptied out.
You left promptly, stopping by the Hermes cabin to grab your toiletries for the shower. You took a 10 minute shower, joining the other campers for the sing along afterwards. Nico wasn't there tonight, but that wasn't unusual in the slightest. He tended to avoid most of the camp if he could manage it. As you made your way back to the cabin early though, that sensation cropped up again. Your fingers itched for your sword.
You'd taken up the habit of carrying it with you everywhere, because where there weren't monsters, there were the Stolls. You were halfway there when you drew your sword and whipped around. Your celestial bronze clashed with ebony Stygian iron, throwing sparks with the force. You scowled at Nico, who only stared back at you. "Easy," he murmured, drawing his sword away from yours and sheathing it on his back.
You didn't do the same right away, eyeing him warily. "What do you want?" You asked impatiently. He didn't show any reaction other than a small downward quirk of his lips. "Come to my cabin," he said quietly after stealing a look around. You raised your eyebrows at him inquisitively. Tingles shot up your spine, alert and screaming discomfort. Why would he want you anywhere near him, let alone his cabin? When you didn't answer, he stepped forward and grabbed your arm. Immediately, darkness closed in around you and you felt as if you were being squeezed through a small tube. It was almost painful, and claustrophobic.
Right as you wanted to gasp for air, it stopped, and you were in a dim room. Greek fire burned, casting a green glow. Nico let you go and you spun. It was a dark room in every sense of the word. Black walls, black furniture, black bed. You must have been in the Hades cabin, number 13. You turned to gawk at him. "What the hell, you lunatic! I didn't say yes!" He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed you with a look that would have made your insides wither, you were sure. You swallowed. "… Why do you want me here? You hate me, di Angelo. Or is this your special brand of friendship but you neglected to tell me?" He frowned. "Hate you?" He sounded genuinely confused. "I don't hate you, (Name)."
"Could have fooled me," you scoffed. He sighed, and gestured to a chair. "Just sit down and I'll explain." You sat stiffly, never taking your eyes off of him as he shed his aviator jacket. You wondered where he'd gotten it, eyeing its worn leather. He seemed to notice as he hung it on a hook near the door. He turned and walked over, sitting on the foot of his bed a handful of feet from you.
He bit his lip softly, and you noticed that he was twisting his life-like silver skull ring around his left middle finger. "My mother and sister gave it to me. It was all we could afford before World War II." Your eyes widened so much, you were almost worried they would pop right out of your sockets like pool balls. "What? How is that even possible? You're-You're my age! Sixteen. How could you have…" Nico kept looking at his sneakers. His eyes seemed to be burning holes in the rubber tops.
"Do you know about the Lotus Hotel and Casino?" He asked quietly, making you start. "Yeah, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were trapped there for a while, apparently. It makes you lose track of time and… Freezes you in it." By the time you finished the sentence, the realization was dawning on you. "You would have to be at least eighty years old."
Nico looked up at you under his bangs. "I look pretty good for my age, huh? It was before World War II broke out. My mother was killed by Zeus and Hades put my sister and I in the Lotus until the time was right. I was only ten. By the time we were let out, it was 2007. Seventy years passed. I was still ten years old, my sister Bianca, thirteen. We were taken to a boarding school, Westover Hall. We weren't there even a few months before a manticore attacked the school. That's when Percy found us, and took us to Camp Halfblood.
"Bianca joined the Hunters of Artemis and left me here." Even from where you sat, you could see his eyes darkening. "That's what killed her. Everything changed after that." You were speechless. You knew he was different but this was another matter entirely. "S-So you're like… A time traveler. From the 20th century. And that jacket, that's the only thing you have left of your family… I'm sorry I brought it up." You hadn't felt this bad for a long time. He'd been through so much and you only brought his scars to the surface.
The son of Hades only shook his head. "Anyway, I brought you here to explain more than this. Look. I don't hate you. I just… I just don't know what to do with you. There's something about you that repels me, (Name). I don't like to get close enough to figure out what it is, though." You gaped at him. You… repelled him?
You stood up. "Well, I'm sorry I'm so disgusting to you, but you don't have to force yourself by being close to me." You made your way to the door. "(Name), wait. I didn't mean it like that. (Name), wait." Footsteps pounded behind you and his hand fell on your shoulder, turning you around.
Against your better judgment, your hand shot out the same direction as you turned, as if to backhand him. Nico caught it and pinned both your hands to your stomach. "(Name). Calm down. I didn't mean it that way. I meant I don't know what to say around you, so I try to keep my distance." His baritone washed over you in this close proximity, setting the hairs on the back of your neck tingling. "I don't want you to leave me too. If I get close to you, that's what will happen."
You sucked in a bated breath. "And acting like you hate me will prevent that?" Your voice was nary above a whisper, the fire dying in your veins as quickly as it kindled. He glanced away. "No. But it's better than letting trust cloud my judgment too soon."
You didn't have an answer to that. He anticipated whoever got close to him to leave him just like that. You could understand why, but to risk you coming to hate him? "Nico," you started quietly. "I understand, but you run the risk of those people hating you. You're really misunderstood, but you're helping it along by pushing people away like that." He loosened his grip on your wrists, but not once did he let go. "You've been through a lot, and your fears are justified, but trust me when I say that you can't live in fear."
He looked shocked, and didn't stop you when you finally gently pried your wrists from his hands. However, as you stepped out the door, his fingers caught the hem of your T-shirt. You turned. "Thank you," he said, his dark eyes sincere. You found yourself smiling softly at him. "I don't think this will be the last time I'll have to talk to you like this. Good night." With that, you left him standing there in the doorway of his cabin, staring after you with a new perspective set in motion.
