Hi! ugh, I've been listening to too many sad songs with fanart of Nico in DX for some reason I decided to break my oath of NOT writing another solangelo headcannon/oneshot and finish the other one, but noooooo I just had to see some fanart and get a dam idea. Well schist. I hope you like it anyway. OH YEAH. I hate braces, at least they're getting rid of my vampire teeth. I CAN'T EAT APPLES. I CAN'T EAT STRAWBERRIES. I CAN'T EAT ANYTHING. I shall starve. eh, I can live. (Ihavebeensingingalongtoeachsongandwhenigottoanangelwithashotgunmydadtoldmetoshutuo XD) anywho, im swamped with homework (feel free to help XD jk) but enjoy!

Bianca's Birthday

A lone figure in an aviator jacket with a scruffy mess of black hair covering his face along with the shadow of being in the corner. He wore black jeans with clumpy black boots. The train carriage was deserted except for him, he'd unnerved all previously sat. His shoulders slumped and back bent as he listened to his music with his sword in its scabbard following his leg down to the knee.

If you looked closely, you could easily tell he was sad, drowning in misery over something no one knew about. Something no one would care about, at least, according to him.

The person who currently had a tear running down his cheek was the Ghost King. With heavy bags underneath, his eyes were closed, wishing he could just fall asleep forever, forgetting his memories, his emotions and feelings fading into oblivion. No one would care if he did, well, one might, but they'd live, it wasn't as if that person had an entire family, Hazel would soon forget him. It'd probably be an improvement to the world, it'd be better for everyone. He wished he couldn't feel, couldn't remember, couldn't love, he was already broken; he already had no reason to continue. His battle scars would never fade physical or mental, it made no difference. (AN: If you hadn't already figured it out, yes, I am listening to Battle Scars)

He was too deep within himself to be brought back by a golden haired boy sitting down next to him, putting his legs onto the table in front then placing one hand behind his head then the other arm draped around the Ghost King's shoulders.

The depressed and tired Ghost King flinched away from the physical contact but soon saw who it was. The golden haired boy smiled as bright as the sun down at the deathly glaring boy. Anyone else would've crawled away shivering from fear of slowly dissolving from the scary and threatening glare of the son of Hades.

The boy of sunshine sighed then shook his head, slowly pulling the crying boy into a warm hug. The Ghost King did nothing at first, but soon wrapped his skinny but strong arms around the taller boy and cried into his chest.

The puffy redness of his eyes was the only sign he was alive, his skin was paler than possible, as if he'd never seen light of any sort, and his brown eyes were so close to pitch black darkness it was hard to tell. His clothes clearly hung loosely around his malnourished frame.

When they broke off the comforting hug, the Ghost King looked conflicted, as if there was something he wanted to do, but wasn't sure whether to take whatever risk it was.

He stared up at the handsome boy, who radiated heat and light, with an affectionate gaze. He seemed to win the battle in his mind, slowly rising until he was nose to nose with the blushing boy, his earphones fell out as his knees were placed on the seat.

Both leaned forwards until their lips connected. (AN: OH GODS EEEEEEP I'M AWFUL AT WRITING THESE THINGS HADES HELP ME! IN FACT, BAD IDEA, I CHANGE MY MIND, APHRODITE HALP MEH!)

The Ghost King pushed the boy backwards until he was on his back with the Ghost king on top of him, his scraggly black hair hiding his face from any and all onlookers.

The boy beneath was called, Will. Will Solace. He knew why the Death Boy was crying, why he was more depressed than usual, why he distanced himself more than usual, why he reverted back to the way he was during his disappearance. Today, today was Bianca Di Angelo's birthday, Bianca... Bianca was Nico's older sister. The sister who Nico loved dearly, the sister who was the last family Nico had left, the sister who died. Nico Di Angelo, the Italian with the surname meaning of Angel, the Italian who was the son of Hades, the Italian who held the title of the Ghost King.

Will hooked his arms around Nico's neck, bringing him crashing down onto him, their lips touching again.

Nico smirked cockily; he melted into the shadows, bringing Will with him.

Soon there was no trace of the boy of darkness and the boy of light on the train, it was as if they'd never been there.

Let's just say, Nico always knew he was never alone, not as long as he had Will, he'd never succumb to the darkness again. For once, he knew happiness, well deserved happiness which would last beyond the end of his numbered days.

The End :)

welp, I know, awful, I tried! honestly! (Lullaby is now playing, music often changes my writing, and speed) I'd love to know what you think anyway though! Since no one actually spoke, feel free to pm me a question for it was most likely confusing, or if ya just want to speak to someone about something, I'm more than happy to help (aka, I only have geography homework left and so i'll probably talk to anyone about anything-within reason-so iI'm more than happy to help in anyway, I'm kinda bored :) hope your all well and cya later (Boulvard of broken dreams)

~Jojo :)