Hiya! Just need to tell you a couple of things before you start reading; First, for the sake of the story, Nico will be around 19. Obviously this means its set after TLO!
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and The Olympians, any copyright infringement was never intended.
My Never.
"I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year."
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Life is never easy.
I feel as if this is only true for me, though.
Why can't I fall in love with my best friend and have he love me back?
Why do I fall for what is impossible?
Why do I yearn to touch that which is not meant for me to touch?
Do I fall in love with the idea or with the person? Are they not the same thing?
Questions and more questions, yet not even one answer. Is that what love is about?
It's irrational, I know.
It's crazy, I know.
It's stubborn, I know.
It's sudden. It's me.
That's what scares me.
I can change everything around me, but how can I change myself?
Do I love him? My breath accelerates, my pulse quickens, my head says "No!", and I listen.
Why am I listening?
It just can't be healthy. Nod, smile, joke, take a look around, and repeat. My life becomes monotonous in my race to evade what stirs inside of me when he's near.
"He's not mine," I remind myself. I don't want to be alone, yet his presence is painful. My hand urges me to reach out and feel his skin.
His hair falls to his eyes as he gestures wildly while he talks. To those eyes that sparkle. I love his passion, but I know he is not talking about me. I nod, I smile, I joke, I look around, and repeat.
I catch him looking at me; it thrills me, but he talks of someone else and I realize he was just distracted.
He sits beside me, unaware of my heartbeat. It doesn't matter where I turn to or where I look at, all I can think of is where HE is, and the small distance between us.
He stares intently at his newest game and frowns. It makes me smile. He points at the screen, trying to explain the game to me. I have no idea what he says, but I lean towards him faking interest when all I wish is to close the distance separating us.
He smells faintly of smoke and chocolate. Edgy, yet innocent.
"Taking up smoking again, Nico?" I tease. He grimaces and I laugh as I watch him pop a mint. We both know Annabeth will kill him if she hears of his habits.
My eyes wander to his lips. I notice he hasn't been shaving, and find him more appealing this way. I catch myself wondering how they would feel against mine. I shake myself mentally and try to think about something else, but I always end up on the same thought.
Caught up in his game, he clenches his jaw. My fingers itch to draw the hard lines of his face. Instead, I turn around losing a chance I never had in the first place.
I point to the screen, ask a random question and he's back to teach me again. I trace the outline of his arms with my eyes. Scars from battle crisscross each other in a morbid dance of his past.
His hands move skillfully through the motions of the game. Sensing his excitement, I certainly know he's winning. I get tangled with thoughts of his arms around me, his hands on my waist, with how his smell clouds my head.
I'm drowning in it. It's dangerous and unknown. It's everything I love.
A light breeze caresses my cheek. I open my eyes, and realize I never moved away. My head is in his shoulder, his hair mingled in mine, his scent fused with mine. My hand is on his arm, while part of my brain asks if it interrupts his entertainment. He's still winning.
I blush when I realize I am awfully close. It's everything I've dreamt.
Why can't I enjoy it?
I turn away, pulling my legs to myself. My back never stops touching him, but the rest of my body complains.
How do you fall in love with your best friend and know when to cross that line?
My head feels fuzzy when he's around. Everything I'm not seems more noticeable; everything he is seems more detailed.
A voice in my head tells me to go for it, never to look back. I listened to that voice once, and lost my best friend. My lover. My comfort. My family.
Is it that love was never supposed to be in my life?
Am I not worthy? Is there something wrong with me?
The pressure is overwhelming; I need to leave.
So I do.
Being at his side is painful. Leaving is masochism.
The end.
Thank you for reading! Tell me what you think and who you think was talking!
I gave a few hints but who do you think it was?
=D