Our Oblivion


A/N: Hello everyone! I'm so glad that you all have tuned into a new chapter of my fan fiction. I know it's been a while since I've updated, but with classes and dealing with a bunch of issues last week I just haven't been able to write as much as I would like. I'm heartbroken to say that my Golden Retriever named Jasper passed away last week and I've just been really upset. It's hard to lose one of your best friends, especially when that friend has been with you since you were twelve. I just miss him.

Anyways, thank you once more for reading. And happy (late) Halloween everyone! Halloween is one of my favorite holidays! I've been spending the weekend with my family and me and my boyfriend went trick or treating with my younger cousins on Friday. We were Belle and Prince Adam from Beauty and the Beast! I hope you all had a great time on Friday with all your spooky plans (I'm such a nerd! :D). Have a beautiful, wonderful, fabulous, late Halloweenishly amazing day (who says Halloween can't last for the weekend too!). See ya soon, my friends! :D


Chapter 3: The Difference between Here and Now
Percy's Point of View
August 16, 12:02 p.m.

The rest of my day was hell. Complete and utter hell.

All I could think about was how horrible everything went with Nico this morning. Reminiscing back on those moments I can't believe how appalling I was to him. How uncompassionate I was. Somehow I managed to become the villain of today instead of the hero I wanted to be. I wanted to make him feel as though someone cares now, but my head just wasn't on straight. I have no right to try and be a counselor to him when I'm just as messed up as he is.

Leaning back in my desk, glancing over at my girlfriend Annabeth Chase, I caught a glimpse of the girl holding an orange pencil above her lips in the style of a mustache. I laughed and she did the same, but for me the sound is hollow. AP Chemistry has never been my favorite class and it's even worse when I feel like shit. All I can think about is Nico. Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico…

"Mr. Jackson, are you getting any of these notes?" Our Chemistry teacher, Mr. D, asked with a frown. The ever present frown that says 'I hate my life'. I nod absently in retort. He takes it simply, not bothering to check as he once again begins scribbling on the board.

Huffing out a sigh, I scrawl the first word on my blank paper and leave it be. There's no point in writing any of this anyways. I'll be dead in three days. Who the hell cares about fucking chemistry in the afterlife?

"Percy?" Annabeth chucks a wad of paper at the back of my head. It clips me slightly before rolling out into the aisle and landing at Mr. D's feet. He doesn't seem to notice in the least.

"What?" The words seem to startle her out of thought although she was the one who called on me. It's seems that I've just brought her back to reality.

"Are you alright? You're just staring into oblivion like you've gone stupid! Come on, Seaweed Brain! Get your head on straight!" The words pour from her lips in a torrent. I chuckle harshly under my breath at the nickname. She's been calling me Seaweed Brain for three years now- ever since we took a trip to the beach with her family during the summer a while back.

"I'm fine." I murmur, staring at her own notes absently. She hasn't really written anything either, but her lack of information is justified. Annabeth already knows all of this. Honestly, she knows everything. I can't even compete with her.

Not waiting for another reply, I turn back in my chair, slamming my notebook shut and shuffling to gather everything in my arms. The bell rings at that exact moment. I'm prone to knowing when the bell will ring, probably because I can't wait to get the hell out of here.

The entire class busts into a cluster of yelling teens and chattering girls. Footsteps echo out in the hallways and through the school as many of the seniors, sophomores, juniors, and freshmen fumble towards the cafeteria for first lunch. Running a hand through my frazzled hair I approach Annabeth who is waiting for me by the door.

"Ready to go?" She asks lightly. Her voice betrays the nervousness. I can tell that she knows something is wrong.

Taking a deep breath, grasping her hand, I pipe up, "I talked to Nico di Angelo today."

"Your neighbor?" She ponders as we trek down the hallway, voice hushed as though we were sharing secrets. I'm appreciative of her automatic attention to details. Annabeth must have a sixth sense. She already knows that this topic is something sensitive, even though I've never spoken about this to her before.

"He used to try to be friends with me when we were little. I always made fun of him. Told him he was stupid. Made him cry. And I did the same thing today although it was intentional this time. I feel like shit about it." My words are just a jumble of choppy sentences, sounding like so little but meaning so much. I can't bother to connect them, to make them into a coherent thought.

"Percy…I'm sure everything will be alright. In fact, I know they will." She subjects me to the mini pep talk briskly, sounding as though her words are racing to get a head of each other. She's in a hurry. She's waiting for something.

Immediately, I let go of her hand. She has a doctor's appointment. She's leaving before lunch. I remember that- it happened a few days before I died. Just a simple checkup.

"Oh yeah, Percy's I forgot to tell you. My step-mother is coming to pick me up for a doctor's appointment. I couldn't get anything before or after school so I have to leave like right now." Annabeth's face falls and lips lace into a frown. Her step-mother isn't her favorite person in the world so I assume that's her issue. Either that or she figures something will go wrong. I believe it's the first choice.

"It's fine." I assure, putting up my front and façade. That smile on my lips is as fake as one of those Barbie dolls that you buy in stores. I'm completely made of plastic, "I hope everything goes well."

"Aww, you're so sweet." Annabeth grips my hand for a moment giving a reassuring squeeze to get me through the day. Standing on her toes, me holding about three or four inches over her, she pecks my lips softly. There isn't really a spark like usual. For a moment, I'm flabbergasted. Every time we kiss I always feel that wave of butterflies in my stomach. I always feel the surge of love and unbelievable need, but now it gone. Maybe my mood is just throwing everything off today.

"Love you." She whispers. I don't bother to reply as she surges down the hallways and up to the office where her mother is waiting. For some reason, I'm glad she's gone.

Lunch alone is exactly what I need today.

By the time I get to the lunch room the line extends completely out and back into the hallway. There's no way I'm going to get through that dense crowd. Well, no way to get through there before the bell rings for fifth period at least. It doesn't look like there is anything good to eat anyway. Vegetable soup with half price meat, plastic vegetables, and wheat bread grilled cheese sandwiches that are burned and stale. Not to appetizing.

So instead of going through the entire line and get my fill of slop I refuse a tray. The vegetable soup made me sick the last time anyways. I don't want to be puking my guts out again like I did before. Getting half way through the line, close enough for the disgusting smell of burning plastic and over cooked meat to trickle up my nose, I simply take a detour through the cafeteria and exit from the back door of the school.

One thing this place does right: allowing the students to wander the grounds during lunch. It lets you get away. It lets you be free for a while. Of course, it's not the smartest idea. Someone could easily cut through the trees and round about back to the highway and hike up to town, even with the supervision of our three outdoor lunch monitors, but the teachers wouldn't do anything about skipping class. They don't care.

Opening the door with a single push, I am outside. It's shady, strange, mythical and mystical- light and dark at perfect balance. The smell of rain hangs in the air like a weight, holding over my head like my own personal thunderstorm. A perfectly dreary afternoon to top of my completely dreary mood. Rain clouds come to play again as I step through the back door of the school building, the first drops of a downpour leaking from the sky. Its days like this that make me feel hopeless. Its days like this when I know that things could get much worse. Its days like this that… Its days like this that I'm going to miss. I don't have very many days like this left.

Stopping short just beyond the first picnic table, a cold sweat breaks out on my skin as I see him. Nico stood at the foot of the bleachers beside the baseball field, eyes glancing up at the school building. Staring at the massive glass plates expanding across the windows and the worn rose bricks and the laughing face that peeked out of parted curtains, the lower classmen amused briefly as they made face through the shadowed window panes. He had an overall absent look on his face, as though he was deep in thought. A cigarette hung loosely between burned fingertips. Another thing the teachers don't care about. Smoking.

Just like one of those moody, emo teenagers in the movies, I thought and smiled shyly to myself. I can sense the adventure in the air, but also the danger. Nico is venomous and I know that, however, I don't mind provoking the monster. He probably hates me. He probably wants to murder me. But I don't fucking care.

"Nico!" I call briefly, watching as the boy jerks back like a dog whose been struck to many time. Like someone who is broken. His eyes flicker with that dark, stormy nervousness. His lips part as though he wants to speak, but the words are lost among the breeze. A tremble runs through his body.

"What?" He calls through the hollowing wind. That single word sounds like a sickeningly sorrowful lullaby. It's flowing, deep, and trickling. It's dark, passionate, and deadly. It's the whispering song of the lonely and broken and betrayed. It's everything that Nico di Angelo is.

Jogging up to him briskly, making sure to keep a distance however, I reply the only way I know how, "I'm so fucking sorry. About earlier, I mean. I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine." He says with a look of punishing blame. A crippling sense of hatred that I can't even begin to comprehend. But somehow I just know what's wrong with him. Why he has such a searing pain right now. It's not because I forgot about something so sensitive or that fact that I reopened the wound. Those are definitely supporters, but the main factor is that I brought him back to those days. The days when he was lonely- lonelier than anyone else in the world. It was the days when I would crucify him for wanting a friend and the days when he had nothing left for him at home. It was the days when he must have hated life so bad.

"Nico," I started, trying to calm the burning emotion in his eyes. They dimmed at least for a moment, "I know you must want to kill me right now. I know I hurt you. But there has to be something I can do to make it up to you. Absolutely anything you want and I'll do it."

Without thinking I also whisper something nearly inaudible under my breath, "By the way, you shouldn't smoke."

"You could get me the fuck out of here." Nico retorts with a snort of distaste. I can't tell if he is serious or not, "You could skip class with me. Let me out of this hell hole for a while."

Stepping closer to him, eyes being brought to the faint glimmer of his fading cigarette, I feel like I have now entered the den of the beast, "Fine, but you have to answer something: Why do you hate it here?"

"No friends, nothing interesting. I don't have anyone to talk to, I don't learn anything new. I already know everything up to senior classes. There's just nothing here for me. Besides, I could be doing something so much more interesting. I could be doing something that is actually going to contribute to my life. Not just learn the same thing over and over and over again until my brain goes numb and my sense are fried into oblivion. It's like they are trying to kill any piece of actual potential in our bodies. They're all a bunch of pricks." Nico didn't miss a beat with his response. I expected something along the lines of I hate my life or more of that emo crap, but instead he just spouted about how he actually had a dream that everyone kept drowning.

"You know what, Nico?" The boy stares at as though he is a pit-bull with a stick up his ass. He will bite me if I get to close, however, that's never stopped me before. "I think you need a hug. You really need a hug."

It's the same tactic I use with Annabeth whenever she's upset and now that I've tried it out on Nico he looks horrified. Eyes spiral with a red hot coil of anger.

"Don't. Touch. Me." He spurs through clenched teeth, slinging that smoldering cigarette around like a mad man.

Before I can stop myself I'm hugging him. My arms are intertwined around him, locking like a cobra's grip. A startled tremble ripples through Nico's form and a gentle whimper wheezes through those pale pink lips like a silent prayer. All I can think is how warm he is. Warm despite the chill that has slinked into the air. As warm as the heat from his cigarette that seeps through the fabric of my polo shirt as Nico holds it to my side limply. He feels so familiar, yet so foreign. And I can't say that that is a bad feeling.

We stand there. For a moment, for minutes, for hours- I don't know. But when we do pull apart Nico has a look of utter mystification.

"You're so frikkin' gay." He murmurs, a laugh hanging between those pursed lips. It's a surprising reaction to say the least. I didn't expect him to take my affection so well.

"That's not funny." I justify.

"Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"Yeah," With a flicker of his hand he drops the cigarette from his fingers, extinguishing the burning light under his boot. Nico tucks his hands deeper into the wide pockets of the old aviator jacket hanging on his shoulders, "It is."

I simply frown at that, knowing our argument could go back and forth for hours if I would allow it. Instead, I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose as I often do in anger.

"So?" Nico switches topics like we were flickering through scenes of a movie, the atmosphere changing with a split second notice, "Are we going or what?"

"Going where?"

"Going where!?" The laughter catches me off guard. Nico seems to double over on himself in a fit of giggles, "You asked me what I wanted you to do and I said you could skip school with me. So… let's go skip school. It's not a big deal. I've done it before. There's not anything that interesting to do besides side around, smoke, and grab something to eat, but it's better than here. So let's just go."

For a moment, I'm speechless. Does he honestly believe that I'll skip school with him? There is a pause of doubt as the overwhelming consequences roll over me. The repercussions would be hefty when I got home and my mother found out. And when Gabe found out… I merely shutter at the thought. However, I legitimately don't see a reason why I shouldn't. It's not like I have any time left to do stuff like this.

I won't have to face the fury of my mother and step father for too long. I won't be grounded or anything- my mom wouldn't dare, not with my birthday coming up. She would let me off the hook with ease. So, why the fuck not?!

"Fine," I said assertively. My confidence surprises me and Nico both, "Like you said, let's just go."


August 16, 1:07 p.m.

I have never skipped school before and I don't know why I proposed the idea of doing whatever, but I can say that the entire situation was riveting. Running. That's all we were doing. Running.

The air in my lungs comes out in brief puffs of air. Behind me, Nico is wheezing for breath, the air not coming to him easily. Told him smoking was a really bad idea. That jackass.

Without thinking about it, Nico grabs my sleeve and pulls me to a stop. I nearly trip over him as my feet continue to move faster than the rest of my body. For a second I am jerked out into the street, off the side walk, and drenched in rain. Immediately the cold gets to me. The slight drizzle has now formed a steady drip and the water is colder than one might expect.

Pulling me close to him, back under the awning of a local restaurant, I hear Nico sigh, but I don't get a chance to see the look of disappointment. My bangs are soaked and dripping down into my eyes like black oil. Tender fingers gently part my hair, pushing it back, and revealing the small, petite Italian in front of me.

Nico never came out and said it, but his mother was definitely Italian. I never had the honor of meeting his mother (why would I?) but I have seen his father multiple times and I can tell you directly that that man is one hundred percent American New Yorker. Either way, Nico's voice has the subtle hint of a stringy, beautiful Italian accent inside. He must have got that from her along with his darker skin tone. Well, his skin use to be dark when we were younger, but now it's that pale, creamy color. His skin color doesn't matter though, and neither does his voice, because no matter what I have the feeling Nico would be beautiful. His looks are undeniable. He's one of those tinier, curvy guys, but his rough edge and dark demeanor keeps that masculine tone.

I don't know how he keeps the girls from crawling all over him. He's absolutely amazing in every aspect of appearance. It must take a special kind of person to deal with his personality, however.

"So what do you want to do?" His voice is like nails dragging down my spine.

"Let's go do something fun!" I proposed lightheartedly, trying to brighten the mood. The look on Nico's face told me that he wasn't too optimistic about the idea. Of course, what would I expect from someone who I made cry a few hours prior? He was more likely to beat the shit out of me then join me for an evening of fun. But, then again, he had already agreed to skip class with me, so why would there be a problem with us actually doing something together?

Before I could recommend anything for us to do, Nico swiped a paper from his wallet and lingers it under my nose. Gripping the paper tenderly, trying my best to smooth out the creases from where it had been stuffed in his pocket, I read the heading with ease.

"Whoa, I haven't been to one of these since I was a kid! Did this place just open?" I asked reading the price at the bottom of the paper. Twelve fifty for each ticket, twenty three dollars for a pair.

"Yeah, it just opened up down the street. I was planning on going with… a friend of mine, but I guess we could go together. Do have any money? I got about sixteen dollars" Nico held out the crumpled bills with one hand, dragging some change from his wallet as well.

His eyes expand to the size of saucers as I close his hand back around the dollars with my own fingers. It's a got look for him- the innocent, curious, childish expression that shows just how much of a child he truly is.

"I've got it Nico. You don't have to pay for any of it. It's my treat." Tapping the back of my jeans for a reassuring outline of my wallet, I look at him with a smile.

"Really?" The look on his face is as bright as a kid on Christmas, "No one… No one really does stuff like that for me. Thanks… Percy."

The sincerity in his voice, the thankfulness in his eyes, it's such a grand sight to see. Especially when that sight and look is on Nico di Angelo. His smile is nearly captivating. After a moment, however, the spell is broken and Nico once again transforms into his grumpy, grumbling self, "Let's just go. Maybe we'll get a good spot in line. No one else will be there at this time of day. Come on."

And with that there is no more discussion and he takes my hand, dragging me up the street as the rain begins to pour.


"Okay…Now I'm not so sure about this." The waver in my voice was surprising. Nico looked over at me with a slight grin nipping at his lips, eye sparkling with a sudden zeal. I couldn't form words at this point. His smile, his eyes, his laughter- It was all captivating. The airy snickers that left his lips reverberated through the entrance to the maze like tiny bells, delicate and beautiful.

When I first realized that Nico wanted to go to the new Maze of Mirrors down at the amusement park across town, I was ecstatic. But now, with my heart pounding its way up my chest and into my throat, I can't help the nervousness that has engulfed me. I didn't know that we would be going through the maze separately.

According to the man who gave us the information outside the maze has an interesting feature where each person goes a separate direction through two different entrances and you see who makes it out first. Like a race. Although, I don't know how much fun a race will be when I'm running into mirrors and busting my teeth out whenever I hit the glass. I know this will end in injury. I just know it.

"Are you afraid, Percy Jackson?" The question caught me off guard, taking me aback. Nico tapped his fingertips against the glass surface cheekily, ignoring the sign taped to the corner saying do not touch the mirrors. In fact, his smile was now challenging, wanting me to succumb to his idea of a competition between us.

"Do you want to race through or something?" I shot back, matching his cocky attitude with tenfold the amount of heat and vivid passion. I don't point it out, but the boy must have a split personality. No one can change attitudes like he can.

"Try not to break anything." Nico suggested with a wave of his hand, "Let's get started, shall we?"

"I'll count. We go at three. One…two…three!" I called before bombarding through the opposite entrance across from Nico. I caught a glimpse of the other boy doing the same, swinging around the corner like a bat out of hell. My voice broke out a laugh as I raced down the corridor and pushed the black door open.

Immediately, my head was spinning. The mirrors were on all sides, showing the multiplied and magnified images of me. On all prospective I was getting a view of myself. Vivid, shadowy images that shone across the room and then expanded into three or four more.

Running a hand through my frazzled hair, my doppelgangers doing the same, I stepped forward cautiously. And ran directly into a mirror. My nose smashed against the hard surface roughly, knocking me back and off my feet. The ground met me all to quickly as my back struck the floor and my head bumped the mirror on my other side. As though on cue the lights overhead flickered a deep, velvety blue as I moaned out in pain. Before I could think about it, I called out.

"Nico! Where are you?" The words were desperate as they came from my lips suddenly. Even I hadn't counted on that. Despite my voice echoing through the lonely hall of mirrors there was no response. Instead I was met with a faint scratching sound as a generic track began to play on the speakers. The music was almost more excruciating than the fucking thought of walking always through this maze with my head spinning like so.

I wish he had never decided to come here. Nico and his bright ideas.

"Okay," I placed my hands out in front of me, searching for the smooth surface under my fingertips, "Where do I start."

Instantly the lights flicker again, bathing me in a deep ocean like green. It mellows me to some extent.

"Shit!" I curse out as my back strikes another mirror. It feels like needles against my skin. It feels so petite that I could fall through as the glass shatters into microscopic shards. Rubbing my forehead, trying to clear such thoughts and get back on track, I realize how difficult this actually is. I remember it being so much easier when I was little.

Sliding past another mirror, taking a direct path to the right, the maze suddenly becomes at least twenty times simpler. The trail goes straight forward- there is no confusion or dead ends like I expect. However, there are a few more bumps and bruises.

It took me about thirteen minutes to get through the rest of the maze. Well, the rest of the maze that I went through alone.

From where I stood further down the corridor, I could see a fork coming up. The maze ran in both directions now, not just containing me to one side. Instead of checking out both I just decided to go for the right corridor of mirrors and hope for the best. Moving further down the hallway, I once again bump a mirror, flickering around the side of it before turning briskly to the right.

I ran directly into Nico.

Despite the sudden surprise of the warm form pressing against my own, I laughed. His face was etched in a faint red as I looked down, almost as though he had been running. A slight sweat was peaked on his fair skin and a exhausted smile laced his lips.

"Enjoying your little adventure?" I questioned lightly, my hand gentle grappling for his upper arm and pulling him close. Slinking out of my grip Nico snickered again. His brown eyes were wide with excitement and wonder, looking perfectly childish. With that look, my heart swelled. Perfectly adorable. Complete little kid chic.

"I think I'm all bruised up." Nico admitted; face now shinning with a heavenly gold light as the bulbs once again swapped colors. I yearned to touch him now, wondering how someone could look so angelic. Immediately, disgust bubbled up in my chest along with that thought. How could I be thinking of him like that?

"I keep running into mirrors and falling down and hitting my head." He whined, placing a tender hand against the left side of his cheek. With a brush of his fingers he exposed the bright red skin beneath, showing off what would soon develop into a purplish, ugly blemish.

"I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. We shouldn't have tried this."

"No," Nico insisted instantly, voice hard set and demanding, "This was a great idea! I think it's kind of fun."

Grabbing my hand softly, cautiously, Nico pulled me forward. The feeling of his hand against my own, skin against my skin sent a shiver down my spine. It was one of those beautifully dramatic moments were the breath leaves you lungs all at once and for a second I couldn't function.

"I mean look at this place. It's like a wonderland." Nico spoke vividly, excitedly as he faced me, walking backwards. Before I could reply he rammed into a mirror, knocking him forward and directly into my chest. In the tight space I didn't bother to catch him, but allowed him to lean on me. For a moment, Nico had the wind knocked out of him, breath escaping his lungs all too quickly.

"You alright?" I questioned, my hand coming up and lingering on his shoulder.

"Fine…I'm fine." He replied with a wink in my direction although he looked disturbed and disoriented, "I'm so confused."

"Mirrors messing with your head?" I tap his head lightly. Swiping my hand away, now looking quite annoyed, Nico let out a hiss of aggravation.

"Let's get out of here." He demanded eyes dark and cheeks dotted with a blush.

"Alright, alright," I raised my hand in defeat. Despite the fact that Nico was suddenly a seething little ball of rage, I continued to joke with him, "You like a bottle of mood swings and bipolar disorder. It's like one moment you'll be happy and joking, but suddenly you go back into that corner like 'leave me alone or I'll stab you'."

"I'm not like that!" Nico cried, waving his hands in agitation. Suddenly, without a moment of prolonging, Nico dropped his arms to his sides and frowned before adding, "But I am hungry."

Sighing, pinching the bridge of my nose, I looked down at Nico. He was shooting me one of those bright, begging smiles. One of those were you show your teeth and try to look as innocent as possible. Another sigh.

"Alright. I'll buy you lunch. And by the way, the exit is right over there." I said pointing to the end of the hallway. A bright pink sign labeled exit shone through the mirrors. Looking down the hallways, sighing himself, Nico once again frowned.


August 16, 2:51 p.m.

Nico smacked the pizza between his lips, eating it briskly as though it was going out of style. I can't believe the boy's appetite. Luckily the place was a buffet or else I would have been broke by now. He had already scarfed down at least three slices of pizza and half a plate of bread sticks along with a third of a bowl of pasta and two refills of Coke.

"You're a pig." I fought back a torrent of giggles as sauce dripped down Nico's chin from his currently half eaten piece of pepperoni pizza. The boy shot me a cheesy grin (literally) and struggled to scarf down what was left of the slice. Picking up a napkin to finish off the leaking sauce, Nico scrubbed away the glob of red briskly.

"And you're an asshole." Nico murmured as he took another bite of a bread stick before dropping it to his plate. I think he needed that final bite to round off his meal. With a fulfilled sigh Nico stood up and stretched, bring his tray closer to the edge of the table as he was about to dispose of the trash.

"No. No, wait a minute. Let me get it for you." I told Nico, sliding out of the booth and taking the tray from his grip gently. For a moment, Nico lingers beside me looking thankful, but slightly bothered. I didn't know what the problem was and I'm sure he wouldn't want to tell me about it, even after all that happened today, but I immediately decided that when I got back I was going to figure out what was wrong.

Despite the thick shade of oppression that lingered around him, Nico mustered a smile, looking at me with lips laced in a smile and a blush glowering on those cute cheeks. Slipping down into the booth, allowing me to continue to the trash can, I could feel Nico's eyes on me as I walked.

It was strange to say the least. Even stranger when I began to hear the whispers from a short stubby woman in a booth across the aisle. Her words were like ice down my back.

"They are such a cute couple. Did you see the way the boy took his tray? How nice!" She murmured with a quaint smile. My heart felt like someone had placed it under a hammer, slowly chipping away piece by piece. Why would they think we were a couple? Why would she say something like that? Strangers were thinking that about us? Were they all?

"The smaller boy looks at him with a lot of adornment. You can see it in his eyes." A tall blonde in a college football hoodie whispered back, tapping her fingers 0n the table top idly.

"The one in the black sweater? He looks like a little sweetheart!" Another woman from across the table murmured as a bright smile attacked her lips. Before I could hear anymore, I reached the trash can and briskly threw the trash, leaving the trays in a deposit box on top of the square disposal.

Whirling around all too quickly I nearly tripped. Nico was directly in front of me.

"What are you doing?" A giggle bubbled passed my lips unwillingly. Nico simply smiled, tucking hands inside his jean pockets, aviator jacket hanging limply under one of his arms.

"Are you ready to go?" His voice was slightly husky, and the moment his eyes met my own I could tell something was terribly off. Something was more than wrong.

"You alright?" I couldn't help myself as my hand immediately came down, grabbing his arm attentively. He tried his best to keep up the front of a happy person, but it crumbled all too quickly. His lips tore down into a frown. Eyes drowned in sorrow suddenly.

"Nico?!" I didn't mean to sound so erratic, so out of control, but now I was worried. My hands somehow molded to his hips, bringing him closer to me in an embrace. For a moment I felt a burning heat searing through my stomach, like someone had placed a branding iron down my throat. My impulse had gotten the better of me. Whenever Annabeth is worried I have a habit of putting my hands around her waist or hips and bring her close and somehow that factor has crossed over to Nico. Before I can let go or apologize for the action, Nico has struggled his way from my arms.

"Let's just go." He labored out breathlessly. The blush that flew up on his cheeks was impossibly bright. His face was stricken with worry and concern and now confusion. Tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes, springing up impossibly quick. My heart jumped into my throat as I choked. Stepping away from me, making his way towards the exit, Nico was gone.

And the butterflies continued to well in my stomach from the embrace we shared moments prior. It's official: I'm fucked.