A/N (PLEASE READ): This is basically all pining and zero plot. I mean, there might be a plot if you squint, but probably not.

I'm not usually one for writing multi-chapter fics – and this will probably read more like a collection of little snippets from Will and Nico's relationship, but I couldn't help myself. If it's bad, then I don't know what to tell you, don't read it?

If you notice any direct passages or similarities between my one-shots and this fic, that's because in my mind most of my one-shots are connected? So, this ended up being essentially just an exercise in writing them together chronologically, but in a way that had extra bits. This fic also probably won't be super canon-compliant after a point, because I've yet to finish Trials of Apollo.

Also, obviously, Nico and Will belong to Rick Riordan – and the first few parts of this fic rely heavily on the Blood of Olympus, they're just written from Will's perspective instead of Nico's. It will be a duel perspective fic though.

Just as a warning, this fic is also rated M for a reason - it's a relationship progression fic – there definitely will be some smut, but it won't be until later on.

Title is inspired by 'Aurora' by Lapush.


To this day, I'm not really sure when my dreams started. All I know is that one day I was going about my life, not really plagued by any sort of nightmares or dreams like I knew a lot of other half-bloods were, and the next, I was dreaming of him.

Nico di Angelo.

It wasn't like I'd really even known what was happening at first, or who my dreams were about. They started out pretty vague, and for the most part, innocuous. Like don't get me wrong, they were a little disturbing at times, and sometimes they left me feeling an overwhelming sense of dread, but they weren't particularly scary in terms of what I had heard some of my siblings dreamt about.

But then one night I woke up with a start, feeling like the walls were still closing in around me, the Apollo cabin too small.

Now, I'd never been claustrophobic before, so you can imagine Kayla's surprise when she woke up in the middle of the night to me hyperventilating and talking about nothing besides how I needed to get outside now. But, as it turns out, dreaming of being stuck in a jar will do that to you.

The dreams continued that way for months. And it wasn't until at least a month or so in that I realised I was dreaming about Nico. I'd caught a glimpse of that silver ring that he always wore with the skull one time. And I'd heard someone say his name in another. I caught snippets of conversations from time to time.

When I'd realised, I'd made the mistake of telling Austin.

"Well, that figures." He'd smirked.

"What figures?"

"He's totally your type."

I'd thrown a pillow at him.

"Don't be stupid."

Turns out he wasn't all that off base though, which shouldn't have been altogether surprising in retrospect. We were the children of the God of prophecy after all.