Wiping what was left of the excess water off his now-damp face, Nico pulled in a shallow breath, body still fighting against him getting his much-needed oxygen. He shuddered with his inhale, pulling his chin up in an attempt to breathe in fully and regain some of his composure. Contrary to his desires, his almost full breath was cut off with a muffled sob, the pain in his chest approaching a revoltingly intense level.

The bathroom had almost become completely silent, the only two people in the space now face to face, wordlessly aware of the other's presence. The only sounds that cut through the otherwise tranquil atmosphere were the occasional sniffles of Nico's uneven breathing.

The kind stranger continued to stand there in silence, watching with a non-judgmental gaze as Nico clutched onto his slightly damp paper towel so tightly that the paper began to mold itself into a cast of his slender fingers. But all he could do was continue to hold on to what little he had left.

With his next breath, Nico struggled to completely fill his lungs once again, his chest quivering with the effort of fighting against the suffocatingly heavy lump in his throat. He wrapped his hands around each other, the paper towel at the heart of it all.

Paper was so fragile. Disposable. Flimsy. Mundane.

He might as well have been holding himself in his own shaky grasp. His fragility must have been apparent to everyone around him, and it was solely his ability to fade into the shadows that prevented him from being manipulated, or his lack of presence that protected him from the attention of others.

Thankfully, being alone had its perks.

The chill of the air-conditioned bathroom had instilled itself so deep in his flesh and bones that he may as well have forgotten the feeling of warmth. For Nico, warmth, both physical and emotional, was a rare luxury.

But Nico was far from being unfamiliar with the cold.

The biting numbness of the snow on the isolated park bench, gradually seeping into the back of his jeans, was a sensation that had etched itself deep into his mind. Hiding his tear-streaked expression from all but the rare passerby in the dead of winter, Nico pulled the top of his jacket hood even further down his face. The heavy pain stabbed through his torso with every second as all that his reality was comprised of collapsed. Pulling his legs into his form, trying to squeeze the feelings away, hadn't helped in the slightest.

As it turned out, the cold could never fully numb the pain. His own embrace could never replace hers.

Nothing could bring Bianca back.

As the months passed, spring came despite his desire for time to freeze accordingly, small sprigs of greenery peeking up through frost-covered sidewalk cracks. But her warmth, the smile that would stave off the coldest of freezing nights, remained long gone.

So what else was there left to do but learn how to continue following his frozen, isolated path with nothing but the hole in his chest?

If he really dug deep into his scarce recollections of tactile memory, he could still feel the warmth she left behind. He still remembered the way Bianca cradled him in her arms after a particularly harsh scolding—or beating—and the consistent reminder of her love continuing to melt down the walls he built up a little more each time.

But without her steady flame to wear down his apprehension and well-guarded defense, as time passed, Nico opted instead to bury his emotions behind a cool, stoic exterior. His vulnerabilities were cached away behind walls that only grew thicker and stronger with each passing day. In time, he had reached the point where very few people were able to get close enough to even begin to understand him on a personal level. No warmth was able to thaw the emotional vulnerability that remained frozen solid within him.

It wasn't all that difficult to maintain his self-imposed isolation. On the first day of classes, Nico sought out the seat as far from other people as possible. He donned his practiced hostile expressions in response to well-meaning introductions, curtly mumbling words if speaking was absolutely unavoidable. Pleasantries and politesse were nowhere to be found, "please" and "thank you" dying in his throat despite the way Bianca had always insisted on good manners.

Within days, he was met with the silence and apprehension that he had so carefully curated. The spark of recognition in the eyes of those who knew of him quickly turned into averted glances as he passed them in the hallway. Bullies seeking out targets after the last bell, like predators lying in wait, in the stairwell, behind the school, or in the bathrooms were met with Nico's intense fury, teeth sinking into hands trying to silence him and pocket knife slashing at limbs or faces that were within arms' reach.

The first day that his trek home was free of conflict, save for the scraping of his shoes against sidewalk pavement, was one of the most beautiful moments Nico had ever experienced. No shallow conversation could fill his mind with more satisfaction than the voiceless silence that echoed between the walls of his bedroom.

Until a voice like liquid gold melted through the cracks in Nico's demeanor. Warm smiles and contagious laughter weakening his desire to remain by himself.

Papers and writing utensils strewn wildly across the table, Will doodling on a mini whiteboard as Nico continued notating his sheet music. For a moment, the back of his hand brushed up gently against Will's tanned forearm, an accidental gesture that, despite its insignificance, still managed to anchor itself in his mind.

Large, lightly calloused hands laced between his own, Will's breathing in sync with Nico's own, sharing warmth in an empty house.

Warm. Will's hands were so warm.

Or the unforgettable moment where the mild warmth from Will's head in his lap set Nico's heart fluttering and his cheeks flushed, hidden in the darkened room.

When they were together, the time seemed to simultaneously freeze and slip away until they had to part. Somehow, Will had managed to match Nico's emotional frigidity with his own unconditional warmth. It was the little moments that were still etched in very fine detail within Nico's memory.

Before Nico had realized it, his vision had gone blurry with tears again as his newly-dried cheeks began to dampen against his will.

Against my Will? Nico thought bitterly, biting his lip in an attempt to make the pain drown out his tumultuous feelings.

Clearly I have no claim to him. I haven't even really talked to him for much longer than a week. What is wrong with me?

Nico pushed his face back into his hands, shoulders collapsing again as he felt the urge to ball himself up and block out the world again.

"Hey, I never caught your name." Nico jerked upright in surprise, having completely forgotten the company he was in. Heterochromic eyes locked onto Nico's bloodshot ones, a small smile playing on the other person's lips.

"I'm Nico," Nico squeaked out, not wanting to risk his voice giving out on him accompanied by another ill-timed recollection.

"Nice to meet you, Nico," they said, stretching out a hand with another dry paper towel. Nico gratefully accepted it, handing off his dirtied paper towel in return.

"I'm Alex, Alex Fierro. He/him pronouns today, by the way." He pointed to a small, almost completely inconspicuous pin, also bright neon green, displaying the pronouns "He/Him/His" in barely legible handwriting.

"You're lucky you caught me here today since I don't usually use this bathroom. Usually I'm wearing my other pin, but it depends on how I feel when I wake up." Nico watched as Alex turned to dig around in his light pink backpack and pulled out a neon pink version of the pin with "She/Her/Hers" scrawled on it in the same chaotic handwriting. Somehow it was even brighter than the one that Alex currently wore.

That makes some sense. Knowing how shitty people can be, no doubt he's seen and heard some shit about who he is as a person too.

"Come on, let's get you out of this dingy bathroom. Have you eaten anything for lunch yet?"

"I'll be fine," Nico said as he shook his head, not wanting to take up even more of Alex's time.

Alex smirked mischievously as he shifted his slipping backpack strap farther up his shoulder. "What if I said I know a way to get off the school grounds, past security, and we could go to the McDonald's two blocks down instead?"

The thought of his comfort food at a time like this almost brought tears back to his eyes.

Nico stood up, pushing his disheveled curls out of his face.

"Bet. Let's do it."


I pulled through everything somehow and I'm sincerely sorry for being MIA in the last four months. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter!