-Nico-

The first hour of the sleepover was uneventful. I couldn't decide whether that was a relief or a disappointment.

Will and I had shyly said our goodnights and were now lying awake in silence, him in the bed across from mine. The night was filled with the chirping of crickets and the crackling of fire. It would've been peaceful if not for the chaos in my mind. As I'd expected, my brain was too busy running scenarios and contemplating the unknown to let me fall asleep. I wondered if something similar was keeping Will up.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, his hushed voice echoed through the room: "Nico?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

Will didn't answer. Concerned, I turned to look at him. My heart jumped when I saw that he was already lying on his side and watching me. Thanks to the thin streams of Greek fire that trailed along my father's shrine, the inside of the Hades cabin was never pitch black - a feature that I appreciated after almost shadow-traveling myself into oblivion. The green firelight was casting sharp shadows on his face.

Before I could figure out what to say, he discarded his covers and came over to me. I propped myself up on one arm, but he made a dismissive gesture. Then he sat on the floor next to my bed and rested his arms alongside my pillow to make a cradle for his head. Bewildered, I lied on my side again so I could look at him properly. Our faces were only a few inches apart. "What's wrong?" I asked him, unnerved.

My boyfriend seemed to be too lost in thought to answer. Spellbound by his unusual stillness, I drank him in. The fire flickered across his face and turned his blond curls a deep mossy green. His calm eyes looked much darker in the low light. But what really struck me was the way he was gazing into my soul - and baring his own to me - without a hint of reserve. He seemed completely at ease, being so close to me in the dark. The realization swept over me like a balmy ocean wave, jarring but pleasant. I kind of wanted him to keep staring, so I would have an excuse to do the same.

"You're not sleeping," he said at last.

Several responses popped into my head. I chose the least sarcastic one. "Neither are you."

Will seemed to ignore that. His warm hand came to rest on my forehead. "Your headache is back."

I raised my eyebrows. "You can sense that?"

He frowned as his power chased away the pain again. "I can sense a lot of things. Why didn't you say anything?"

"It wasn't as bad as it was before. I didn't want to bother you."

That emotion in his eyes was tricky to read, but I think it was something like disappointment. His gaze drifted to my forehead, and the warmth of his hand followed. I held my breath as he twirled a strand of my hair between his fingers. We stayed like that for a count of ten, with me trying to figure out how to breathe properly and him playing with my hair like he had all the time in the world. When he spoke again, he still wasn't looking at me, and his voice was torn between gloom and frustration.

"How am I supposed to help you if you don't tell me what's wrong?"

A mix of wonder, guilt, and nervousness rippled through me. Wonder, because this moment felt more intimate than any of the physical contact or deep conversations that we'd had before. Nervousness, because I knew exactly what he was getting at. And guilt, because I knew he was right.

"I'm sorry."

Will continued toying with my hair. It started to bother me that he wasn't meeting my eyes. When I realized he was waiting for me to keep talking, my mouth went dry, and my stomach squirmed. I didn't want to give him another reason to worry, but the weight of the truth somehow didn't feel as heavy as this crushing silence. I suddenly suspected that hiding this from him might actually be stressing him out more.

"It's a warning - the headache, and the ringing. I think my powers are trying to tell me something."

Will lifted his head like a prey animal on high alert. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting that. I held back a noise of protest as his hand left my hair. "You mean like a prophetic dream?" He asked soberly.

"Sort of, but less helpful. I don't know what's going to happen or who it'll happen to. But it'll happen soon, and it's not going to be good."

That statement seemed to make him queasy. "Should we warn the camp? We could prepare..."

"I don't think it would make a difference. We don't even know what to prepare for. Hell, for all we know, the preparations could cause it."

As that depressing reality sunk in, his expression shifted from anxiety to reluctant defeat. Guilt tugged on my insides as he let out a shaky sigh, but the feeling faded when he said sweetly, "Thank you for telling me. I'm glad you did."

As he spoke, he reached out to smooth a tuft of hair on the side of my head. The contact sent a jolt through my nervous system. Will was a professional at finding excuses to touch me - my hands, my hair, my face. The old me would've rejected those simple signs of affection. Now, the thought of living without them made me feel cold and empty.

"I wanted to tell you earlier," I admitted, blushing a little. "I just didn't want you to worry."

He scrutinized me for another moment. Then a small smile softened the lines on his face. "Is that why you asked me to stay the night? Because you were worried about me?"

My face must have answered for me, because his smile grew, and he gave me another peck on the forehead. It was enough to fill me with butterflies, but I was kind of disappointed that he didn't go for my lips. As he pulled away, taking the warmth of his kiss with him, an idea struck me. I fidgeted and tugged the covers tighter around my arms. Will zeroed in on the movement like a Hellhound catching a scent.

"Are you cold?"

I shrugged and avoided his eyes. "A little."

He placed a hand on my forehead again. "Huh. Your temperature seems normal."

That wasn't the response I'd been hoping for. "Weird," I agreed, trying to cover up my disappointment.

Will's eyes scoured my face like he was searching for something that he could fix. Then he snapped, "Oh, for Elysium's sake, move over."

I pursed my lips against a grin as I made room for him in my bed. Without any hesitation, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. Giddy from my success, I nestled my head against his chest and gave a sigh of contentment.

My boyfriend chucked knowingly. "Better?"

"You make everything better."

As soon as the words left my lips, blood rushed to my face, and I winced. I expected Will to laugh and push me away - or at least tease me for being an absolute sap. He did move away, but only enough so he could look at my face. I was too embarrassed to translate the emotion behind his smile. "That was supposed to stay in my head," I informed him in a withering mumble. But I was grateful for the slip up when his fingers brushed against my chin and he pressed his lips to mine.

Kissing him was a blissful distraction. It allowed me to ignore the bleak future and lose myself in the much cozier present. But somewhere in a dark corner of my mind, it occurred to me how attached I'd let myself get to this particular person. After Bianca had died, I'd done my best not to open up my heart to anyone else...until recently. The thought trickled through me like a steady drip of ice water, tainting the warm and fuzzy feeling. Defiantly, I burrowed closer to my boyfriend and laced my fingers through his. He didn't seem to mind.

When we broke apart, Will didn't go far. Our noses were almost touching as he smiled at me like he couldn't imagine a better way to spend the night. The prolonged eye contact made me blush, which made him smile more. Despite my racing pulse, I couldn't help but mirror his joy. We stayed like that for a few seconds more, just enjoying each other's closeness, until I felt compelled to break the silence.

"What are you thinking?"

Will's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Something that should probably stay in my head," he admitted.

"Say it," I dared him.

He pursed his lips like he was considering it. Then he said, "Nah."

"How am I supposed to know if you don't tell me?" I echoed innocently.

His eyes narrowed into slits. "Are you using my words against me?"

"You do it to me all the time," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but you deserve it."

"So do you!"

He pretended to be offended. "Oh, do I?"

"Remember right after the Giant War, when your siblings had to kick you out of the infirmary because you hadn't slept for three days straight?" Will put on a disgruntled look to disguise his shame, but I wasn't done yet. I parroted him in a singsong voice: "You have to start taking better care of yourself! I know that I only had half an apple for dinner, and I went to bed at two in the morning and still got up at sunrise like always, but you should really-"

Will chose that moment to retaliate. I yelped and jerked away as he made a valiant attempt to tickle me. I couldn't help but laugh - in part because he'd succeeded and in part because of his childishness. I managed to swat his hands away. When he came back for round two, I grabbed his wrists and pinned them together. As he fought to break my grip, I accused him, "You're only doing this because you know I'm right!"

Will huffed and stopped struggling. "Whatever. I never said I was perfect."

I took all my concentration not to grin at his adorable grumpy look. He was pretty much perfect in my eyes, but I wasn't about to blurt that out too. Instead, I went to my go-to response: "Dork."

Will wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue out, which wouldn't have been cute in any other context. As I laughed again and let go of his wrists, his impish expression gave way to a smile as warm as the sun. Then he said something that completely blindsided me:

"I love you."

I reacted like he'd spoken in Mermish. My entire body forgot how to function. My heart started thumping, and my blood fizzled like I was about to dissolve into thin air. I knew I should answer him, but I couldn't find my voice. I just stared at him stupidly as his face turned a shade darker in the dim light.

I wasn't sure why this was so startling to me. Will and I had been dating for more than five months. Compared to some other couples at camp, we'd been taking things slow. We were both young and inexperienced, and we didn't want to rush it. Still, I'd thought that phrase at least a thousand times by now. Whether or not I wanted to admit it, I knew exactly how I felt about him. And although he'd never said it out loud before, he'd made it pretty clear how he felt about me. So I didn't understand why it was so hard to breathe all of a sudden. It was like being stuck at the top of a rollercoaster right before the steepest drop.

"You asked what I was going to say," Will went on, pushing through my awkwardness. I was impressed that he hadn't looked away, even though I was probably ogling him like he'd grown as many eyes as Argus. "Well, now you know," he added with a shrug.

When I registered what he meant, I whispered, "Oh." A second later, I blurted, "I'm sorry."

Understandably, that earned me a very strange look - something between amusement, concern, and secondhand embarrassment. "That is not the right answer," he told me, smiling like he wasn't sure whether he should laugh or not.

I winced and backtracked, "No, I meant..." I sighed, frustrated with myself. "I just...I didn't mean to pressure you."

Will gave a soft laugh. "You didn't pressure me, Angel. I wanted to say it."

That response would've made me blush even if he hadn't been wearing that calm, soul-searching look. I was suddenly very aware of how close he was to me - and how easy it would be to touch him again. The thought made goosebumps spring up on my arms. The air between us felt electric, like lightning was about to strike.

Love.

It was a real, tangible thing, powerful and unavoidable. It connected people and grounded them. It could be warm and beautiful. It could also be cold and painful.

I'd spent the last few years running from love - especially this kind of love. But I wasn't that person anymore.

"It's alright," Will said gently. "You don't have to-"

I abruptly leaned in and kissed him - both to shut him up and to give myself a courage boost. When I pulled back, I looked right into his eyes and told him what I'd known deep down for months:

"I love you too."

He reacted like I'd handed him concert tickets for his favorite band. His face filled with wonder, and he breathed, "Really?"

"Of course, dummy."

Will's answering smile could've lit up a stadium. I flinched as he pumped his fists in the air and let out a very loud whoop. As sweet as that reaction was, the sound made my heart drop. I hastily clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shh! Nobody's supposed to know you're here! Chiron would kill you!"

Will didn't seem very concerned. He moved my hand out of the way and pressed kisses all over my face until I was laughing and pushing him off.

"Okay, okay! I get it!"

When he reluctantly relented, he was still grinning like a crazy person. I shook my head at him, but that smile was contagious. "I love you," I told him again, simply because it popped into my head. It felt liberating, saying exactly what I was thinking.

I liked his second reaction even better. He kissed me with such enthusiasm that I was breathless by the time we broke apart. He stayed close again, tracing his fingers along my jaw. Then his smile returned. "I love you too," he murmured, which seemed redundant.

Not trusting myself to kiss him anymore, I buried my flaming face in his shirt.

By some miracle, I actually fell asleep that night.