#elysian/solangelo

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Woo! First time writing something Riordanverse related- lemme know what you think! Here's my masterlist!

Warning(s): Little bit of angst, with fluff and bitter sweetness,ressurection, death, overall just some Bianca representation 😭🫶🏾

Pairing(s): Nothing major, slight mentions of Solangelo

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ꜱᴏʀᴇʟʟᴀ ────•°•☁︎•°•─────•

Everything was dark and cold. Even though it shouldn’t be. That’s what Bianca told herself and she glided through the Elysian Fields. It was lively and peaceful, of course, but everything felt so... wrong. Like she didn’t belong. People here were people who lived good lives and had done good things. And while the judges in the Underworld deemed her sacrifice to save her friends was valiant indeed, Bianca felt like she didn’t deserve it. 

But that was probably just a normal thing everyone went through.

Right?

She had told her father that she wished to be reborn, but the king of the Underworld refused, saying that in order to do so, one must completely let go anything that tethered them to their past life. And she did. She tried to, at least. And she wanted to. But she couldn’t. 

She couldn’t let go over the Hunters, the small welcoming family of girls like her, eternals maidens, who became her eternal family when the one she already had was just too much. Those who took her in when the burden of holding the only ones she loved close became a crushing weight of repressed emotions and being forced to grow up too fast. 

She couldn’t let go of her mother, Maria Di Angelo, who held her close when she cried and soothingly sang sweet lullabies with her distinct Italian accent making young Bianca feel the warm tingly sensation of feeling loved. The way her cooking always wafted through the kitchen with spices and sauces that made her mouth water.

And she couldn’t let go of Nico.

Nico, who had a messy mop of black hair that she would always braid when she was bored, much to his annoyance. Nico, who thought the world was just a game of Mythomagic where everyone had statistics and attacks. Nico, who loved the color green. Nico, the brother she selfishly abandoned. Nico, the one she swore to protect when their parents disappeared from their lives.

The thought of forgetting him made her heart sink.

Days went by, or at least what she thought was days, stuck in this turmoil, until an abrupt voice in the back of her head started reaching for her, beckoning to have her follow.

“Bring me Bianca Di Angelo!”

It sounded like a boy, a teenager maybe, but it sounded familiar somehow. 

And she was curious.

So she let the voice whisk her away.

And when she opened her eyes, the darker ones of Nico Di Angelo stared back at her. 

His eyes were wide, and there was a discarded Happy Meal box by his feet. And gods was she starving.

So she tentatively took a bite of the burger and looked at her brother. 

He was older now, and he looked more tired. His hair was even longer and more tangled, her fingers twitched at the urge to braid them. Old habits and all. 

She cupped his jaw with a pale translucent hand, flesh that used to be there ghosting over his skin, unspoken words and emotions reciprocated through the gesture.

“Why did you summon me Nico?” She asks quietly, looking at him.

“I knew you were leaving. Everything. Don’t ask me how I could just tell. Son of Hades thing I guess.” He shrugs nonchalantly, but Bianca could tell he was bothered by it. She was too.

“I don’t want to forget you Nico. Not without knowing that you’re safe. I failed as your older sister to protect you and now… I don’t want to move on without my duty as your sister fulfilled.” Her voice cut off from the thickness in her voice, tears threatening to spill from her eyes but never would because they couldn’t.

Nico looked close to crying too, as he tried to hug her but couldn’t, leaving them standing close to each other, her forehead grazing the skin of his.  

“Do you think I should do it?” Bianca asks after a while.

“Yes.” He says without hesitation. “My job as your brother is to make you happy.” 

Bianca’s eyes widen as his choice of words. Is not was.

“Are you safe?” She repeats, her voice reduced to a whisper. 

Nico chuckles sourly at that. “As safe as a demigod can be. Plus I’ve got an amazing boyfriend and friends who care about me a lot for some reason. I’ve even got a half sister.”

Bianca smiles at that. “As your biological sister, let her know she has my blessing. “

“As a sister.” She adds, a corny smile making its ways across her lips and Nico snorts at that.

“Go and be happy Bianca. I love you sorella.” 

The unshed tears threaten to suffocate her from the familiar Italian word. 

“I love you too fratello.”

And then she was back in the underworld.

But this time, it didn’t feel so dark and cold anymore.

BONUS:

Bianca stands at the front of the looming doors to Hades’s palace. But it was too late to turn back now. 

She had to do this.

The doors open and she walks in, the quiet of the halls was disturbing.

Sitting at his throne was Hades himself in all his glory, looking as gaunt as ever. He looked bored, but his black eyes glittered with intrigue as Bianca knelt at his feet.

“Daughter.” He says, slightly surprised.

“Father. I have a request regarding my rebirth.” She says slowly.

He leans forward at that, resting his elbows on his knees. “And what would that be?”

“I wish to be reborn with green eyes.”

[rippedjeansandloudmusic]

capitolo quattro

Chapter Three ---> [x]

sorry this took so long.

Nico almost had a fucking panic attack.

“That was fucking Bianca,” he said, his forehead laid on the cold tile of the table. He lifted his head only to bang it on the table again. “And Hazel oh my god. She looked like a motherfucking goddess. How is that even possible? It’s just a goddamned tattoo but nooo it just had to be fucking stained glass the same fucking stained glass that Hazel used to make with her mother - ”

“Okay, lover boy,” Percy said, hitting the space between Nico’s shoulder blades with his free hand. “If you think he’s that hot, why don’t you go up and tell him you’re soulmates?”

“Well, I don’t know, do I look like the kind of person someone that hot would like? Because I sure as hell wouldn’t date me if I was him.”

Nico went to bang his head again, but Percy’s hand protected his fall. He just groaned louder. Now his plan of killing himself by blunt force trauma wasn’t going to work. Fuck.

“Fuck my life.” He groaned out, trying to both express his discomfort and embarrass Percy enough to let them leave. But he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of fucking Apollo. Fuck.

“Why does he have to be so fucking attractive? Like, why couldn’t he be you, Percy? Why did he have to be a goddamned reincarnation of Apollo!?”

“I’m going to try not to be offended by that, Nico.”

Jason just snorted, joining Nico on banging his head on the table.

“Now you understand my pain!” He moaned out, banging his head on the table again. Percy groaned, throwing his hand under Jason’s head as well.

“When did I become the parent of two angsty teens?”

“When you decided to let me pick this place of any place in the fucking large city that is New York. And when you got Annabeth.”

And they stayed like that for about two minutes.

“Okay, my hands are going numb, so I suggest you grow a pair and go talk to him.”

Nico scowled, finally sitting up and beginning to fidget with the napkins in front of him. He laughed bitterly, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, Percy, let’s just start a fucking musical number as we’re at it why don’t we?”

Percy rolled his eyes, picking Jason up from his baby fit and smacking them both upside the head. Nico didn’t react, not really unused to Percy’s hitting-upside-the-head tricks, though instead just glared at him again.

“You said when you met Annabeth you felt like you were walking on water. Why the hell do I feel like I just became reanimated after being dead for fifty years?”

Percy bit his bottom lip, giving Nico a knowing look. “You know,” he started, “sometimes you scare me with your violent way of comparing things.”

Nico glared at him again. Percy wasn’t affected, though got the message.

“You do realize that as soon as I met Annabeth, even though I was in pajamas still, I walked over and talked to her, right?”

Nico found a new way to hit his head; the back of his chair.

“Jesus Christ di Angelo, just go talk to the guy. I don’t understand what the big deal is here.”

Nico went to snap at Percy though stopped, knowing he wouldn’t understand. This guy - goddamn it Nico didn’t read his nametag - looked amazing. As though the god Apollo himself just waltzed down from Olympus and blessed this kid with his looks. He had freckles across his face, covering the bridge of his nose and his collarbone and shoulders. He looked fucking gorgeous without even trying. No offense to Annabeth, but he couldn’t see anyone looking better than him. And he would keep that opinion until the day he died.

He realized he was staring and shook his head, looking down at his napkin. He realized it was now in shreds in front of his seat and groaned, throwing the napkin down and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Aw,” Percy said, giving Nico a look that made him want to deck Percy immediately. “You look like your true form: an angsty gay teen.”

Nico went to punch Percy though Jason held him back, grabbing his bicep.

“Now can you tell me where the girls are?”

Nico thought about it for a minute.

“Call Hazel, tell her - ”

Nico stopped himself mid-sentence.

“Call Hazel.”

Jason didn’t hesitate, grabbing Nico’s phone from the table and unlocking it

“Passcode?” Jason asked, not removing his eyes from the screen.

“Naomi. N - A - O - M - I, Naomi.”

“Who’s Naomi?” Percy asked, spinning in his chair like a small child. Nico rolled his eyes.

“Don’t know. It’s on my arm, though, so I thought it was a good password idea.”

“So what you’re telling me is,” Percy rubbed his forehead. “You have someone's name - someone who you don’t even know - as your phone password because it was convenient?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“My god,” Percy facepalmed, and Nico just stared at the boy behind the counter.

He was talking to the girl beside him, smiling happily at something she said. His eyes sparkled with glee, his head thrown back for a moment.

As the atmosphere calmed down his eyes looked over at Nico’s table and he froze, making eye contact with Nico. Nico quickly looked away, face burning, and chewed (not bit, chewed) on his bottom lip.

Percy was texting Annabeth, Jason was on the phone with Hazel and Nico was spaced out, staring at the napkin in his hand like it was from a different planet.

“She’s at the Macy’s Mall,” Jason said, hurrying to stand up from his chair and almost knocking it down in the process. Percy jumped up as well, grabbing Jason before he could run off.

“Nico,” he said, raising a brow at Nico. “Do you want us to fly by on our way back?”

You mean do you want to come by? I doubt you’re going to be near Jason for long.

“No,” he replied instead, eyeing his shreds of the napkin on the table. “No - just, don’t die, alright?”

Percy nodded appreciatively, finally letting Jason pull him away. They were out of the shop in minutes.

That just left Nico, the hipster passed out in the corner, three homeless men and about five other people left in the cafe.

Great.

He continued staring at the napkin shreds, trying to boost his self-esteem to go and talk to the guy.

What if I just, didn’t talk to him? I mean, we’re soulmates, we’ll find each other again eventually.

Nico dismissed that thought. He wanted to meet the guy, yeah, but he wasn’t sure if he would get the opportunity to make himself known. They could be roommates next year, or maybe get paired for a project or share cubicles in the same office in ten years. He wanted to meet this soulmate under his own terms; not by fate, or destiny, by Nico di Angelo.

So, he picked up a pen.

He doesn’t remember where he got it exactly - probably from the floor underneath his chair - or how he started writing on a new napkin, but before he knew it he was walking out of the shop, hands in his pockets, fear in his heart and hands shaking.

God, I hope I didn’t fuck up.

+

Will was having a fun time, he guesses.

Lou and he were mostly talking after the three guys walked in; almost no one coming in after that time. His gaze kept on wandering to the other guys, though. In particular, the one that looked like an emo kid straight out of MySpace. Nico. Though, every time they would share a glance the boy would look away, clearly flustered, and proceeded to rip something in front of him to shreds.

Will knew it wasn’t okay to find that attractive.

The guy looked to be maybe eighteen, but no older. His hair was pulled back by a bright pink hair tie (Will soon realized that that was the only color the guy had on that day) showing off his sharp cheekbones and pale complexion. He seemed to be perpetually squinting at things, as though he lost his glasses and couldn’t find them, and had a permanent scowl etched into his face. Will found himself comparing Nico to a god, and Will wasn’t sure why, but he was appalled by the idea. More… more accepting if anything.

It was odd.

Will thought that maybe, just maybe, they could be soulmates. Though he quickly brushed that off. They said that when you met your soulmate you immediately wanted to get to know them, he reasoned, but I just want to be with him. I don’t care what his favorite color is, or if he has a best friend. I just want to be near him. Be with him.

But, wait…

His jacket covered his mark.

Will blinked a few times at his register, trying to come back to reality, though that thought stuck with him.

Why would anyone want their mark covered?

Will wasn’t sure why.

Maybe that was why he didn’t want to get to know Nico, too. Maybe he had to have evidence that they were soulmates before he could feel those things. The things people talked about in books or movies.

Wow, he thought to himself, I’m getting meta here.

It wasn’t that long after his revelation that the door to the restaurant slammed shut.

Will looked up, his hair in his face a bit, and barely saw the flash of purple move past the outside window.

He’s gone.

Will’s stomach filled with an unexpected pool of sadness.

I don’t know if he’s my soulmate or not.

Then he looked back over at their table, expecting it to be vacant, but saw Nico still sitting there; hand in the process of taking back his hair (he had taken it down, Will now

realized, in the last five minutes or so) and was tapping his fingers in quick succession on the table.

He looks agitated, Will thought, his eyes trailing back to the door. Why is he upset?

“Solace!” Lou yelled at him, snapping her fingers under his nose. Will flinched, almost hitting her hand away, but stopped himself short.

“Shit, Lou,” he settled for instead, placing a hand on his chest. “I didn’t see you.”

“Really?” She asked in a clearly sarcastic tone. “I was calling for you for ten minutes, dude, what the hell?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Will quickly apologized, spinning around to look at her. “What did you need?”

Lou rolled her eyes, waving into the back room with her hand. “Mom needs you to take the trash out. All, of the trash.”

Will scoffed, walking backward into the room.

“What? It’s just trash,”

It wasn’t just trash.

There were bags of the stuff, so much so that Will was surprised the shop hadn’t been shut down on just basic health precaution. There were ten bags, easy, and he was expected to carry it all out by himself?

Needless to say, it took him about twenty minutes.

When he finally came out of the back room almost everyone was gone. Lou was waving away some homeless guy in the far back corner, but besides that, it was mostly vacant. When Lou came back Will was sitting on the counter, throwing his legs back and forth and thinking of Nico. He found it odd, thinking of a stranger, but he couldn’t get the boy’s face out of his head; his fragile face and stone cold glares. Will could tell that he wasn’t very open, even if his clothing didn’t say it enough, his body language did. How he crossed his arms and legs, rarely opening up, it said enough. At least to Will it did.

“Grab the trays,” Lou said, running around the counter and expecting Will to follow. Will did, grabbing the tray beside Lou’s and following her out the room again.

“You do know how to clean tables, right?” She asked.

“You do realize I worked at your dad’s restaurant for years, right?”

Lou snorted, making a beeline towards the tables in the back of the restaurant. Will totally doesn’t make a mental note that it’s directly towards Nico’s table. Most certainly not. Nu uh. Nope.

Will trailed the outer edge of the establishment, cleaning up tables and throwing away leftover plastic cups and bagels people were too lazy to throw away.

About an hour later he was finished, throwing away the leftover cup in his hand and sighing, collapsing into a chair beside him.

“Yo, Solace,” Lou yelled from the front of the store.

Will got up, walking across the tiles to the front counter. The tray was at his hip, held by his right hand. His left was rubbing the back of his neck, wanting to relax his muscles a bit. This was frequent after cleaning the tables; his neck and legs were almost always sore and he wanted to pass out. Today was no exception.

She was leaning against the counter, a napkin from a table in her hands unfolded, and she seemed to be reading it.

“I think you’re going to want to read this.” She handed the paper over, smiling brightly and failing at trying to hide it.

“It’s addressed to the quote, ‘cute boy behind the counter’.”

Will raised a brow, turning the napkin over, careful not to tear it, and read the front. Sure enough, it was, in fact, addressed to the ‘cute blonde boy behind the counter’.

He pursed his lips, giving Lou a look through his eyelashes.

And promptly put the letter in his back pocket.

Lou’s eyes bulged at his moves, staring at him like he was crazy.

“Read it, dumbass!”

“Why?” Will asked, shrugging. Truth be told he was shaking, though tried to be nonchalant. “It’s just a letter.”

Lou began sputtering, throwing her hands in the air at random.

“Just a letter, Solace! Seriously! Read the damn thing!”

Will just shrugged again. “I’ll read it when I get home.”

Lou glared at Will, facepalming before stalking to the front door. Will ran to catch up with her, tucking the letter even further into his pocket to make sure it didn’t fall out.

Fucking Solace, Lou thought to herself.

That letter was from your soulmate. But, you’re just too stubborn, aren’t you?

[rippedjeansandloudmusic]

elysian: capitolo primo

RENAMED FROM: REVERSE PSYCHOLOGY!!!!!!! 

Nico’s had a pretty shitty life. His best friend, sister, and mother all dead, and an abandoned father all coupled with being sent off to a new country, he isn’t sure if it’s cruel humor or sick coincidence that he got his soulmate mark at the worst of times.

Will’s had a boring life. Living what’s seemingly the same day on repeat, he wants out. He wants excitement.

Here’s the story of how they met. [read on ao3]

Nico di Angelo hated being forced to do something.

It was something he was raised with; something that was always a part of him. He never understood why, though it was probably him just unconsciously following in his older sister’s, Bianca’s, footsteps.

She was always the outgoing one, wanting to get up and do things instead of sitting back and watching them happen. Like when she would watch TV. She would see someone do wheelies on their bike and immediately say “Bye mom and dad, I’m going to learn how to do a wheelie.”

The best part of their relationship was based on this foundation; the wanting to do and not watch.

This was the exact thing that got her killed.

The day was about as normal as could be. Nico woke up in the cot below Bianca’s, stretching and jumping up the ladder to shake his sister’s unconscious body.

Bianca was a weird girl, to say the least. All around town, there were whispers about the thirteen-year-old girl who couldn’t let her eleven-year-old brother go. They were practically attached at the hip. They were a package deal, you got both of them or neither or them.

Her hair was pretty lengthy, something Nico enjoyed (but his mom wouldn’t let him grow his hair out), with a bare face and almost always with a smile. Most girls her age were enveloping themselves in makeup and boys. Bianca preferred to stay at a distance where she could watch instead of do; one of the only exceptions to her number one rule: Don’t sit back and watch when you can get up and do.

She had that inked all over the walls above her bed. In cursive, Italian, English, some random language her and her brother had made up…

She loved that phrase.

So, it was no surprise when it showed up on her arm. Bianca didn’t have a soulmate. At least, that’s what she told Nico. So, the things she loved showed up on her own arm. She called it poetic, something Nico understood but didn’t really understand. It was odd. He understood what poetic meant, and how she could think that phrase was poetic, but he didn’t understand why. Why that phrase, and why now?

Nico looked like your typical on-the-rise teen. His hair was cut short and his eyes were always open, wanting to swallow all the information he could get off the world. He was always hungry for exploration, something he probably got from his sister.

After he dragged a begrudging Bianca from the bed and down the stairs of their rickety old mansion (this was ancient. Dad had said that it was passed down throughout the generations, and Nico believed him. Though, in secret, Bianca would say how That’s utter bullshit. He probably got this in some knockoff auction or something.

Nico didn’t understand why she hated dad so much. She said he was too young to understand.

Though, she never seemed close to dad.)

Their father was at the kitchen counter, arms wrapped around Maria di Angelo and face buried in her neck. Bianca just rolled her eyes, clearly done with their actions, and walked around them to the fridge door.

Dad didn’t acknowledge her, only running up to Nico and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Nico!” He screamed, hands racing up and Nico’s sides. Nico thrashed, eventually getting out of his father’s grip and running up to hide behind Bianca. Bianca smiled, putting him in a headlock and rubbing her knuckles against his head.

“Don’t come over here and expect to be saved!” She yelled in between bursts of laughter.

Maria watched the two from beside her husband, hiding a smile behind her hand.

After breakfast Bianca pulled Nico out the front door, only half paying attention to her mother yelling at them from the door. She blew Maria a kiss through her hand, screaming how they’ll be back for lunch.

They were now in new clothes, running through the streets of Venice with their hands in the sky, laughing and playing with other kids that would come by.

The sidewalks were crowded, and they could see boats as they floated underneath bridges they would run across. Bianca had hitched a ride with a girl’s family who she apparently knew from school, while Nico sat beside her and they tried to push each other into the water.

It was great.

It was normal.

They got back at lunch time, just like she said they would, and immediately dove into their lunches. Maria asked how their exploration was, and Bianca watched and Nico raved about how There are monsters in the water! Don’t look at me like that, Bianca. They’re HUGE!

They all knew he was joking, but no one asked him to stop.

They went back out again that night; dancing in stores they would come across, sometimes they would just start yelling songs at the tops of their lungs and watch as people stared at them with loving eyes, wishing they could be that young again. That happy again.

It wasn’t until they got home, at around six, that things went wrong.

“Bianca!” Nico yelled, darting into a sprint up their street. It took Bianca a minute to realize what caught his line of sight.

“Holy shit!” She yelled, running to catch up to Nico.

Their house was on fire.

You could see the flames licking up the side of the home, tearing away at old, charted paint and old foundations. You could see the windows breaking under pressure and could hear floors falling.

Their father stood outside the ruckus, on his knees and seemingly passed out. Nico ran over.

“Dad!” He screamed, hoping to wake him. He smacked him once. Twice. But nothing.

“Mom’s still inside…” Bianca whispered to herself, making sure Nico didn’t hear. She cast a look at him, how he was leaning over Hades with a terrified look on his face. There were groups of people crowding around them, forming a ring. Someone had their phone out, calling the police. She could see one of their neighbors - she didn’t know their name - tearing Nico from Hades’ unconscious body. She looked back at the burning home.

“Mom…” She said once more.

Then she darted.

Nico saw her soon after, running headfirst back into the flames.

“Bianca!” He yelled, trying to tear the man’s arms from around his waist. Instead, they tightened, keeping him rooted to his place on the once green grass surrounding his home.

“BIANCA!”  He screamed again, only now noticing the tears staining his face. That didn’t keep him from repeating the chorus until minutes (probably minutes) (it could’ve easily been hours) later when he was pulled aside by someone, he doesn’t know or remember who, and was ushered into a vehicle (he doesn’t remember what) and reassured. He doesn’t remember what he was being reassured of.

His entire family was dead.

He didn’t need reassuring…

He needed his sister back.

His arm burned, which didn’t make sense. He wasn’t hit by any flames (that he knows of), so what was happening?

He rolled his arm up, tears still falling down his face, before seeing something that was being seared into his skin.

A sun.

A sun.

How fucking ironic. Just as his entire family is gone his soulmate appears.

Fucking.

Great.

+

Will Solace wasn’t sure why soulmates are even a thing.

He loves his family, and they love him in return. He has amazing siblings, Kayla and Austin, and he doesn’t need anyone else. Does he want anyone else? Well, that’s debatable. He wants to feel this thing that everyone describes as the best feeling in the world. It’s like you’ve just down seven energy drinks, his older brother says. Austin had met his soulmate at a young age. Sixteen, to be exact. A high that you can’t get down from. I feel like I don’t need five-hour energies when I’m with her.

Will think’s that cool. Feeling like you never need to sleep or anything? Someone you would die for?

That’s the appeal he got from it.

What he didn’t like, however, was that this… this person was chosen for you. He felt as though the point of living was to make your own choices; your own mistakes.

So, if you're meant to find your own place in the world, why did someone already pair you up with someone?

That’s what he didn’t understand.

His normal day was extremely boring. He got up to go to school, then got home seven hours later to study, then go to sleep. Repeat the cycle the next day. That was until the weekend when he would study on repeat and watch weird videos on YouTube.

It was boring.

He hated boring.

He wanted to go out and do something. He wanted to explore; run down the street just to see how fast he could go. Light something on fire to see how fast it would go out.

He wondered, occasionally, if he soulmate felt this too.

But he didn’t dwell on it.

The first tattoo he got, he was ten. Playing with Austin, who was now fifteen, outside. He didn’t have the best relationship with his siblings, besides with Kayla, but Austin was the man of the house. Their dad had walked out a long time ago, leaving his mom, Naomi, alone with three kids and no child support.

Thank god he wasn’t his mom’s soulmate. Apparently, her original soulmate had died long ago. Will was, even though he kinda hated it, a mistake. A one-night-stand went wrong.

His mom didn’t treat him like it was his fault, like in the movies. She told him about his birth father, and how they were alike and how they weren’t. She didn’t hate him or cast him out.

He loved his mother.

Austin had thrown him the ball. Will caught it with nonchalance, as though sports came naturally to him, and threw it back. This time, though, when Austin threw the ball back it rolled back into the woods behind them.

“I’ll get it!” Will called back, running forward into the wood.

He got pricked with many different thorns, one or two catching on his hoodie before he ran back to Austin.

Will’s arm burned, something he didn’t particularly like enduring, but he powered through it, tossing the ball back and forth with Austin until he noticed something was up.

“What’s wrong?” Austin had asked, walking forward with a hand on his hip. Will shook his head. His eyes lingered on Austin’s forearm, though. He had just recently gotten his tattoo - a small compass with what appeared to be prayer beads. Will shook his head.

“Nothing.”

Austin rolled his eyes, walking over and grabbing Will’s wrist. Will quickly pulled his arm back, wincing at the pain where Austin’s hand had touched his wrist.

“Will.” He chided, reaching forward and grabbing his wrist again. Will hissed but didn’t pull away, allowing his older brother to pull his sleeve back.

When his hoodie was discarded (it was a bother), Austin’s eyes promptly grew to the size of saucers.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

“Ma!” He called back towards the house, not looking away from Will’s hand. “Ma, you’ve got to see this!”

Will scrunched his brows, his eyes only now fluttering down to his forearm.

His tattoo.

But… but that wasn’t supposed to come for a few years. Why… why was it -

“Ma! Ma, Will’s got his tattoo!”

Will almost didn’t notice when Austin began tugging him back towards their small home. It was in one of those suburban areas with homes clustered all around, he wasn’t sure what it was called, and theirs was probably one of the smallest. There were barely enough bedrooms for them, Kayla having her own and the boys having to share, and the old yellow paint was chipping from the sides.

The tattoo was something Will couldn’t quite see. There were also scribbles under it. It was a rough sketch of two women.

Bianca e Maria di Angelo

He wasn’t sure if they were words or names, but probably names. Also probably for the two women on his arm now.

Naomi came flying down the stairs towards her two sons.

“What do you mean he already has his tattoo? You just got yours, Austin.” Naomi had a slight southern accent, something that affected her o’s and t’s a bit. And she rarely said you all. Always yall.

“But he did, Ma. See?”

Naomi slid her glasses up her nose a bit, taking a fleeting look at her son’s arm. Her eyes widened, immediately batting Austin’s hand away.

“Don’t touch it! That’s gonna hurt, Austin. More than yours did.”

Will winced at the tattoos began morphing, changing. The girl on the left - who Will assumed was Bianca - her photo began changing, now more like words making up a person.

Non sedersi e guardare quando si può alzarsi e fare. It was that simple phrase repeated all throughout her photo, creating her face and eyes. The ink would get darker to symbolize the shadows that crossed her face. Words made her freckles, lips, eyebrows, cheekbones.

Will would dare say she was attractive. But, not truly. He knew she wasn’t his soulmate.

His mother googled the words (after they deciphered them, anyway) and recited them from the screen soon after.

“Don’t sit and watch when you can get up and do. Humph,” she walked back over to her son. “Your soulmate sure has an odd form of loving.”

“Maybe they’re his family,” Will tried to defend them, though he was quite curious himself. Why were they showing up now? He’d never heard of this happening before, so why now?

He couldn’t come up with an explanation.

+

Nico had to move to the states.

They tried to look for his father, tried to find him, but Hades di Angelo had disappeared off the face of the Earth. Everyone was looking for this guy; but nothing.

Nico was left alone.

He was sent to a foster home in upstate New York. The worst part, though? Besides being all alone? He couldn’t speak English.

He could tell people were talking to each other, their lips were moving and a sound was coming out, though to him all it sounded like was gibberish. Words and sounds mixing together.

“Quando posso andare a letto? Sono stanco…” When can I go to bed? I’m tired…

“In un minuto, Nico,” the lady spat back at him, making him want to retreat into the wall. She was cranky. Nico immediately disliked her.

He rubbed his wrist, thinking of his soulmate.

Did he live in America? Where they here, in New York?

Nico wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He remembers a conversation he had with… well, they talked about how he didn’t like the girl next door.

“Why not? She’s pretty,” she asked, throwing on a long skirt from her drawer. Nico shrugged.

“I don’t know. Though, her brother’s kinda cute, right?”

Bianca just shot him a smile.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Nico?”

Nico blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes and looking up at the new lady. She seemed nice. Her hair was black, pulled up into a ponytail high above her head. Nico walked forward, not bothering to be subtle, and looked up at her. She was short, not much taller than Nico, and he cleared his throat, looking back at the woman who was meant to be translating for him until he got settled. Honestly, he just wanted to be left alone for a moment. All these new things… it was too much.

“Signora, potrei andare in camera mia. Voglio... solo essere lasciato da solo.” Ma’am, may I please go to my room?. I just… I want to be left alone.

She looked at the other woman. She was sending Nico a sad look, her blue eyes filled with sympathy. Nico had gotten that look enough, and wanted it to go away.

He rubbed his forearm again.

She looked at his arm and raised a brow. She turned to the other woman and exchanged a few words. Looks were tossed back and forth. The blue eyed woman got a shocked look, though it didn’t last long.

Soon after Nico was walked inside.

The home was small. There was a crowded walkway that leads to an open area with a round table in the center and a window across from it. There were things on the fridge, papers hung with magnets. Nico raised a brow though didn’t ask. Partially because he didn’t know how. He knew a few words here and there. He had learned with Bianca. She always wanted to travel to the Americas… she wanted to become a famous piano player like their mother once was.

Nico blew on his eyes (or tried) to stop the tears from falling. The ones that fell he flicked away.

He bit his lip in concentration, trying to muster up the few words he knew.

“Uh…” he looked at the young woman. She couldn’t have been older than the mid thirties.

“Um, bedroom?” He could hear his own accent, thick with Venice remembrance. Sally looked a bit surprised, though Nico didn’t question it. He’s been getting a lot of questioning looks over the past few days.

She waved him over, leading him down another crowded hallway towards two rooms on the very end of the hall.

“Percy!” She called out. Nico was a bit weirded out. Why would anyone name their kid Percy?

“I’m comin’ mom!”

He wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, though next thing he knew he was stood in front of an older boy. He didn’t have an angelic glow, or a godly presence, though he did look… different. Nico wasn’t sure if that was positive or not though.

Percy’s eyes widened when he made eye contact with Nico and he flung himself backward into his room, grabbing what appeared to be a laptop and appearing back into the hall. He and the other woman exchanged a few words, Percy tapping away at his laptop, before spinning it around and showing it to Nico.

Ciao! Mi chiamo Percy, e mia madre è Sally. Come ti chiami?Hello! My name is Percy, and my mother is Sally. What’s your name?

Nico raised both brows at the family. He tried to play Sally’s name on his tongue though couldn’t exactly. Sally just smiled at her son, gesturing for Nico to tap out a response. It was a bit odd, he wasn’t used to the keys, though he eventually figured it out.

Dove sono? Where am I?

Sally’s eyes widened, and she tapped something out.

Non sai dove sei?  You don’t know where you are?

Nico shook his head, taking the laptop back quickly and tapping away again.

No, non so solo che la sua casa sia. Conosco l'America perchè qui? No, I just don’t know whose house this is. I know, America, though why here?

And that was how they communicated. For a good amount of time, too. Just standing in the doorway of this Percy guy’s room.

Eventually, Sally explained how Nico’s father’s brother was Percy’s dad, and they were the closest relatives he had.

That’s great… Nico thought to himself.

Soon after he walked into the bedroom he was apparently going to be sharing with Percy Jackson.

There was a bunk bed with metal rods in the furthest corner of the room. The room was covered in glow-in-the-dark stars, and there was a shaggy carpet laid dormant in the middle of the room. A makeshift desk in front of a window that looked out to what appeared to be a fire escape.

“Ironia iritata..” Irritated irony (it’s a loose translation)

Nico murmured to himself, thankful Percy couldn’t hear him.

“What?” The boy in question asked, though Nico just waved him off. He walked over to the bunk bed, gesturing to them. Percy said something and Nico just glared at him for a moment. Percy’s brain clicked and he gestured to the top bunk, in which Nico climbed up with his single duffle bag. Not much could be salvaged from the fire, though most of what was were just sentimental stuff.

Nico was glad it was only the important things.

He reached into his bag, pulling out a case of thumbtacks he had stolen from the mean translation lady. He also reached in and pulled out an old tin, one that once belonged to his sister, one that was only partly charred from the fire. He opened the top, flipping through the photos.

He looked down to Percy. He was standing in the center of the room awkwardly, holding his laptop and shifting slightly.

“Uh…” he muttered. Nico rolled his eyes, though didn’t look away. Something about this boy... infatuated him. Though Nico swatted those thoughts away because of first of all: cousins, ew. And secondly…

Oh shit.

Bianca had warned him that not everyone would accept him, whatever that meant. So, what was he supposed to do? What if they didn’t accept him? She told him to be wary of people who may not like him for who he likes.

“Uh, do you want me to leave?” Percy asked, gesturing to the door. Nico raised a brow and Percy took that and ran with it, leaving the bedroom.

Nico sighed.

“Great…” he muttered, unconsciously slipping into his new language. English.

+

Will was still bored.

He had turned thirteen last week. Now, for most people, that’s amazing.

But not for Will.

Nothing changed. He didn’t grow a foot, or suddenly have a bunch of friends. Nothing felt necessarily different.

He hated it.

Everything felt so bland. Like it was the same record on repeat for eternity.

Something new showed up on his arm, though. A name, Sally. He wasn’t sure who Sally was, though her name was inked in blue, the end of the Y being attached to a sea shell. That wasn’t everything, though.

There was also a camera and a pair of headphones. And old tin can that Will was sure someone probably set fire too. The tattoo of the two women hadn’t faded or changed, which Will thought was odd. Don’t most people’s faces change over time?

For a while, there was a pen, a weird cap pen with a word in ancient Greek. Riptide. He wasn’t sure why that was important.

The newest addition was the one that everyone found to be odd.

It was a word. Soulmate. Will didn’t understand why someone would love Soulmate, though it did make him curious.

Was his soulmate in love with the thought of a soulmate?

It was weird.

Everyone looked at it, wanting to catch a look at what was causing so much confusion. Will didn’t have an answer. Neither did WikiHow, since he had checked.

He found out he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up.

He also joined a new sport at school. Baseball. He overheard his mother talking about how her soulmate once played baseball and figured he should give it a try. Just for the hell of it.

He wasn’t very good at baseball, though.

He mostly stuck to his books; to the things he could control. He couldn’t control how his eyes seemed to always drift towards other boy’s in the locker room, or how his tattoo had shown up years before it was supposed to, or how he almost always had a really, really sad vibe. He was an optimist or tried to be, though he couldn’t shake off that depression.

He hated being sad. It was too sad for him.

So, he buried himself into his work.

It was the one thing he could control.

+

Nico just turned fifteen.

He didn’t understand how it was that much different than being eleven. I mean, they’re just numbers. What’re they meant to represent, anyway? How many years you survived? How many years of pain you’ve been through?

He’s started to branch out a bit more, no thanks to Perseus Jackson.

Percy had gotten a new friend, someone by the name Jason. Nico wasn’t sure what to think of him, yet. He had weird glasses that looked foreign on his face, and a scar above his lip that told the story of his weird diets as a child (ex. staples).

He had retreated into his wardrobe, though.

Mostly black pants and a bomber jacket. He’s been wearing the same shoes since he was fourteen, and wasn’t planning on giving them up.

He’s also learned more English. His accent was still there, though not as prominent as years prior. Most of the time he would cuss Jackson out in Italian so he couldn’t respond, and it was times like those that he was proud of his mother tongue.

He was also diagnosed with depression.

He had high days and low ones. Ones where he would love to go skydiving and ones where he just wanted to crawl up into a ball and never untangle himself.

He still had nightmares about the fire.

Though he was getting better.

His tattoo had morphed. Now it had a baseball bat and medical textbooks. There was a particular word… uh, ceraunophile. Someone who loves thunderstorms and lightning, apparently.

Nico would have to say he’s one as well.

Something about the imperfect pitches of thunder that rock their shitty apartment. About how Percy would cower under his blanket fort like he was protected from the outside world from inside.

He was going to university next year.

Nico still wasn’t sure what he thought about that.

Percy wasn’t his best friend by any means. He was more like a brother. A brother that he wishes would stop going on about his stupid tattoo with a book and blueprints on it for Pete's sake it’s annoying.

Nico wore the bomber jacket to cover his tattoos. He wasn’t ashamed of them, of course not, it was just something he liked to keep for himself. Something he felt was meant for him and no one else. Showing it off just felt… wrong.

He would sometimes sit on the desk before the window in their room, writing down different words and melodies, hoping to make something out of them one day. You could never see him without his headphones - he could escape through those. He didn’t have a specific type of preferred genre, just a little bit of everything.

Like now

He was watching new ink stretch up his arm, curling around his elbow. It was a light shade of pink, like a string, that seemed to be in constant motion around his arm. It spun like that, round and round and round and round, for about an hour. Soon after it stopped, etching a word into his skin.

Happiness

Damn.

Nico stole a look at Percy. He was out cold under the covers in his bottom bunk, so Nico quietly strolled up to his bunk and collapsed onto his mattress.

Pictures.

Pictures and glow in the dark stars.

He had thumbtacked all the saved photos from the fire to his ceiling, covering a vast majority of the wall. There was one in which Nico had cut out Hades’ face, making him virtually unknown. There were other photos of him and Bianca - most of them were him and Bianca - dancing. Nico never thought about that. How he and his sister could just dance in the middle of Venice, doing whatever, and how nobody acted like it was out of place. Sure, he got a few odd looks, but he learned not to care.

From Bianca.

He sat up, running his thumb against something he’d carved into the wood about three years ago.

Don’t sit back and watch when you can get up and do.

It was in Italian, though he could still read it perfectly fine.

He collapsed backward into his bed once more, closing his eyes and falling asleep to the fake sounds of chirping birds and the smell of grass, when in reality it was the sound of sirens and the smell of shitty Yankee candles.

Chapter Two -> [x]

[rippedjeansandloudmusic]

elysian: capitolo due

chapter two of my soulmate au. don’t hate me if it’s shitty. and it’s a bit shorter, only by about 700 words though so calm down Chapter One: [x] 

Nico’s tattoo’s changed over time.

Most stayed the same; the baseball theme, the sun, and the pink string. Though, the string was one of the weirder one. It was never the same. At one moment was Happiness and the other Dimples. Family to Sunshine.

He loved it.

It was poetic.

He wanted to know what was one his soulmate’s arm. Maybe his sister? Mama? Maybe a music sheet. He wasn’t sure what he loved.

His seventeenth birthday was last month. February was brewing over the horizon, threatening to come and destroy his peace.

His father called. Not to apologize. Not to come back. To announce he had a sister; one in New York, Manhattan. Literally in the same city as him. He expected Nico to go and meet her at some knock-off chain or restaurants downtown.

He wanted to go.

But he didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction of knowing he still had an influence over him…

Though she didn’t deserve that.

When he woke up that morning he threw the covers from his body, wiping the sweat from his brow and climbing down the ladder. He was never sure why he sweat in his sleep, and it was pretty fucking gross. Though he couldn’t help it. It was like second nature now.

He didn’t have a shirt on, only a pair of gray sweatpants and one sock. The sock had so many holes in it, though, that he was sure it classified more as just a strip of cloth.

He opened the door to his solo bedroom (Percy lived on campus) and walked across the floor towards the kitchen.

He wasn’t that surprised to find Sally already at the dining room table.

She was passed out at her laptop, reading glasses pushed up her head. Her black hair was pulled back into a messy bun atop her head, though most of it had come undone throughout the night. She was still wearing her suit from the office, meaning she had gotten home and immediately went to work on her book. She’s been working on it for a while, Nico knows because she’s asked him many questions on how teenagers are nowadays and were on it constantly.

He admired her determination to get them out of this rickety apartment.

His hair was now long enough where he could pull it back easily, something he always loved. He was positive he was done growing (height wise, of course), now being around five ten (one hundred seventy-seven centimeters) with a lanky body. His arms were growing a bit once Sally had convinced him to join the track team. His go-to attire was a black-sometimes-gray shirt with black jeans, along with a black leather bomber jacket.

He walked barefoot across the table, prying the laptop from Sally’s unconscious body and grabbing a pillow from one of the chairs to tuck under her head. She might’ve been asleep, but he knew she would appreciate the gesture.

He tip-toed around the table, reaching into the cabinet above the stove and grabbed some things.

As he was preparing breakfast, something that he normally did on the weekends, he didn’t realize Sally was in the doorway until he was finished. He sighed loudly, over-playing how her presence frightened him (it didn’t) (she was too nice to be frightening) and showing a small smile.

“How was your night?” He asked, his Italian accent showing slightly. It was there, he wasn’t going to let it fade that easily, making his words sound a little suaver than most people in America.

“Crappy,” Sally replied, walking over and opening the fridge. “Do you know where the cream is?”

“Top shelf,” Nico replied, grabbing two plates from the rack in the corner and taking the food from the pan.

“What did Shef di Angelo cook for us today?” Sally asked, raising a brow. Nico rolled his eyes, though didn’t fight the smile from his face.

“Sausage omelets. Don’t worry,” he said at her exasperated face, “it’s not hard. Barely took fifteen minutes.”

She smiled shyly at him, taking the plate he held out to her and walking back to the counter. Nico grabbed their drinks (coffee, obviously) and followed her out.

“How’s the book doing?” He asked when they sat back down. Sally appeared to be trying to turn the laptop back on, but it was obviously dead. Even he knew that when he barely knew how most forms of social media worked. She huffed out in annoyance before digging into her plate.

“About three-fourths the way done,” she replied after swallowing her first bite. She smiled at him, pointing with her fork towards the plate. “How are you so good at making these?”

“Mama taught me,” he replied, picking at his plate as well before shoveling some into his mouth. “Said, ‘I want you to be able to treat your soulmate right, Nico. Be extravagant!’”

Sally smiled sadly at him. Nico didn’t talk about his mother much, Bianca neither. Mostly because no one really asked, truly. He wasn’t over their deaths - he wasn’t sure he ever would be, truly - but he was better than before. He could talk about them, how great they were, and how he wished they were still around.

“Your mother sounds like an amazing person,” Sally said.

“She was…”

They settled into a nice silence after that, just eating.

“Are you going to see your sister today?” Sally asked after a moment, causing Nico to pause in getting up.

“Not sure yet,” Nico said, taking his plate into the kitchen. Sally sighed, following Nico into the kitchen to continue their conversation.

“I think you should,” she said, standing beside Nico at the sink. “You’re not going to have another opportunity like this, Nico.”

“I know, I know,” he said, grabbing the dish soap. “I just - I don’t know how I’m going to react. I want to meet her - I truly do - I just don’t know if I could see her without seeing him. He did pick her over me.”

“Nico,” Sally said, grabbing Nico’s wrist and grabbing his chin, pulling it to look at her. “You know that’s not true. He just… well, I don’t have an explanation. Just, even if that is true - which it isn’t! - you shouldn’t let that stop you from meeting her.”

Nico huffed, twisting his jaw from in between her fingers and continuing to wash his plate.

“Do you always have to be right?” He asked, though his tone was muffled. He disliked (read: hated) telling people they were right, gave them too much advantage. Though Sally just smiled, patting him on the back and walking back into the dining room.

“There’s money in the drawer! Don’t take more than you need, Nico!”

+

Nico hated going outside.

He was walking down the street, towards the coffee shop he was supposed to meet this infamous sister in. His white converse hit the street in a rhythm he was trying to get lost in, trying to forget that he was going to meet his only living relative (he didn’t like to think of his father as alive) (at least, not in his head. Not to him, he wasn’t) and how he could easily make this relationship crash and burn. But, alas, the sound of bussing taxi’s and screaming children left his brain a mush or something he couldn’t keep up with.

He pulled out his headset.

He had an old and falling-apart music player he’s had with him since his fifteenth birthday. Percy had gotten it for him, saying That’s what brothers do for each other, Nico, and leaving the room.

He had downloaded all the songs he remembers Bianca used to like. And the ones his mother used to sing to him as he had a hard time falling asleep.

O Sole Mio

It was something he loved listening to. It might not have been his mother’s voice or her way of singing it, but the simplicity of the song gave him the comfort he didn’t know he needed. The basic tempo with the basic lyrics…

They were basically him.

When the doors to the coffee shop were pushed open he almost gagged.

It smelled like old coffee and paper. He could see stereotypical hipsters, alongside the normal college students and some normal people - though not many - stationed at random places throughout. He didn’t bother walking up to the front counter, just marching straight towards the back and stationing himself at a table near the window.

He wasn’t sure what Hazel looked like, and she him, just that he would be alone at a table near the back.

He stayed there for about an hour until she showed up.

He didn’t hate her for it. He actually enjoyed the time alone, spent sketching or writing on some table napkins. By the time she got there he’d gone through about twenty napkins, and was now on his last one, drawing a part of an eye.

“Uh, Nico?” He heard a small voice ask, causing his head to lift.

Holy shit, was his first thought. Followed by Those genes must’ve come from her mom because holy shit Hades isn’t that attractive. He wasn’t thinking of her as Zac Efron hot, more like the sister who you know looks better than you hot. 

She had long and voluminous (that’s a thing, right?) hair, streaks of blonde all throughout the brown. She was wearing what appeared to be a school uniform, a long pleated skirt that danced about her mid-calf with a blazer and a white shirt underneath. Her eyes shone gold and danced with curiosity, one that reminded him of Bianca, and she seemed to be biting her lip so hard that he was surprised when she didn’t draw blood.

“Yeah. I mean, yes, I am Nico di Angelo.”

She put a hand to her chest, breathing heavily. “Thank god. I was beginning to think I walked into the wrong shop.”

He smiled at her small attempt to lighten the mood, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Sit, please.”

She shouldered off a bag Nico didn’t realize she had, plopping herself in the seat across from him. Their chairs were pretty tall, and he could tell she was swinging her legs under the table. She was small enough to where it was easy for to do it when Nico could stand up easily.

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments.

“So, I’m assuming your Hazel?” He asked, inwardly cringing at how delicate his voice sounded. Hazel seemed glad that he broke the silence, since she obviously had no idea how, and nodded.

“Yeah, Hazel Levesque.”

“Well, what brings you to New York, Hazel Levesque?”

She raised a brow at his odd way of talking, though didn’t bother questioning him on it. “Uh, I go to a Catholic school about an hour from here. Marie thought it was a good idea to get me away from New Orleans.”

Nico raised a brow. “You’re Catholic?”

Hazel shook her head quickly, taking a hair tie from her wrist and using it to tie her hair back.

“No. Marie thought it would be a good idea to, quote, Get good influence on me before I turn into Piper.”

Nico raised a brow, twirling the straw on his tea (he’d gotten it about half an hour ago) to keep his hands from shaking. He was done with coffee for the day.

“Okay, question one: whose Marie? And two: whose Piper?”

Hazel thumped herself on the head, sighing loudly. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” Nico reassured her, crossing his legs under the table and tapping his fingers on the table. “I’d do the same.”

She smiled at him, causing her teeth to shine against her light brown skin tone.

“Well, Marie is my mother. She likes to be called Marie. Says it ‘demands attention and focus’, whatever that means.”

Nico smirked.

“Piper’s my best friend. She goes to my school. She isn’t Catholic either, though this is the closest school her father could get for her since she’s been kicked out of so many.”

Nico snorted, and almost toppled out of his chair when Hazel shot him a warning look.

“S-Sorry. Just, uh, how many schools has she been kicked out of?”

Hazel raised a brow and sounded a bit hesitant to answer. “I think around four. What’s it to you?”

Nico bit his inner lip, trying to suppress a smile.

“I’ve been to six if it’s worth anything. Principals don’t really appreciate graffiti art on the sides of their offices.”

Hazel laughed, and Nico wasn’t sure what to do. He was never considered a funny guy; morbid, yes. Antisocial and disturbed, yeah. But, making someone laugh? That was new.

“Wow, I can’t see you doing that. Actually,” she took a closer look at his face, as though analyzing him. He shifted uncomfortably, as though her gaze was making him uncomfortable, but she didn’t seem to notice. “You have a mischievous glint. So, I guess I can see you doing that.”

Nico blinked for a moment.

“Wow. I didn’t know you could read people.”

Hazel shrugged, taking a sip of coffee she’d bought before coming back. “Yeah. Marie’s a psychic supposedly, so I guess it’s hereditary.”

Nico licked his lips, rolling his head to crack his neck. Hazel winced at the sound, though Nico didn’t notice.

“Speaking of that,” he said, placing both his feet on the ring of his chair. “How can we look nothing alike?”

Hazel scrunched her brow. “No idea. I like to think of Hades as the god himself; a selfish, uh, dude with no DNA and no cares.”

Nico was the one to laugh now. They were drawing eyes from around the shop but didn’t care, too invested in their conversation to care.

“You’ve never met him?” He asked, stirring his drink again. Hazel shook her head.

“No. You have?”

Nico nodded his head solemnly. “I hate to say I have.”

Hazel scoffed. “Why so?” She had an agitated tone, one Nico has heard many times before.

Nico looked up at her, though didn’t move his head from being downcasted for a moment. Slowly he sat back up straight. “He’s a selfish asshole that left me for dead.”

Hazel’s eyes shot open wide, suddenly sitting up straight as well. Maybe Nico was laying it on too thick, but he couldn’t find himself to care. He hated Hades. With every inch of his being.

“What?” Hazel asked, now seeming a bit confused and seemed to be seething a bit.

We may not have looks in common, he thought to himself, but we sure do have some matching personality traits.

“He hasn’t told you?”

Hazel shook her head.

“Well, I’m not from America, first of all.”

Hazel rolled her eyes, though not in annoyance, and smirked a bit. “I could tell, from the accent. What, Italy?”

Nico shook his head. “Venice, to be specific. There, uh,” he looked to Hazel. Was he alright to tell a stranger his entire life story?

Not a stranger, Nico told himself. A sibling.

“He lived with us. In Venice, that is.” Nico knew that was irrelevant, but he was trying to distract himself from the words coming from his mouth. “He lived with me, my mother, and my sister, Bianca.” Nico could tell Hazel wanted to interrupt, but she kept her mouth shut, letting him continue to talk.

“Let’s just say… I loved him. As much as I regret it, I loved the guy. He was my role model, someone I wanted to model myself after. Well, not entirely, but how he was so successful, and how he still made time for my mother and I even though he had a busy-ass schedule, he could still see us.”

Nico bit his lip and blinked repeatedly, trying to get rid of the tears threatening to run down his cheeks. No crying, he reminded himself.

“We lived in harmony. All of us except Bianca and him, anyway. Bianca’s my sister. Full blooded, not half, you know? Anyway, they always had a rocky relationship. They avoided each other, never talked often unless mama asked them both a question… I never fully understood. I remember,” he laughed bitterly, “how she would always tell me I was too young to understand. How, how she would tell me when I was older…”

He felt something hit his hand and looked down to see Hazel’s hand. She had spindly fingers, one built for a piano, not for comforting a crying teenage boy.

“Sorry,” he said, taking his hand from Hazel’s grip and wiping his eyes. “I’m a mess.”

“No,” Hazel said, taking both his hands in his and squeezing reassuringly. He stared at her for a moment, trying to process what was happening, before she began talking again.

“Continue. I’m curious.”

He smiled bitterly again.

“Anyway, it was a normal day, the day he left. Well, at least it started out normal. I woke up Bianca from our beds, we ran down the stairs and ate omelets, then we ran out to the town. Venice is different from here. America. We would run down the crowded streets, holding hands and singing songs at the tops of our lungs. Sometimes another person - a neighbor, or perhaps a student Bianca knew - and we would just… be ourselves. Bianca never sat back and watched. She got up and did. I loved her for that. So, so many other reasons, but that was… that was a major one.”

He cleared his throat again, and Hazel squeezed his hands.

“That night, our house caught fire.”

Hazel took a sharp breath, though didn’t tell him to stop. He dropped her gaze, instead studying her hands. He didn’t notice he was talking, only seeing how her hands weren’t calloused more boney. How she seemed like such a nice girl, too nice to be Hades, daughter.

Except for Bianca.

Bianca was the one exception.

“And, when they tried to contact him the next day, he was gone. No one could find him anywhere. Not even the fucking NSA could find him. But, apparently, they were looking in the wrong country…”

Hazel stood up from her chair, walking around and hugging him tightly. Nico froze. He didn’t get hugged often from anyone that wasn’t Sally. She buried her face in his collarbone, and he had to turn so they weren’t at such an awkward angle.

“I’m so, so sorry. And I know it doesn’t matter, what I say now, but god I’m sorry.”

“I live with my - I guess our - aunt at about a forty minute walk from here.” He sniffled. “She - she was the one to convince me to come here. No offense, obviously, but I was just scared…”

Hazel smiled sadly and pulled back to look at his face. He was shocked to see she was about to start crying as well.

“It’s fine. Piper and Leo were the ones to convince me to come, as well. I was scared that he would still be with you, and I would storm out - I just, I don’t get out much.”

Nico smiled sadly.

“Neither do I.”

+

Will’s life was getting a bit more exciting.

He woke up at the crack of dawn - like always - and threw back his covers. Austin was gone, on his final year of college, and Kayla was still asleep. He didn’t need to check to know that was the case.

He put on his clothes, which consisted of a ratty old red flannel and some white shirt from a band he didn’t know existed, paired with some old blue cut-off jeans he bought a few weeks ago. His hair was freshly cut, short against his sides but a bit longer on top, and his black converse.

Then he was out the door.

Will had to pick up multiple jobs to help his mom pay the bills; they were good, she would say, and Will knew that was always correct. Naomi was a nurse, so they were always good in the money department, but he felt like he was taking too much and not giving enough.

He worked at a small, family-owned restaurant down the street from his house. The family was amazing, though he felt like they were too invested with soulmates. They were constantly walking up to him, asking for a glimpse at his tattoo, since everyone in their family had already found their soulmates and they quote, Wanted to live vicariously through you as you search for your one and only true love.

Will still didn’t understand the hype completely, though he was beginning to understand.

He saw a couple at a McDonald's a few days ago. Weird, he knows, but just listen:

They were sitting, hands interlocked in the middle of their table, sharing a Happy Meal. As Will walked over, he thought they were just friends, though then he caught a glance at each other’s names on their arms.

And suddenly, he realized that he wanted that. Maybe not anytime soon, but at some point.

He just still wasn’t sure why he wanted it so badly.

Yeah, they were your soulmate. But, they’re just people. And yes, he loves his sister and his mother and his brother with all of his heart. He just couldn’t imagine feeling that and something more for another person.

It just seemed too unrealistic.

As he swung the door open to the restaurant, he was pretty surprised to find it already partially filled. They were mostly elderly couples, people who didn’t remember a time before their soulmates, and the occasional one with a grandchild. He could see one woman in the very back with her grandchild, a young girl who seemed to be in her early teens, probably only thirteen.

I can’t be more than three years older than her.

Will’s sixteenth birthday wasn’t that long ago, so it seemed like a logical estimate on her age.

“Solace!”

Will’s head snapped in her general direction, causing his neck to crack painfully. Lou Ellen, the owner’s daughter, came running out of the back bakery and full speed at him. When they crashed Will almost fell over, catching them both at the last second.

“Will! Solace, Will, we need to talk.”

“Oh god.”

Lou pulled him into the back room, away from unsuspecting eyes, and almost punched him when they got some privacy, but thankfully Will dodged.

“Lou! What the hell - ”

“Your tattoo.” She said, pointing at Will’s forearm. “Let me see it.”

“What makes you think that slapping me will get you anywhere in the soulmate department?”

She just glared at him. Will huffed, pulling back his flannel and showing his forearm. Lou jumped, grabbing his arm and inspecting it closely.

“Holy shit! You’ve got a new one,” she said, pointing at his arm. Will raised a brow, twisting around to try and get a glimpse of his mark. Apparently, all his tattoos shifted during the night, making a new face in his arms.

“Jesus Christ…” Will muttered, moving his arm around.

It was a picture of an attractive woman, one that was probably around Will’s age, with long brown hair and glowing gold eyes. The tattoo seemed to be constructed of stained glass, giving her a new, vibrant light beside the simply worded tattoos of the other two women. This girls name, though, was in English.

Hazel Levesque

She was a different skin tone to the other two - from what Will could tell, anyway - so they weren’t related. She seemed to be in mid-laugh, causing her face to seem much younger than it probably was, so Will wasn’t positive on her age, though he was probably around the correct age range.

“That’s…” Lou covered her mouth. “That’s amazing.”

“It is,” Will muttered, barely loud enough to hear himself, and continued staring for a few moments.

“Will! Lou! What the hell are you guys doing back here?” Lou’s father, an older, burly man, burst through the doors to see them both staring at his new tattoo, He sighed, waving the two off back to their jobs.

Will couldn’t take his mind off the tattoo.

It was different from the other two faces. It seemed new; refurbished. The other two seem warned down, as though older.

He decided the newest tattoo was his favorite one.

He left early that morning with Lou in tow. He was never positive why he decided to work before school started was ever a good idea, but nonetheless, he still had classes to attend.

Lou and Will didn’t have many classes together, only two, and they weren’t the most talkative people. Popular? I guess you could say that yeah. But willingly? Hell no. Will liked to stay in the background, play his baseball and get good grades so he could go to NYU’s medical program, and then maybe, maybe move there afterward. He’s always wanted to go to New York. He liked how the city never slept, that there was always something new to do or see. It was different from his suburban neighborhood, something he always thought he needed. Different.

Maybe he’d even find his soulmate there.

+

Will wasn’t the biggest fan of crowds.

He enjoyed being out and about, but not being surrounded by the same people every day after school.

He liked his teammates, don’t get him wrong, but it’s just… boring. He wanted something new. Something exciting. Something that would make his stomach turn and twist and make him want to vomit. But, vomit rainbows, and not his bowels.

He was practicing his swinging, something he was never good at. He was a better outfielder. But, of course, they already had more than enough outfielders, so he was left at either batting or pitching.

I guess it’s something exciting to put on my college application, he tried to give himself something positive to think of, but that just made it worse.

He wanted to leave, and he wanted to do it now. Not in two years, not in two months, he wanted to go now. He was getting sick of the same old house on the same old hill, with the same old friends and the same old school.

He was sick of the old.

He wanted something new.

But, for now, at least, he was just going to have to stay put.

It’s not like he gets to plan his own life out, anyway. And when would his mom let him go anywhere that wasn’t the same old house until college?

He didn’t have a choice.

So, he just swung his bat.

Chapter Three

[rippedjeansandloudmusic]

capitolo cinque

ayeeeeee Chapter Four you want to read this is a better format you should go to my Ao3, where i actually proofread because copy/pasting on tumblr sucks.

Will wasn’t sure if shaking was a good sign.

As Lou and he ran down the packed sidewalks and crossed packed streets the paper seemed to grow heavy in his pocket, just begging for Will to stop whatever he was doing and read it.

But, he didn’t.

He couldn’t give Lou Ellen the satisfaction.

So, they made their way home. Evading the homeless, street-corner-bands, and as many humans, as possible they turned down the roads. Eventually, they made it to the subway, squeezed onto a trapped car and made their way. Will had to stand beside Lou, holding onto the metal handles above their heads for both him and her. Lou was too short to reach the bar and had to resort to holding the sleeves of his flannel. They got looks from tons of different people, most of which were probably thinking they were soulmates, and Lou just rolled her eyes. Will had to apologize when, at one point, Lou flipped off one of the people who was staring. Will didn’t care for the attention, honestly, but Lou seemed dead set on not allowing people to think they were in a relationship.

When they got off the car Lou grabbed his wrist, dragging him across the cemented floor and out, once again, onto the crowded street.

When they got back to the small apartment it was a little past midnight. The place wasn’t very big, barely having two bedrooms, and almost everything was pushed into the wall. Will wasn’t sure how Hecate could live in this small apartment, even on her own. It was too crowded for Will’s liking, and he was glad to be out and about most of the time. The floors were polished wood, though underneath a small couch it was a gray carpet. The chairs for the dining room and the table itself were all folded up, pressed against the wall to let some more room into the small place. There were only five windows throughout the apartment; two in the living/dining room, one in the bathroom and one in each bedroom.

Lou didn’t even stop to grab something from the fridge, unlike most days back in Kansas where she would raid the fridge every single time they walked into a house and pulled Will back into their shared room.

Hecate didn’t find it mandatory to find a second bed, since they were childhood friends and weren’t soulmates, so they just crashed in the same twin sized bed. It had a large white comforter on top and a carpet in front of it. The room in itself was pretty small as well, only having one dresser that they had to share (aka: Lou took the dresser and Will just didn’t unpack) and a small hamper for their dirty clothing.

Lou sat on the side of the bed, pulling Will down, and hit him upside the head.

Will winced, rubbing the back of his head while glaring at Lou.

“What the hell, Lou?”

“I suggest you, Will Solace,” she poked him in the side, “read that damned letter and read it fast.”

Will raised a brow at her, though caved in, reaching into his back pocket and grabbing the letter. Though he hesitated before unfolding it.

“Why are you so adamant on me opening this, anyway?”

Lou just rolled her eyes, getting up and hitting him on the shoulder for a moment before going to exit the room. Will watched as she opened the door, almost out of the room, but she stopped before shutting it.

“Why don’t you read it and find out?”

Then she shut the door, leaving Will in almost complete darkness except for a small light fixture on the other side of the room.

Will read the logo on the front side of the napkin - Hecate’s Brewery and Coffee  - before unfolding it, careful to not rip it, and the first thing he noticed was the way it was written.

The words were carefully spaced, as though the writer was scared that Will wouldn’t be able to read their handwriting. Though every letter curved into one another, making it look more like cursive than simple printed writing. The way the words were written made it seem like his hand was too slow for his brain, having to write quickly in order to get his thoughts onto paper. Though maybe this time they wrote slower because it seemed purposely thought out more, slowing it down. He could still see the places where their pen was to close to the paper while moving to another letter, leaving faint marks of ink in between the words.

Will grabbed the lamp from the dresser and dragged it into the middle of the floor where he could sit and read the note, not wanting to harm the cord since it was too short.

Uhm, hey, I guess.

Now I don’t know how you got this letter, or if you even got it at all. Either way, it’s giving me a freaking heart attack, knowing that you’ll probably be reading this.

My name is Nico di Angelo. I’m 18, not from America, and just happen to be your soulmate.

God, this sounds like a shitty movie cliche.

But I am. As weird as it sounds.

And I know what you’re probably thinking, ‘Oh my gosh, this guy is the biggest chicken I’ve ever met.’ And, yeah, you would be right. I’m scared shitless. Most people could approach their soulmate no problem. Maybe throw out a witty one-liner and get the guy/girl. But, I’m not your average Joe. In fact, I’m about far from it.

And I don’t know if you’re against soulmates. Some people are, I hear, and I would literally fucking die if I approached you and you called me out or something.

And you are probably also thinking about how I could be lying. That’s understandable since I would be thinking the same thing. Well, I do have some proof, though I could tell you without showing you as well.

I guess I could give a small description of one of my marks, perhaps?

One of them is of a baseball mitt with a name seemingly embroidered on the palm. Naomi.

Also, you happen to have my sister’s face on your arm. The girl, the absolutely magnificent stained glass tattoo? Yeah, she’s my sister. Hard to believe, I know better than you, but true. She recently turned sixteen, actually, and is going to a Catholic school ways downtown.

And I know that you’re putting blind trust in a man you don’t even know. Hell, I don’t even know your name! But, I am hoping that you’re willing to give me a chance. And, if you don’t, at least let me know that you did.

Those other tattoos… I’d love to share the story.

Though only if you let me.

515-808-2362

-di Angelo

Now you understand why the famous Will Solace was shaking.

While reading the letter, though, he noticed how there were small rips every so often. At the very end, where Nico signed his last name, the ‘l’ almost ripped the entire bottom half of the page off. Will could see where he had to tape the page back together.

This is a shitty cliche, Will thought to himself. But you added your own flare.

It was amazing to think that he had actually met his soulmate that day. Sure, he had an odd vibe about the knockoff-hipster the entire night, though he thought that was normal.

Obviously, it wasn’t.

Remember earlier, where Will said he didn’t feel the need to want to know everything about Nico di Angelo? Yeah, he now had that gut feeling.

He didn’t want to call him, though. Who knows where he could be? Possibly even asleep.

Would you sleep, Will thought, If you just made such a big step towards your soulmate? Probably not.

So Will picked up his phone and dialed the number on the paper.

+

Nico was shaking.

He knew exactly why he was shaking, though. He was crawling with nerves. His arm had goosebumps and his teeth were chattering, though that could’ve easily been from the cold of the night. It was almost never this cold. While walking down the streets of New York City you would almost always get heat from the many bodies you would pass by. One time he was knocked back and forth by the same two people all down Broadway with Hazel after seeing a show. Most of the time he would sweat from the constant brushing up against people.

Now he probably could’ve been in an oven and still been colder than a popsicle.

Hazel was blowing up his phone with How could you! -s and What happened to sticking to the plan?! -s almost all the way home. He didn’t reply, though, until he was back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling of Bianca and Maria.

“What the fuck, di Angelo?” Hazel’s voice shot at him. “What happened to keeping them apart until they were about to die?”

Nico thought for a moment before replying.

“Plans changed,” he replied, as bland as ever, his voice shockingly monotone considering the circumstances.

“Of course, Nico, that’s blatantly obvious.”

Nico didn’t respond. He could hear Hazel’s heavy breathing through the speaker of his phone. Speaking of his phone it was thrown across his bed, at the foot to be exact, while on speaker.

Hazel seemed to realize his ill response and said something more.

“Neeks, what’s wrong?”

Nico winced, thinking about the nickname.

“You know,” he responded, sure his voice sounded muffled because of his phone being face down. “Bianca called me that for a while.”

Nico could hear Hazel stop walking.

“Huh? Nico, I know that. You’ve already told me.”

“I did?” he wondered aloud, not remembering the occasion.

“Yeah,” she responded, resuming her walking. “Nico, what’s wrong?”

Nico huffed, sending a piece of hair that was in front of his face flying.

“I met my soulmate.”

Hazel stopped walking (again).

“What!” She said so loud it was more of a scream. Nico could hear her yelling in glee from the other side of the line. He felt a smile break through his features, and found himself biting back a laugh to avoid waking Sally.

“That’s great, Neeks! So why are you upset?”

Nico’s smile dissipated. He didn’t respond, which of course sent Hazel’s mind spinning out of control. “Wait,” she said after a moment of deliberation. “Did you not talk to him?”

He didn’t respond.

“NICO DI ANGELO! What the hell!”

“I’m sorry!” he said, scrambling to grab his phone. He eventually took it off the speaker to keep Hazel’s voice from getting too loud.

“I just - I - I panicked!”

“Well, Nico, I’m panicking too!”

“Now can you imagine my pain?”

Hazel hesitated.

“Slightly.”

“Okay then.”

They were silent for a few seconds.

“I’m coming over.”

Nico blinked a few times, taking his phone from his ear to glance at the time for a second. “Hazel, it’s past midnight. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Though he knew he didn’t have a say in the matter.

“Too late. Buzz me in.”

“What the fuck? How did you get here so quickly?” He jumped down from his upper bunk, grabbing his black hoodie from the floor and throwing it on.

“I was going to come over anyway,” Nico could hear her feet hitting against the steps outside through the phone. “You just gave me a valid reason to.”

“Won’t the school want you back?”

“The school can suck it. My brother was an idiot and now needs my emotional support during this hard time. Buzz me in.”

Nico got up, whispering obscenities at Hazel as he walked over to their front door and buzzed Hazel in. She was up in a new record time and flung the door open, almost killing Nico when she ran in.

“Nico di Angelo!” She yelled, and Nico yelped. Flying forward and slamming a hand over her mouth.

“Shhh!” He muttered, sparing a glance to Sally’s room. A few seconds later when the door didn’t open he sighed, removing his hand from her mouth.

“Ew,” he muttered, wiping the palm of his hands on his boxers. “Why the hell did you lick me?”

“Don’t put your hand over my mouth, Neeks, and I won’t lick you.”

Hazel shoved past him, marching towards his bedroom. He followed quickly, shutting the door behind him. Hazel threw her bag onto the bottom bunk, taking off her shoes and her jean jacket.

“Where’s Percy?” She asked, throwing her jacket at Nico. Nico rolled his eyes, tossing the jacket onto the back of his office chair and collapsing next to her on the bed.

“Probably out with Annabeth. He said he’d probably be back at around two, so don’t be scared when four people stumble in here drunk off their ass.”

“Four?”

“Piper.”

“Oh… you’re right. Though, aren’t they all underage?”

Nico shook his head, waving a hand towards the light at the front of the room, motioning for Hazel to turn it off. She rolled her eyes but obliged, flickering the light off before collapsing next to him again.

“Percy and Jason turned twenty one a few months ago. Annabeth, she’s underage, so she won’t drink. But we both know Piper could talk anyone into getting her a drink.”

“It’s sad how true that is.”

Nico nodded, leaving the room in silence for a moment. Eventually Hazel got up, discarding her jeans and pulling on a pair of Nico’s old sweatpants he had grown out of a few years prior. Why he had those he wasn’t sure. She also stole a hair tie from his floor (he needed to clean the room) and pulled her hair back.

“Okay, let’s get to business.”

She sat beside him, heaving him to his ass and pushing him back to the wall of the room.

“Soulmate. Details. Spill.”

Nico groaned, though didn’t object, and began talking.

He wasn’t sure how long he was talking for, probably about ten minutes, though when she wanted details she wanted details. Some of her, might he say bizarre, questions were, quote:

Hair color: “A bright blonde. It was really shaggy like he hadn’t cut it in months which I didn’t really understand but it didn’t matter because holy shit he was hot.”

Eye color: “The brightest blue you’ve ever seen. Hazel, it was ridiculous. Like, fucking, uh, like the fucking Pacific Ocean blue. Oh my god, he was hot.”

Clothing: “A flannel with a freaking amazing graphic t-shirt under it that had the word Sarcasm on it.”

Height: “How the fuck am I supposed to know that?”

Where he was from: “Somewhere south. He had a slight southern accent.”

Best friend: “I don’t fucking know. Uh, maybe the girl he was working with? Lou, I think.”

And a bunch of different ones he didn’t remember.

When they were finished Hazel whistled, remarking how impressive it was that he got all that information via stalking someone and a two minute conversation. Normally, Nico would’ve retorted, saying how he knew she was staring at one at some guy for a solid ten minutes while they were at McDonald’s, though instead he just nodded solemnly.

“Holy shit,” Hazel whispered, poking his face as though he’d turned into an alien. Nico batted her hand away, though Hazel still smiled. “You look dead inside.”

“I am dead inside, Hazel.”

“And angsty, too.”

“Please, just shut up.”

Hazel snorted, grabbing her phone from his nightstand and getting the time.

“It’s almost three. They should be here sometime soon.”

“Wait, I blabbered on about a stranger for three hours and you didn't stop me?”

Hazel shrugged, not even bothering to hide the smile growing on her face. “You looked star struck. It was cute.”

Nico scowled, burying his face in the pillow he was resting against and groaning. Hazel just laughed.

“So, how are we going to find our Mystery Man, huh?”

Nico flopped over, now biting his lip at the boards above him.

“Hopefully he calls…”

Hazel froze.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘HOPEFULLY HE CALLS’?”

Nico shot upward, covering her mouth again, though she just pushed him off and dove for his phone.

“You gave him your number?” She asked, though it was more of a scream, and jumped up from her spot on the bed. Nico followed her, jumping to get his phone, which he eventually got back, though Hazel still almost killed him in the process. Before much more damage could be done, though, the front door to the apartment opened and one drunk teen and three adults came streaming in.

Hazel looked at Nico with a fire beneath her eyes. “This conversation isn’t over.” Were her last words before she opened the bedroom door and disappeared into the next room.

“Let’s hope this night ends better than I anticipated…” Nico murmured, following his sister into the next room.

+

Will was shaking.

It’s been an eternity since Will had last laid eyes on the letter, (three hours to be exact but who's keeping track?) and he was still panicking. His mind was racing with what he should say versus what he was probably going to say. How he could approach the situation and how he would inevitably. How he wanted it to end and how it probably would.

God, I’m fucked.

Lou was still out the room, probably passed out on the couch at this point, though Will couldn’t find himself to care. He was kind of glad she never came back in - thank her girly intuition about guys - so he could have time to plan. Honest to god he almost got out a cork board and started fucking planning out his response.

God, I’m a nerd.

Eventually he got to the roof

He wasn’t sure how he got there exactly. Probably via the fire escape, though he floated up with wings that magically appeared on his shoes.

The sky was beautiful. He couldn’t see the blue or the white clouds, but he could see the stars. He couldn’t point out many constellations since he was never the type for astronomy, but now he wishes he had. It was almost completely clear, giving him the view of different shapes in the atmosphere.

He knew the basic ones. Orion’s Belt, the Big Dipper, and maybe another, but nothing major. He didn’t know Aries or Cassiopeia or the Northern Star. Only of the ones his mother would point out to him. The only ones she knew.

His bare feet hit against the cold of the apartment roof, his head cast upward and mouth open in awe.

“This is beautiful…” Will thought to himself. How had he not done this before? Just escaped outside his room back in Kansas and watched the sky?

Well, he probably has. It’s just, up here in New York, the sky is almost perpetually polluted. You almost never got a clear sky.

Which made this all that much better.

He knew the sun was going to come up any time now, so he wasn’t going to have long here. Who knew how long it would be until he got to see this sight again? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? He didn’t know. So he knew he had to make the most of it.

He unlocked his phone, typing the number he memorized into the keypad and held it to his ear.

God, I’m so going to regret this in the morning…

The phone was ringing in his ear, almost sounding deafening despite the sound of busing cars below.

He stayed like that for a moment, only just then the reality of what he was doing settling in.

I’m calling my soulmate. At three in the morning. On the roof of a random apartment building.

He suddenly wanted to hang up.

But…

The inevitability of what the night could bring…

How this was his second day, only his second day in New York and he’d already met his soulmate?

Well, it’s technically the third day since he got there, but same thing.

As Will was having his internal monolog the person on the other end picked up, yelling at other people surrounding them and eventually leaving the apartment to get some clearing.

“Hello?” Nico’s voice came through, a bit annoyed, though Will decided to ignore that.

“Uh, hey,” He replied, and he could barely hear the person on the other end’s breathing stop.

“Uh, uhm, holy shit, uh, hi?”

Will laughed, almost doubling over for a second, but instead deciding to lay down.

On the ground.

Of the roof of his apartment.

At three in the morning.

Was he going crazy?

Will took a minute before responding, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I honestly have no idea what I’m doing,” He said honestly, laughing breathlessly. “Calling you at three in the morning.”

Nico laughed as well, something thumping on his end.

“I would say the same, though I’m babysitting some drunks. What’s your excuse?”

Will sighed, though couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that formed in his chest. They were having a normal conversation. This wasn’t going as bad as he thought it would be.

“Don’t have one.”

“That’s nice,”

“Not really, when you think about it.”

It took a minute for anyone to continue the conversation.

“So, uh, why did you call me?”

Will shrugged, though soon realized Nico couldn’t see him through the phone.

“I don’t have a reason. I know it’s stupid, calling at three in the morning, but… guess I decided there’s no better time than now. Oh,” Will sat up. “My name’s Will, by the way. Will Solace.”

He could hear the wisp of breath coming from the other end.

“Nico. Nico di Angelo.”