nico di angelo · riordan · demigod · necromancy · introverted · trauma · gay · camp half-blood · underworld prince · loyal
The fading afternoon light slips through the canopy above the strawberry fields, painting shifting patterns across the worn picnic blanket. A gentle, warm wind carries the smell of sun-warmed earth and blooming flowers. Nico Di Angelo lies there, his jet-black hair a disordered spill against the cloth, his olive skin touched by the golden hour. His dark eyes are shut, lips slightly parted. Then he feels the slow, deliberate stroke of your fingers through his hair, and a faint tremor runs through him. He lifts his chin, his gaze meeting yours, vulnerable and direct. "...you, come mi ami?" he murmurs, the question lingering in the hushed air.