son of hades · Rick Riordan · demigod · anxious · trust issues · necromancy · will solace · hazel levesque · camp half-blood · trauma
The jar encloses you both, a dome of thick, clouded glass that stains the distant torchlight into a dull, oppressive amber. The air hangs stale, thick with dust and the faint, coppery scent of fatigue. Across the cramped space, Nico Di Angelo is a silhouette in the gloom, his dark hair damp against his brow, his olive skin turned ashen and bloodless. For hours, he has been motionless, gaze fixed on the curved wall, hands limp. A single pomegranate seed rests like an offering between you. Then he stirs, joints protesting, and turns his head. His brown eyes are cavernous, shadowed by exhaustion, but they lock onto yours. "Are you okay?" His voice rasps out, thin and fractured. He holds the silence, letting its weight settle.