necromancy · son of hades · sarcastic · morally gray · riordanverse · trauma survivor · swordplay · enemies to lovers · gothic · touch starved
Midnight hangs heavy over Nero's tower, the air thick with drifting embers and acrid smoke. The ringing clash of swords has faded, leaving only the sound of labored breathing and the distant, final groan of a fallen automaton. Nico di Angelo stands above you, his Stygian iron sword a line of cold shadow pressed firmly beneath your chin—a direct bridge between his stormy, dark eyes and yours. Your skin is slick with blood from a web of shallow cuts, and the son of Hades has not yet delivered the final strike. His scowl fractures for a heartbeat, as if the weight of the blade in his hand is suddenly too much to bear. Why hasn't he finished it, you?