Through the Ice ― Nico di Angelo & Will Solace

―ix. southern charm

THEY REACHED WILL'S HOUSE just as the sky was turning that pretty purple-pink with the sunset. The streetlights were only just starting to click on as Will landed the chariot right in his empty driveway, lighting up the road enough for Isaac to see the perfectly manicured lawn and tasteful porch decor welcoming them to the Solace house. There was no sign of snow, which meant another round of hunting down the troublesome Texan blizzard. 

"Home sweet home!" Will announced, hopping eagerly out of the chariot as if he had all the energy in the world. 

"You made fun of me for being old money, meanwhile you live in a McMansion?" Isaac demanded. 

"What can I say? Country music pays well," Will said with a shrug. "And besides, you are old money. You're related to Julius freaking Caesar." 

"So, more like ancient money," Nico put in. 

"Old denarii," Will suggested.

Isaac rolled his eyes. "At least my house has an appropriate number of bedrooms for a family of four." 

"Technically, we only have four bedrooms," Will said, leading the way to the front door. He rooted around in a flowerbed, producing a lockbox that he quickly unlocked and shook a key out. "The rest were converted—recording studio, home office, gym." 

"Not helping your case," Isaac said. 

"Hey, if you don't wanna sleep in a nice warm bed, I'm sure the pegasi will let you crash with them in the backyard," Will said. 

Isaac narrowed his eyes at him. "Just open the door, Solace." 

Visibly amused, Will did just that. He pushed the door open, herding Nico and Isaac inside before he started fiddling with the alarm system, resetting it before it could go off and call the cops on them. 

Once they'd all toed their shoes off at the door, Will led the way through the entryway and flipped on lights as he went, illuminating his childhood home in all its glory. Hardwood floors gleamed under their feet and expensive-looking rugs; knick-knacks and books dominated the shelves built into the left wall. It smelled like clean linen and potpourri—like a spread in some home decor magazine might smell if it... y'know, had a smell besides paper. 

"It's so clean," Nico commented. 

"Housekeepers come by every other week when my mom's out of town," Will said absently. "Mom likes coming home to a clean house." 

"Who doesn't?" Isaac stepped up to the fireplace. "Are these all you?" 

Nico joined him, picking up one of the many baby pictures displayed on the mantel. "First time trying cake?" 

Will hurried over to them, face turning pink as he saw the picture Nico was holding—a towheaded, squishy-cheeked baby with baby blue frosting all over his face. "We—we don't have to look at those—" 

"But you were such a cute baby," Isaac teased as he picked up a framed picture of toddler-Will in bright yellow swim floaties and duck-patterned trunks, a thick layer of sunscreen making his face ghost-white.

Nico leaned over to look at it, laughing. "Oh my gods." 

"I hate you both," Will grumbled. 

Nico snorted. "Sure you do," he said. "Would this make you feel better?" 

He pulled something out of his pocket and showed it to Will, who immediately burst out laughing. "Is that Isaac?"

Isaac was immediately afraid. "What is that?"