Nico and Will - Beginning at the Infirmary [Solangelo fanfic]

A Drawing in the Shadows

Nico left the Dining Pavilion long before the echoes of laughter and camaraderie had ceased. The last thing he needed was someone noticing his departure and trying to stop him on his way out. "But you'll miss the sing-along contest," he could imagine Jason telling him.

Nico did what he did best. He fell into the shadows, slinking off into the background. He thought of returning to his cabin, but that'd probably be the first place Jason would go to check-in on him. Nico gritted his teeth. I've never needed anyone before. Not in Tartarus, and certainly not now, he thought to himself. He couldn't understand why Jason felt this need to impart his warmth onto him. Ever since Bianca's death, the shadows had been where Nico felt most at home. They brought more comfort to him than the outside world ever had. There was no pain in being alone if it was something you'd come to expect.

Nico wandered through the darkness for a short while, drowning out the sound of cheery campfire music drifting through the breeze with his own thoughts. He made his way towards the empty shores of the Long Island Sound. Taking a seat in a shady, damp spot near the edge of the camp boundary, Nico began to trace curves in the sand. He allowed his fingers to dance across the sludge, occasionally unsheathing his Stygian Iron sword to punctuate more profound edges within the drawing. His mind, normally a raucous chamber filled with unrelenting noise, cleared. All that existed was his fingers scratching through the frigid, coarse grains. 

He drew until his fingernails were caked with sand, and his fingertips were numb from the cold. His eyelids grew heavy as exhaustion began to hinder his movement. He laid his head down beside the face he'd etched into the sand--a face with lively curly hair and scintillating, sunny eyes. The face was paired with a slim, strong torso attached to muscled arms with callused yet gentle hands. Healing hands.

For the first time all day, Nico felt his heart rate begin to go down. As the sea breeze tickled his cheeks, he relaxed against the familiar embrace of solitude. He pulled his arms out of his oversized leather jacket and draped it over himself like a blanket. He tilted his face to the side to face his creation within the sand. His vision blurred. As he blinked away his tears, he allowed the salt water to wash over the kind eyes he'd brought to life on the ground. The eyes melted away, in one sudden movement, a wave rose up to claim the rest of the figure. 

Nico inched backward, pulling himself away from the water before closing his eyes and allowing the darkness of the night wash over him.