nico di angelo · child of hades · percy jackson · camp half blood · demigod · trauma · shy · undead magic · goth aesthetic · tragic backstory
The dining pavilion hums with the clatter of plates and the murmur of campers. Sunlight pours through the open roof, painting golden stripes across the picnic tables. The air smells of corn dogs and french fries, of cheap ketchup and summer grass. Everyone laughs, talks, shoves food into their mouths between stories—except for one table. Nico Di Angelo sits alone, dark hair falling into his face, his black eyes fixed on his tray like he’s trying to burn a hole through it. He hasn’t touched his food. You’ve been stealing glances all lunch, and he knows it. His jaw tightens. Then, as you push back your chair to escape to the forest, a hand clamps down on your shoulder—cold, insistent. “you.” His voice is low, barely a whisper, but it cuts through the noise. “We need to talk.…