Chapter Text
Nico hadn't wondered what would happen next, hadn't spent time to stop and really think about what he was doing. He had just acted out of the enthusiasm of the moment, the excitement, the happiness, and the adrenaline for the end of the war still too strong and alive in his mind for him to feel the need to worry about something that right now felt so small and unimportant compared to everything else.
After all, if he had survived everything until now, this was nothing, wasn't it?
In that moment, Nico felt light, calm like he hadn't felt in a long time, in too much time; because he felt like he could finally say he had found a home, because Will had just told him he saw him as a friend, and because, after all, letting himself be crushed in Jason's hug hadn't been all that bad.
In that moment, Nico felt good.
And so, when he saw him, he didn't stop to think twice about going to Percy and telling him what he had kept secret for so many years, telling him the thing he had been strenuously fighting and kept losing against.
I had a crush on you. You're cute but you're not my type.
Those words, Nico knew all too well, couldn't even come close to what his feelings for Percy had been. Those few, bland words couldn't encompass all the pain the son of Hades had felt, everything he had done for Percy, all the things he had yearned for and could never have.
And yet, those words were exactly what he said.
Nico had tried many times to picture the moment he would finally confess his feelings, the moment when, finally, Percy Jackson would understand what he meant for him, the exact moment he would see the realization dawning on him and shining in his sea green eyes.
Honestly, Nico had always thought he could spend hours on end just talking about what he felt for Percy without even really touching the surface of it.
But then, what even would have been the point now?
Percy was happy with Annabeth, they would leave for New Rome and finally enjoy the peace that they so deserved; and really, Nico was happy for them, he had moved on from the feelings that had been tormenting him for years. Really.
You're cute, but you're not my type.
It was little – no, it was nothing compared to what he would have wanted to say, but it was enough. At that point, it was everything that needed to be said. It was all he needed to finally feel free from it.
It was only when he turned around and faced away from Percy and Annabeth that the weight of what he had just done really hit him and, for a handful of terrible and terrifying seconds, he panicked, the urge to disappear as soon and as far as possible gripping him so ferociously he felt himself stagger, his eyes unconsciously looking for shadows.
He hadn't thought about the consequences, he hadn't thought about the obvious fact that, after that, he would definitely see Percy again and that he would most probably not be brave enough to even look him in the eyes.
Still, he walked away with his head held as high as he could, and with every step he took he could feel his face growing more and more hot but, at the same time, step after step he could feel something else bloom inside him, right next to the panic: a tiny glint of satisfaction for what he had been able to do and, despite everything, a small smile made its way on his lips.
He wondered if Cupid was finally proud of him.
He should really have expected it was not so easy to make the gods of love happy.
During the following three days, the son of Hades tried his best not to think, to put everything aside for the time being: the war that had just ended and all the damages that the Camp had sustained; he tried to keep Octavian and his terrible end (because of you, a little malicious voice kept whispering to him) to a hidden corner of his mind; he tried to forget that, lost in the adrenaline of the moment, he had confessed his feelings to Percy and that, sooner or later, he would have to face it.
Nico knew Percy well enough to be pretty sure that, the next time they would see each other, the son of Poseidon definitely wouldn't pretend that nothing had happened.
Part of him wished for that moment to come as soon as possible; but there was another part, a part of him that Nico unsuccessfully tried to ignore, that dreaded the day when he would have to, once and for all, really talk with Percy.
That part of himself made him feel like a coward.
Now, thinking back to the way Percy's way had turned so shocked when he had heard Nico's words, he found himself smiling, just a tiny bit: after all, it was undoubtedly hard to leave Percy Jackson speechless, and in some way he felt proud of himself for having been able of doing it.
During the three days he spent in the infirmary, Nico rested more than he had ever managed to do since he had found out about being a demigod, and maybe even before that. He allowed himself to sleep and to be taken care of by Will, and somehow those seventy-two hours felt like they lasted a mere instant and, at the same time, an eternity.
Honestly, Nico shouldn't have been so surprised that his long awaited peace of mind would mercilessly be ruined by someone who, despite having seen him only once, he knew all too well.
Favonius showed up abruptly in the darkness of cabin thirteen, bringing along with him a spark of light that vanished right after, quickly as it had arrived. The God of the West Wind hadn't changed a bit since the last time they had seen each other: red tank-top, Bermuda shorts, and sandals, looking ready to spend a whole day at the beach; in the darkness of the room, his wings and curly dark hair made him appear sinister and mischievous, and Nico knew it wasn't far from the truth.
For a handful of seconds, the god let his eyes wander around, then turned his gaze on the demigod before him.
Before he could open his mouth and say a word, Nico stood up, ready to face him. He had been caught off guard by him once already, he would not let it happen again.
“What do you want?”
Despite everything, he couldn't help but get defensive: his past encounters with Cupid and his servants hadn't exactly been enjoyable.
Favonius looked at him, his eyes shining amidst the shadows of the room, and Nico wanted nothing more than to wipe out the smirk curving his lips.
“I've been watching you for a long time, Nico di Angelo; and I do not think it's yet the moment to stop doing so”.
“I don't need you to keep an eye on me”.
“I think you do”, he replied, and fell into silence after that, as if waiting for Nico to tell him something.
Usually, Nico loved the silence; silence lets you think and, most importantly, if you're surrounded by silence it often means you're alone, or in the company of the dead, at most. Nico was comfortable when he was surrounded by silence and quietness. Now, though, the last thing he wanted was to remain in silence like that, while Favonius kept staring at him, observing his every move.
“What do you want? What do you want from me?”, he finally said through gritted teeth.
Not that he couldn't easily imagine the reason for that visit, even without the god telling him.
“I saw what you did”.
Of course Nico understood right away what Favonius meant. He released the palms of his hands that he hadn't realized he had tightened into fists, and let out a small laugh.
“I guess you and Cupid are finally happy. I've been honest, haven't I?”, he said, trying his best to ignore the slight tone of uncertainty he himself could hear in his voice.
“My master told you already, love doesn't always make you happy”.
“I'm not in love with him anymore”.
Favonio smiled at him, a tender and compassionate smile, and that look made Nico feel like a helpless child, crushed under the weight of those eyes that seemed to be able to read in the deepest recesses of his soul and know of him even more than he himself did.
“It's not so easy to leave behind a love so strong, son of Hades. Don't fool yourself”.
Those words hit him harder than he would admit. Because he knew, he knew perfectly well that what he had told Percy was not even remotely comparable to what he had actually felt – he didn't need anyone else (he didn't need a god, less of all) to tell him.
But that didn't mean he wasn't strong enough to move on.
All at once, Nico felt an uncontrollable rage burning inside him. He was furious. Who did Favonius think he was, to speak to him like that? Who did he think he was, to have the right to tell him he couldn't move on from Percy Jackson? Not even Aphrodite herself could tell him who he was or was not in love with.
Gods, always eager to put their noses in demigods' lives. But they would not choose him this time.
“Leave”, he growled.
“Don't keep lying to yourself, Nico”.
“Leave”, he said again, ignoring the almost fatherly-like tone Favonius was speaking to him with, and somehow managing to keep enough self-control to not start screaming,
Favonius sighed defeated but then, right before disappearing, he fixed his eyes on Nico again, confident and determined.
“We'll meet again, Nico”.
After a few long moments, the son of Hades could finally breathe normally again. He let himself fall on the bed, exhausted like he had just finished fighting a battle – a battle against who, though? Against Favonius, or against himself?
He lifted an arm up to his face to cover his eyes, and couldn't help the thought that, perhaps, Favonius was right, and they would meet again.