~ a i n t n o r e s t f o r t h e w i c k e d ~ ★彡
❝ THERE AINT NO REST FOR THE WICKED, UNTILL WE CLOSE OUR EYES FOR GOOD. ❞
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DAWN RATHER LIKED THE YOUNGER, BROWN EYED SON OF PLUTO. He'd always been somewhat of an outcast at camp—an underdog, to some. Most of the campers tended to stay away from him in fear that he'd accidentally open up a giant hole to tartarus.
A literal one way ticket to hell.
Nico Di'Angelo always had a slight demented look in his eyes. Like he'd seen things, bad things. He was pale with deep, black curly hair and bark purple bags around his eyes. He radiated a powerful aura. Pure darkness.
Honestly, Dawn didn't see what the big deal was about him being a child of Pluto. She knew deep, deep down, he was just a ray of sunshine.
But he was also lethal so— y'know. Not so sunshine.
Mostly, Nico stayed away from everyone—except for his sister, Hazel, and Dawn, who's nature pretty much contradicted the boy's.
At first, Nico had always been a bit of a mystery to Dawn and Reyna. He'd show up at camp randomly and then leave the next day. His sword was an unusual iron for most Romans (it was suspiciously similar to Percy's.) and whenever he spoke, you could be sure what he had to say was important.
Though, despite this, Dawn made it her goal to get somewhat close to him. In the past, (and after a lot of persuading and nagging on Dawn's part,) the two would meet in private. The content of their meetings varied. Some days they'd just meet up to talk, other's, could be spent training or sitting in comfortable silence. Dawn especially liked the days where he'd share and read poetry to her. Sometimes Hazel joined them too.
Dawn didn't know where he got the poetry, she assumed he stole it from his dad, but nevertheless, she enjoyed it heavily.
That being said, she was extremely surprised to come back from perimeter patrol and see the son of Pluto casually chatting with the amnesiac son of Neptune.
Oh, god Water Boy's probably asking a thousand questions per minute.
For a moment, she watched from afar with a smirk on her face waiting for Nico to notice her.
His deep, brown—almost black eyes met her's and she almost let out a laugh. In one hand, he was gripping his sword tightly in discomfort, the other was holding onto Hazel's beside him. He sent her a look that said something like: I swear if you don't get over here and shut him up, I'll stop buying you chocolate muffins when we hang out.
