WAIT FOR ME [ nico di angelo ]

Taturus can be calming

NICO SMELT OF smoke. Louis didn't think he smelt any better though. The sooty smell was comforting surprisingly. It reminded him of all the times he'd spent sitting around a fire with Reyna, having late night talks. He missed Reyna, and he wondered if she was ok. He hoped she was ok. She wasn't in Tartarus at least, so that definitely meant she was at least ok.

A comfortable silence set over the two, both resting as much as they could while they had the chance.

“We could’ve fallen into the River Lethe,” Louis said, breaking the silence. “Lost all our memories.”

"Not all. I don't think I could ever forget you."

Louis smiled at Nico's words. It was one of the kindest things he'd ever been told. That's one of the great things he loved about their friendship. Nico made Louis feel important and appreciated. Their unlikey friendship was one to shock many, but it worked, and Nico made Louis a happier person, ans vise versa.

"Really?" Louis replied, a happiness seeping into his voice.

"Yeah," Nico agreed. "Your ideas are so delusional it's hard not to forget."

Louis' smile faded and was replaced with sarcasm. "Oh ha ha, very funny."

Of course Nico would never compliment him, that'd be like the world flipping upside down

Louis gazed across the ashen plains.  Overlooking the particles floating through the blood-colored clouds or lurking in that dark fog. Even in such a depressing place, Louis felt calm during this moment. Nico's head lay resting on his shoulder, a comfortable silence forming between the two, and Louis actually felt ok for the first time being here.

Nico interrupted Louis' relaxation. “We should keep moving. You want some more fire to drink?”

“Ugh. I’ll pass.”

Reluctantly, they struggled to their feet. The rest of the cliff looked impossible to descend—nothing more than a crosshatching of tiny ledges—but they kept climbing down.

Louis' body went on autopilot. His fingers cramped. He felt blisters popping up on his ankles. He got shaky from hunger. Deffintly not his ideal day.

He wondered if they would die of starvation, or if the firewater would keep them going.

A billion years later, with a dozen new blisters on his feet, they reached the bottom and collapsed on the ground.

Ahead of them stretched miles of wasteland, bubbling with monstrous larvae and big insect-hair trees. To their right, the Phlegethon split into branches that etched the plain, widening into a delta of smoke and fire. To the north, along the main route of the river, the ground was riddled with cave entrances. Here and there, spires of rock jutted up like exclamation points.

Under Louis' hand, the soil felt alarmingly warm and smooth. He tried to grab a handful, then realized that under a thin layer of dirt and debris, the ground was a single vast membrane…like skin.

He almost threw up, but forced himself not to. There was nothing in his stomach but fire.

He didn’t mention it to Nico, but he started to feel like something was watching them—something vast and malevolent. He couldn’t zero in on it, because the presence was all around them. Watching was the wrong word, too. That implied eyes, and this thing was simply aware of them. The ridges above them now looked less like steps and more like rows of massive teeth. The spires of rock looked like broken ribs. And if the ground was skin…

Nico noticed Louis' uneasiness. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Your lying."