When The Sun Goes Dark: A solangelo fanfiction

Chapter 11: Camp Jupiter

Chapter 11

Nico P.O.V

New Rome was as incredible as always. It had taken us a while to get through to the Heart of Camp Jupiter— we had to unload the rest of those coming back to camp Jupiter. They were ten minutes late, which usually would be a great point of anger to Reyna. However no one could really ever yell at Hazel, to my happiness.

Anyone who makes my sister cry, has a death wish.

We had indulged in a lot of pointless conversation. Weary glances were passed my way, which was no surprise to me. To all the glares I got, I just glared back in full.

Will though, seemed strangely. . . Protective? Not that I would suggest I'm anyone who needs protection. It still felt weirdly nice.

The boy who practically reeked sunshine, glared at anyone who dared whisper about me as if I couldn't hear. He had done the same thing to those who said things about Piper, Lou, and Ellen. Some of the campers still thought of us Greeks as nothing but scum.

"Graecus scum" they would whisper when they thought no one could hear, and Will would immediately step in front of us, to stare them down.

Genuinely I felt a surge of appreciation. But it still rubbed me the wrong way. Will was always protective of his friends, but he was almost—possessive? Especially towards me.

"Solace, are you okay?" I asked, after he had just stepped in front of me.

"What's wrong with people I swear? Why do they hate us so much?" He asked with a huff. I looked at his usual smiling face, which now bore a scowl. His eyes looked almost glazed over. "And why do they hate you so much, I mean weren't you really respected here?"

I shrugged "Being respected and liked isn't the same thing, besides some see me as some sort of traitor to Rome." He looked like he was going to protest, to stomp his feet on the ground and whine about how that makes no sense. To avoid that conversation a solid red on pushing my way past the crowds so I got to where Hazel was.

"Nico, could you help us lift this?" She asked, gesturing to a pile of boxes scattered upon the ground.

Loads of officers formed in line, lifting the boxes in rows. They were strong and orderly. It was such a far pace from camp half blood. I thought.

"Need some help?" I asked a tall soldier struggling to lift the boxes. He had tan skin, and straight hair cut in buzzed style. He was strong, I could tell, muscles lining his form. But I was stronger than I could guarantee that. He had that sort of look in his eyes that was similar to ones in the Ares kids back at camp, an almost glint of red in them.

His eyes drifted up and down my body, before raising an eyebrow and letting out a loose stark laugh. I resisted the urge to coil up on myself. He was paying too much attention to me. I wished he just told me no, or just said yes and I could've helped in silence.

"Im good sweetheart. Somehow doubt you could lift anything like this." I scowled at his use of the word sweetheart. Many campers used it while addressing me— which I still had utterly no idea why. But the way he said it wasn't the same.

Unlike the Aphrodite campers who over compensated, trying to lure me into a makeover. Or like the healers, who would say it after ruffling my hair and sending me on my way accompanied with a "Make sure Wills taking break!". Nothing like the older forest nymphs who bake a batch of cookies for me after I would bring down pesky animals clinging to their branches.

Those ways were—albeit annoying— endearing.

I marched my way to the boxes, and lifted it up with ease. The boy—whatever his name was, looked at me with newfound respect. And something else I couldn't quite place. But I wasn't sure I liked it.