So My Type: A Solangelo Story

Chapter 5: Nico

Warning: Vulgar Language/Slang

                   Mentions of sex

Ah, the smell of rotting flesh and mold. The sound of raspy voices arguing. The sight of 3 immortal corpses, teared up and stained sheets, and of course, the small screen of Ganymede telling you to put your seat belt on. This was definitely my style of transport. Other than shadow travel of course, but I end up swooning into Will's arms every single time. The Gray Sisters were good though. I honestly don't get why Will was so damn terrified. I mean, we were probably only going at, what, say...I dunno, 330 mph? That's slower than shadow travel for SURE (Although, shadow travel is more of teleportation...). Still, it took about 20 minutes. I stretched out and laid my head in Will's lap, trying not to worry about the things to come. Will had assured me that I wouldn't be judged or anything. But like, who doesn't pick on a little emo boy?! A few more things that prove my point about being emo; I'm allegedly really good at art (Story for later), I wear black clothes with skulls, I have black hair and almost black eyes. I mean, come ON. How do I not seem emo. I don't think I'm genuinely that emo, I just have a lot of connections to death. And Death. Anyways. Will just started screaming and cussing each time we went in a pothole or the car jumped higher than usual. I thought it was real cute, because when Will feels strong emotions, his southern drawl starts to show a bit more. Everyone says I sometimes get an Italian accent too (Hmmm....I wonder what we sound like when we fuck...). Back to the point (Gosh, my ADHD is a lot worse than some peoples'...). It was a great ride, I had fun and got some rest at the same time. Not sure about my beau, but he's still in one piece. His messed up hair made him look a bit frazzled.

We arrived.