Wings

33: If The Sky Falls From Heaven, I Know I Had The Best Time Fallin' Into Love

WPOV

Track: Till Forever Falls Apart, Ashe

Nico is taking me somewhere, and to be so totally honest, I do not care in the least where exactly it is that we're going. The important part is that he's taking me there. We're holding hands, which is making me blush a little, and he leads me through the halls with the confidence of a man who just found out he is capable of committing treason.

We wind through the castle, and Nico seems to know where he's going, so I let him do all the navigating while I simply appreciate how good he looks. I hated that Hades hurt him, but I'm relieved that his wings are back—he looks so much less shaken now that he has them back. He has an easier time walking and balancing, and he no longer looks to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Instead, he just looks hot. He really does have a nice jawline. I want to leave kisses all the way down it. Is the treaty still invalid since we killed the king? How long do we have?

I don't ask. I don't think I really want to know—my stomach twists painfully at just the thought of losing him again.

Nico finally reaches a door, and he pulls me inside. It looks like some sort of office—maybe it's the kings? Or some sort of advisor's? My curiosity is cut short because then Nico is turning toward me, and he grabs my chin and leans in, a fire in his eyes.

He leans toward me, but stops a breath away—letting me be the one to close the distance.

He's warm from the excitement of battle. His lips are soft. We hold onto each other like this is the end of the world. For him, maybe it is. Our hearts beat as one—a ticking countdown of how much time we have, the end of a story told in the drumming. I never want to let him go. If someone takes him from me, I'll chase them down to the end of the earth or even farther to get him back. I'll kill God. I would sin just as easily as I would repent for him, and if it takes one over the other to get him back then I will do it.

And then Nico's hand snakes up my back, and my brain numbs, and I can't think of the future at all anymore.

He kisses me back, back, back, and I let him. He's pushing my whole body back, too, so I happily let him do that, too, until my back hits the wall and—

Fuck. Fear sparks in my gut, and I can't breathe—my lungs freeze up, and all I can think about is—

"Repent," the priest spits as he gets me against the wall—

—and his rosary is in his hand but then he's using it to choke me—

—I gasp—struggle—scratch at him—fuck—

—can't breathe—the rosary—shit!—

My whole body is rigid, and Nico immediately flies off me like I've burned him. His hand hovers a few inches away from my face, wanting to hold me but afraid touching me will make it worse.

I can't breathe. The priest is in my head, and my lungs seize—I swear there's a rosary around my throat, fuck, I can't breathe—

"Will?" Nico asks, his voice tinged with fear. "Will, are you hurt? Did I hurt you?"

I try to open my mouth, but no air leaves my mouth, I can't talk. Fuck. I can't get any air—

"Can I hold your hand? Would that help? Nod if I can hold your hand," Nico says, his tone the kind of careful calm that a parent uses on a child when they are trying not to let on that they are very, very afraid.

I move my head up and down, so Nico gently takes my hand, and he rubs circles into my palm. Circles, circles, circles, and he keeps murmuring to me: "You're safe here. If I hurt you, I'm so sorry. I won't do it again. You're safe with me—whatever I did, it will never happen again."