Solangelo Gender-bend! {Fanfiction/AU}
ONE-SHOTS
All Rights Reserved
Disclaimer: I don't own the fanart used for the cover, or PJO/HoO <--All rights to Rick Riordan and the artist of the fan art.
Nicola di Angelo sits on a bench in Camp Half-Blood, enjoying the pleasant ocean's scent and sounds, and campers enjoying themselves in the hot sun and sand. She doesn't mind being alone on a beautiful day, it's nothing she isn't used to. Her sun is in the infirmary--no, not injured, just curing. It's a shame her love doesn't get to enjoy herself as much as other campers.
"Nicola!" a voice screamed cheerfully, and Nicola felt two arms wrap around her waste.
"Hey, Sunshine." she greeted, relaxing.
Wilma Solace walked around the bench and grabbed Nicola's arm.
"What?" Nicola mumbled, a look of confusion and refusal crossing her face.
"I just got out of the infirmary for, like, the first time in three days! We're going to the beach." Wilma declared.
Nicola sighed and rolled her eyes, "Fine." Her grip in Wilma's hands tightened as they walked side-by-side to the beach.
Wilma gawked at the sun, and the refreshing wind, and the sand under her bare feet.
"Come on, let's lay in the sand." she suggested, and pulled Nicola down just before the mud began.
Nicola, being the shorter girl, rests her head back on Wilma's shoulder, and her own shoulder is on the girl's chest. Wilma rapped her arm around Nicola, her hand fiddling with Nicola's dark hair.
The sand was hot under their clothes and skin, though Nicola wearing dark blue jeans, boots, and a black tee under her jacket, didn't feel it as much as Wilma, who was wearing her Camp Half-Blood tee, and shorts.
"You wear too much black, you know the sun is attracted to black." Wilma smiles and flicks Nicola's hair.
"I know what you mean, but that actually sounded a bit racist." Nicola, un-amused, responded.
"You just think that way." Wilma pouted. Nicola rolled her eyes.
"But what I said was true. I love you, Afterlife Princess. Always will."
The sand wind hit their bodies, and Nicola closed her eyes. The sand whipped around--it was messy, or maybe it was longing. Either way, the ocean sounded beautiful with Wilma's whispers, Nicola thinks anyway. She wanted so badly to say so much to Wilma, but she decided a kiss would sum it all up better than her voice could.
She kissed Wilma, a passionate, happy kiss, in the ocean sand. Beauty at its finest. Love at its truest.
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