Demon Eyes [Nico Di Angelo]

Chapter 16

*Nico's POV*

My vision is blurry as I run down the hallway, the sound of Kayla moaning Aaron's name filling my mind. Rage courses through me, and my already failing vision tunnels and becomes tinged with red. Aaron, that fucking bastard. All the pain that he caused Kayla...wait, why should I care about Kayla? Kayla doesn't care about me, or anyone else for that matter. Everyone is just a pawn in her game, a piece to her puzzle, a slave in her kingdom. Then she pretends to be confused and hurt when I refuse to follow her like a lovesick puppy. I refuse to be used by her. By anyone. It's the rule I've had ever since King Minos' ghost used me in the Labyrinth. The memory consumes me with rage, and I slam my door shut, satisfied with the loud bang.

Making my way to the bathroom, my brain flashes to the last time I was this angry, this heartbroken. Ash. A sob leaves my mouth, and pain floods through my body.  My hands clutch the counter of the sink, and I stare at myself in the oval mirror, watching the drops of regret trail down my cheeks, an infinite amount of pain released in torrents of tears. I'm so fucking tired of crying. I hate how weak I am. I hate how I love so easily. I hate how I so willingly put other people's needs in front of mine. I hate how forgiving I am. I hate how depressed I am. I hate how tired I am. I hate how I hate myself. I hate everything. I hate how I can't control all of these things that happen to me. Most of all, I hate how I can't control what happens to the people I love.

I stare into the reflection of my own eyes, becoming lost in my own darkness. A mixture of fury and numbness is all that I feel, and I know that I need to feel something else. I need to have another feeling, something other than this. This is when I understand what Kayla felt when she cut herself, this is what Ash thought about battles. It's an escape from yourself.

I yell defiantly, and smash my right fist repeatedly into the mirror, watching the broken, jagged shards break off of the shattered object. Smears of blood dot the surface of the silvery metal, and I realize that my knuckles are oozing the scarlet liquid. Idiot. Scolding myself only makes me even more furious, and I find myself punching the mirror again, enjoying the pain that follows. By the time I'm done, the mirror is reduced to bits, glass strewn across the floor and the sink. I don't feel the pain, but I see all the blood. Glancing at my hand, I see blood dripping down my pale fingers, the contrast of the red and the white is ghostly. Slowly, I begin to notice the pain, and I feel tired and defeated. My victory is short-lived.

*Kayla's POV*

The door to the infirmary squeaks open, and I jump to my feet. My heart pounds, and sweat gathers on my palms. I pray to the gods that it's not Nico, I'm not ready to face him yet. Even after sitting here for all this time, I still don't know what to say to him. Honestly, I don't really know what the hell happened. As always, I messed up, and just when things started to look good for me. Fortunately, the gods have answered my prayers.

Warm, cocoa-brown skin flashes past my vision, and I see startling gold eyes filled with concern gaze into me. Hazel Levesque, the world's most understanding demigod. Surely I can tell her about my disastrous mistake. Guilt floods through me, making my heart race once more. The promise I made to her about never hurting her brother...now one of several promises I've broken. Just an hour ago I promised Nico I would fight for him, for as long as I could. That didn't last long at all. It's almost funny actually.

Hazel crouches down, and I give her a small smile. Force of habit I suppose. The odd thing is, she smiles back at me, and then covers my hands with her tanner, larger ones. Warm, comforting, welcoming hands. Hands that would hold you when you were sad, angry, happy, whatever. Caring hands. Just like my sister's were before she turned into a pale corpse on a hospital bed. Sadness leaks into me, and I slump against the wall, tired of pushing everyone away. Maybe Hazel can help me, the lords know I need all the help I can get.

Before I could open my mouth, Hazel's soft voice slices through the quiet. "I saw Nico. He told me what happened."

Why does she sound so sad? Shouldn't she be mad at me? Why isn't she with Nico right now? Is he ok? All of these questions and more go through my brain, but I decide to ask only the latter.

"How is he?"

Hazel winces. "He ummm...kinda killed a mirror."

"Is he alright?" I sit up, leaning forward with interest.

Hesitating, she opens and closes her mouth, thinking of what to say. That's my que that he isn't doing too well, because it's never easy breaking bad news. I know that from experience, I had to tell my sister's boyfriend Louis that she was dead. Not very pleasant.

"Nico...hmm. He's been through way, way, too much. I mean his past...it's...well, a horror story. But...Eros doesn't treat him nicely. Love, the last time he loved someone...it didn't end well."

It takes a painful moment for this to sink in.

"He's loved someone else?"

Quizzically, she cocks her head, looking at me through squinting eyes.

"You mean...he hasn't told you?"

"Told me what exactly?"

Hazel's eyes widen in alarm, and I can see her struggling to backtrack. Then, seeing me waiting expectantly, she lets out a long, exasperated sigh. Slowly shaking her head, she gives me a simple answer.

"About Ash."

I let the words soak through me, swirl through my brain, trying to decode the name that obviously holds much power. Who is this mysterious girl? Did she love Nico? How did she break his heart? Were they a couple? Had she been Nico's first? I'm surprised by how concerned I am. And I have to admit, I'm extremely envious. If I was this girl, I would hold Nico tight and never let him go. Then again, I had my chance, and it slipped right through my fingers like sand in an hourglass.

Both me and Hazel jump ten feet in the air when we hear a hoarse voice call out from behind us. "Ashley Coolidge."

Dressed in converse, ripped black skinny jeans, a chain for a belt, a black shirt, and his signature leather aviator jacket, stood the Ghost King himself. Twining a white cloth bandage around his right fist, he looked up, a devious smirk on his olive-skinned face.

"She was quite extraordinary." He paused. "Well before I watched her die, that is."

oh shit. this just got real. real plot twist here. lol. anyway I appreciate all of the reads and votes and I'm sorry I didn't update sooner!!!! ily all!!! I hope u liked this chapter and ill start working on the next one soon.