The Girl With the Diamond Blade- Nico di Angelo x Reader (Percy Jackson Fanfic)

Chapter 7

Blood of Olympus is amazing.

That is all I will say for now.

_____ = your name

(y/f/a) = your favorite artist

(y/f/b) = your favorite book

You made your way back to the Hermes cabin to collect your stuff. It seemed like you were moving to a new residence at the camp: the Athena cabin. You still couldn’t believe what had happened. Only two days ago, you and Chris were just normal kids—well, as normal as a kid with both dyslexia and ADHD with an ever-hungry best friend could get. And now, Chris was a satyr and you were a demigod.

Speaking of Chris, you needed to go find him. It was only about 1:00 now, and you still had plenty of time until dinner. You entered the Hermes cabin, grabbed your single suitcase, gave a two-fingered wave to Travis (or was it Connor?) who was going through another camper’s stuff, and exited the cabin, heading straight across the “U” shape of cabins towards your new home away from home. Before you could get there, however, you were rammed into by someone. You yelped and tripped, landing on your face as the other person tried to avoid tripping over you.

It didn’t work.

You felt the weight of another person on top of you with an “oof”, then felt them scrambling to get off of you. You also felt your cheeks flush bright red, for no particular reason.

“Oh gods, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” a voice said. You looked up, trying to find the owner and saw a boy standing over top of you, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You got up and rubbed the new scratch on your elbow, taking in the strange sight of this new person.

He was certainly…different from the other campers. His longish hair was dark, almost black, and so were his eyes. They weren’t scary or anything; olive skin complemented them quite well. He had pretty defined features for someone you assumed was around your age. He wore an old aviator jacket, a black skull t-shirt, black jeans and converse, and you noticed a little skull ring on his hand. That was a bit odd; where you were from, guys didn’t normally wear jewelry.

“It’s ok,” you said, hoisting yourself up. You try to dust off your (probably black) (y/f/a) t-shirt. It’s your favorite one, so you thought you’d wear it for one day until you get your Camp Half-Blood t-shirt.

“Cool shirt,” he commented.

“Thanks,” you responded. “Do you listen to (y/f/a)?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty good,” he said. You instantly want to be friends with this guy.

“Good? They’re awesome!” you exclaimed. “I’m ______, by the way,” you say, extending your hand for a handshake. The guy eyed it warily.

“Nico di Angelo,” he said, shaking your hand. You were kind of surprised; you got the vibe that he didn’t like to be touched.

“Alright, I gotta go put my stuff away now. I’ll talk to you later, I guess?” you said hopefully. He seemed really cool, and he didn’t look half bad either.

“See you around camp,” he said. Sure, it wasn’t the best of sendoffs, but for the kind of person you gathered he was, it was better than most.

Now don’t go getting the wrong idea: you were actually really good at guessing what kind of person someone was just by a short conversation. Body language, changes in tone, hidden meanings; you were a pro at those. Being a human lie detector had gotten you out of many situations.