Nico was Bianca's little boy, and now he was your little boy. Thought he wasn't so little anymore. And that was the problem. He didn't get to be little.

Here he was, in your lap, cuddled up in your arms as he weeped quietly. He was horizontally sitting on your legs with his arms crossed around your neck.

"I know you're not my real sister, but..." He stopped and sighed, burrowing his head into your shoulder.

He choked. He couldn't get it out without reminding himself about Bianca and what she chose to do with herself. Without Nico.

To think he was thirteen and nuzzled in your arms like a ten year old.