Oh, boy, where do I start?

You.

Currently, it was noon on a Wednesday and being the uncoordinated dummy you are, you wound up in the infirmary much to Will Solace's dismay.

You were an Apollo kid, through and through. You lit up every room you walked into (literally and figuratively), and life just seemed lighter around you. As light as the demigod lifestyle could potentially be.

Maybe it was from the sunlight or your pearly smile, or maybe from your sweet personality. Either way, you were easy to love. Easy to cherish. Easy to worship.

And you'd caught the eyes of a certain son of Hades.

In one of camp Half-Blood's infirmary's wards, a leather chair was parallel to your bed. Their the son of Hades sat, watching you rest after a particularly rough fight. You were knocked out fully, whether it was from the morphine or the concussion.

Nico, however, was perfectly content with watching you until you woke up. Not in a creepy way or anything- he just wanted to check up on you. Sure you'd never even held a conversation with the Italian before, but he still cared! Of course Nico cared about the son of Apollo... Though he wasn't completely sure as to why.

Why did he get so nervous even looking in your direction? Why did a blush creep onto his olive complexion whenever you neared? It felt like a hundred skeleton butterflies erupted in his stomach whenever he heard you laughs and giggles. And gods, whenever you played guitar at the camp's campfires he could've sworn you were moulded by the gods themselves.

Which you technically were, and lived a life to prove it.