You and Nico had always been close. In fact, you were one of the only people that knew most of his secrets. Which meant you also knew of his treehouse from when you were kids. So, obviously, when you couldn’t find him around camp, you ventured there to search.

The treehouse itself wasn’t shy of being spacious. It was old and rickety but fairly stable, the tree growing through the centre of the room. Old, dusty and half-eaten books (thank the moths and termites) lined the walls, as well as a cheap rug settling the floor. There was two unmade beds that always seemed to be cold from a lack of insolation, and, naturally, the son of Hades was perched on the bottom one.

He’d curled up into a ball against the blanket as he’d heard you enter. You’d initially noticed a new, big sign on the front door that read ‘DO NOT ENTER’, but with everything concerning about Nico, you’d ignored it.

“Do not enter is written in the door way,” he croaked, not looking up to greet his visitor. “Why can’t everyone just go away?”

You began to creep out of the hut, until eventually he recognised that it was you who was lingering.

“Except you..you can stay.” He murmured quietly, rubbing his tired eyes.