I looked at the clock, ticking away. It had been about five hours since Will had left. I still couldn't believe he would do such a thing for me. Make some pasta—I'll be honest, it wasn't the best, but it was the thought that counted. Somehow, it didn't make me want to throw up as much as the other foods, when I was just his patient. I had been rude and mean to him, yet he was still a good enough person to put up with me. It was annoying how persistent he was at being kind. And irritating. Most people would've given up by now, letting me get on with my life and never bothering me again.
But Will… he was so, so different. Sometimes I just wanted him to leave, for him to give up. After all, I was going to leave camp afterwards anyway. As soon as he let me go tomorrow, I was shadow traveling out of the camp. But then, other times, when he grinned, or ran his hands through his hair, or touched me, this weird fluttery feeling happened in my stomach. I ignored it, after all, I had just gotten over Percy. I didn't need to get another obsessive crush just to find out they were definitely straight, and had a girlfriend who had been so kind to me I couldn't even blame her. And Will was by far the straightest boy I had seen, and even if he wasn't, he was still too good for me. He was a healer; he helped people. I just caused suffering and death upon people who came near me.
The clock ticked again: 06:39 pm. I was getting bored, just fiddling with the hem of my pillow. The sky was starting to turn pink, the kind of sky when you know the sunset is going to be one of the best ones yet. I scooted closer to the window to see it better. I opened it, and a cold wave of evening breeze wafted into the room. I breathed it in. The fresh smell of camp was not always as comforting and nostalgic to me as it was to others.
I knocked on the big house door, the cold breeze of camp entered as I did the same. Percy and Chiron stood in the middle of the parlour. They were staring at me, with almost something like regret. Percy towered over me, his sea green eyes casted warmth, for some reason, I had felt safe around him ever since he had saved me and Bianca from the monster back at the academy. He was wearing a Christmas sweater, a scarf and a beanie. He looked over at Chiron. I was confused. Maybe they were annoyed at me letting in the cold breeze when I entered, maybe they were upset that I was traipsing snow through the parlour after having a snow fight with Connor Stoll. I was still smiling widely. Bianca was back today, well, Percy was back, which meant she was as well. I was expecting her to be with Percy and Chiron. But she wasn't. she was probably back at the Artemis cabin with her new hunter friends. But no, that didn't make any sense, she wouldn't go straight to them without saying hello to me. Would she? I looked around anxiously.
"Hey! Where's… where's my sister?" Dead silence. Percy looked over at Chiron again. Percy seemed confused for some reason. His eyes went to the floor again. My hands were still shaking from the cold. I looked around again, hoping they were just thinking I was stupidly oblivious and she was actually right in front of me. She wasn't.
"Hey, Nico, we need to talk." He looked guiltily to the floor again, adjusting his beanie. Maybe Artemis thought she was so amazing she could be on Olympus with her, maybe she had an extra side quest to go on, yes, that was it! She had an extra little quest to go on.
He lead me back outside to the dining pavilion, the last time we had talked before he left for the quest.
"Your sister…" Percy started, he hesitated for a second. "she-there was no chance of-we tried-we-" His eyes were watering for some reason. He was stuttering, his hands shaking.
"She's not here because-"
"She's gone on a side quest right!" I said, rubbing my hands together, grinning with my last inch of hope it was true.
"Nico, Nico. She's not here because, it was needed for the quest, it- I tried to stop her, she didn't want to. She's dead, Nico." My eyes started to blur. My hands shaking. I could barely hear him anymore, it must be a joke, right? He promised he would keep her safe, Percy wouldn't break my promise, he was a hero, hero's didn't do that. He reached out and grabbed my hand, placing something into it. It was a Mythomagic statue of Hades.
"She wanted you to have this." He said slowly, placing it into my hand.
We stood there silently, the cold marble pillars felt like a cell, like a prison, I couldn't move, I was frozen, not because of the temperature.
"You promised you would protect her," I said coldly. His eyes widened as if I had stabbed him. Good.
"Nico," He said. Pausing again "I tried. But Bianca gave herself up to save the rest of us. I told her not to. But she-"
"Your promised!" I screamed. Silence. My body was shaking with something. Anger. Brokenness' . Something. I closed my fist around the statue. "I shouldn't have trusted you." My voice cracked, tears streaming down my face. "You lied to me. My nightmares were right!" I screamed into his face. I wanted to hurt him, to crush him, to-
"Wait. What nightmares?"
I chucked the statue to the ground. It clattered across the icy marble.
"I hate you!" I screamed.
"She might be alive," He said desperately. "I don't know for sure-"
"She's dead." I closed my eyes. I had been sensing something was wrong after the first week of them being on the quest. It was my first time being without Bianca, so I guessed that was all it was. My body trembled with rage.
"I should've known it earlier. She's in the Fields of Asphodel, standing before the judges right now, being evaluated. I can feel it." My voice was hoarse.
"What do you mean you can feel it?" Percy asked. I was shaking, I heard rattling, clattering from behind Percy. He turned around to face it. White, bony creatures emerged from the ground. I gasped. Percy drew his sword. Skeletons. They grinned at me. I didn't know why, but i felt they were only there for Percy, I didn't feel threatened by them.
"You're trying to kill me!" I screamed. Surely it was Percy's fault. "You brought these…these things?"
"No, I mean, yes, they followed me, but no! Nico, run. They can't be destroyed."
"I don't trust you!"
The first skeleton charged. Percy knocked it aside with his blade, but the other three kept coming. He sliced one in half, but it immediately stitched itself back together.
"Run, Nico!" He yelled. "Get help!"
"No!" I pressed my hands to my ears, shielding myself from the noises.
"No!" I shouted louder. "GO AWAY!" The ground rumbled beneath us. The skeletons froze. Percy rolled out of the way just as a crack opened at the feet of the four skeletons. The ground ripped apart like a snapping mouth. Flames erupted from the fissure, and the earth swallowed the skeletons in one loud CRUNCH!
Silence.
Awestruck, Percy looked at me. "Nico, how did you-"
"Go away!" I yelled "I hate you! I wish you were dead!" I ran down the steps of the pavilion, hugging my green beanie. It had been Bianca's. It was Bianca's. I ran away, fast, I heard Percy slip behind me, I didn't turn around. I was never, ever, ever trusting anybody again, and I was never, coming back to this camp again.
A warm voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Hey, Neeks," Will said. I turned around, startled, a bird tweeting somewhere outside in the branches. "Are you up to get out of this room for a while?"
I raised an eyebrow but nodded. I wanted more than anything, but I didn't trust that wanting it meant I could relax, so I nodded suspiciously. I didn't know what he was planning.
"The sky sure is beautiful tonight," he said, walking closer, the fading sunlight catching the golden tones in his hair and making his blue eyes almost glow. He looked… luminous, like he belonged in this kind of light, like the sun itself followed him. His uniform clung perfectly, showing his lean frame, but it wasn't just that—there was a warmth to him I could feel even before he spoke.
"Yeah, it is," I murmured, my voice small.
"Well," he said, shifting slightly, "since the sun's setting, I was wondering if you'd want to go watch it with me, on the front porch of the infirmary? No one goes near the infirmary at night, so if you're worried about people coming near you, no one will. Austin and Kayla have gone back to the Apollo cabin for the night, sooo?"
He grinned like he already knew my answer. I hesitated, but the pull of the sunset, and of Will himself, was too much. "Fine," I said.
He grinned wider, clapping his hands together. He led me to the door, opening it for me and following behind. He walked with a casual, easy confidence, but I noticed the careful attentiveness in the way he navigated the narrow hallway, avoiding obstacles and glancing back to make sure I was keeping up. His steps were steady, purposeful, and somehow comforting. The white walls of the infirmary felt less trapping as we moved; the anxiety in my chest started to loosen.
Eventually, we reached the doors to the infirmary and stepped outside. The air was cool, not as warm as it had been during the day, but not cold. The fading sunlight painted everything in amber and rose tones, and Will leaned casually on the railing, the light catching the planes of his face just right. I could see the gentle curve of his jaw, the way his eyes glinted even as they drooped slightly with exhaustion, and the slight rise of a dimple when he smiled.
Will sat down on the porch steps, leaning back on his hands. I stayed standing. He looked up at me, raising an eyebrow.
"You sittin' down, Di Angelo?" His Texan accent was back, slow and teasing, but there was a hint of fatigue in it. His eyes were heavy, yet they still held that warmth that made it impossible for me to look away. He was obviously tired, but still put others first, still thought of me, I didn't know what I had done to deserve such a kind human being. I nodded and slid down next to him, my hands brushing the wood of the porch. His hair was tousled by the wind, scattering golden strands over his forehead, and his grin softened into something gentle, almost tender.
I leaned back on my hands as well, letting the breeze wash over me. Silence stretched comfortably for a moment, broken only by the faint calls of campers from the distance and the rustling leaves.
I heard a loud clang of swords over in the training area. I looked over. You could see the training arena from the infirmary, just enough to see the outline of people but covered enough by trees that they couldn't see you. Will turned as well, peeking through the trees.
It was two campers. both sword fighting, terribly, but at least they were training. Will laughed.
"They're…awful." I said. Will chuckled softly.
"They are." He paused, I could tell he was waiting for me to turn my head to look at him. So I did. "But, at least they're tryin, right?" He said.
"I guess." I said, rolling my eyes.
"Well, Mr 'I never even trained because I was so good from the start' surely you were that bad at some point?" I laughed, shaking my head.
"Never, I've always been amazing." He rolled his eyes.
"Com'on death boy, you must've had someone train you!"
My mind instantly flashed to the ghost, king Minos. He was who had trained me. Groomed me into this perfect warrior boy, not for my own good though, it was his. My smile lowered, I realised I had been smiling and laughing. Somehow he had made me smile. He seemed to notice my change in expression.
"Look," He pointed towards the sky. The suns setting now!" I looked up. It was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. The sky was a riot of colour, streaks of orange, pink, and gold bleeding into the fading blue. I couldn't remember ever seeing anything like it, it made the clouds look like molten sugar, soft and burning at the same time. The sun lingered lazily on the horizon, casting long shadows across the infirmary porch. Its light made everything look sharper, more alive. Even the cracks in the wooden steps seemed to glimmer.
I couldn't stop staring. "It's… it's really pretty," I said finally, my voice almost a whisper.
Will leaned back on his hands, the sunlight catching the edges of his hair and making it glow like spun gold. His skin looked warmer somehow in the evening light, freckles catching little sparks of colour, and his eyes seemed brighter, softer. For a moment, he just watched the sky with me. Then he said quietly, "Sunsets like this… they're better with the right person to watch them."
I blinked at him, frowning slightly. there was this… shift in his expression, something softer around his eyes, that made my stomach twitch. I didn't get it. "Uh… yeah. I guess." I mumbled, looking back at the streaks of orange and pink as if examining the clouds would explain what he meant.
Will smiled faintly, tilting his head just a little. He didn't say anything else, and I thought maybe I'd misheard him. I shrugged, nodding. "It's nice. Real nice."
He let the quiet stretch out, his gaze going back to the sunset. I watched the light hit his face, highlighting the gentle curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast tiny shadows on his cheek. He looked… at peace. I shook my head slightly, confused by the flutter in my chest but ignoring it. The sky was still the main event here.
I heard the faint buzzing of something in the grass, soft and rhythmic, almost blending into the hum of the summer evening. Then, from the tangle of long green blades, a small, warm, yellow glow emerged—hovering, swaying lazily in the air.
Fireflies.
I used to love fireflies when I was younger. Me and Bianca would sneak out into the woods on our own in Italy past our bedtime just to watch them in the summer. Mama would always scold us when she found out, but she'd still end up sitting with us for a while, watching them blink like tiny lanterns in the dark. I hadn't seen them since then.
Something about their glow gave me a strange sense of safety. But I knew they wouldn't be here forever. Soon, they'd vanish, slipping away to hibernate for the winter, leaving the night a little darker.
"Fireflies always mark the end of the summer," Will said behind me, his voice low, almost thoughtful.
I turned around and raised an eyebrow. "That's… oddly poetic for you."
"They always show up at camp during the end of August," he said, nodding toward three fireflies drifting lazily above the grass, their lights pulsing in unison. "Since camp's got the magic weather control, they're always drawn here. Means they don't have to hibernate straight away."
He smiled softly, watching them like they were old friends.
To him, and to these fireflies, Camp Half-Blood was a safe place. Will probably had hundreds of memories like this: warm summer evenings, laughter spilling from the dining pavilion, sunsets painting the hills gold. I didn't. For me, safety had always been fleeting. Temporary. I wished I could just… float away like the fireflies.
We stayed there for a while, watching the little sparks drift between blades of grass, over the training field, into the shadows of the trees. Will started pointing them out like a tour guide, giving them ridiculous names.
"That one's Steve. He's clearly the leader."
"That one's blinking too fast—definitely anxious," I said without thinking.
Will chuckled, and it was warm enough to make the night feel a little less cold.
Despite myself, I almost smiled.
When the sky deepened into navy, Will tipped his head back to look up. "You can see Orion tonight," he said, pointing toward the edge of the forest where a scattering of stars cut through the haze. "Well… half of him."
I followed his finger, my eyes landing on the bright points. "Half a hunter," I muttered. "Seems fitting."
He hummed, like he was thinking about saying something else, but didn't.
It was starting to get darker now. The sun had dipped below the trees, the last threads of orange fading into deep blue. Yet we were still sitting outside, letting the air grow cooler around us. A shiver ran down my spine, and Will noticed immediately.
"I guess we should head inside, huh?" he said, standing up and brushing the dust off his cargo shorts.
I nodded reluctantly. "Yeah… guess so."
He reached out his hand without hesitation, waiting for me to take it.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before sliding my hand into his. His palm was incredibly warm. No wonder he wasn't shivering. But it wasn't the kind of heat that scorched, like boiling water or sunburned metal. No—his warmth was steady, calm. Safe. Like something you didn't realize you'd been missing until you had it again.
I grunted quietly as I pushed myself to my feet, trying not to show how much my legs still ached. He didn't comment. We just started walking, side by side, through the quiet infirmary hallways. The scent of antiseptic and clean linen replaced the night air as we reached my room. The white, sterile space felt colder than it had earlier.
I climbed into bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin. Will stayed by the light switch for a moment, his eyes still soft and gentle in the dim glow.
"Thanks for comin' with me," he said quietly, almost like he was worried about breaking the calm that had settled between us.
"Thanks for inviting me," I muttered, my voice coming out rougher than I intended.
He gave a little smile. "Goodnight, Neeks." His voice was softer now, almost a whisper. Then he flicked off the light and pulled the door halfway closed.
"Goodnight, sunshine," I whispered into the darkness. He probably couldn't hear me. Honestly, I hoped he hadn't.
It took a while for me to drift off to sleep. Not that I even wanted to sleep. Whenever I slept, nightmares plagued my mind. I had gone weeks without sleeping before. When I first ran away, I didn't sleep for 5 weeks. I was plagued by nightmares of my sister. Of that night Percy came back from his quest. Ever since then, even on the nights I had no nightmares, I told myself I didn't want to go to sleep, like my brain had it forged into that if I fell asleep, I wouldn't wake up happy. And I was worried that I would fall into the same routine when I left the next day. Without the comfy infirmary bed, and the safety of knowing Will was somewhere in the infirmary if I needed him, I wondered if I would even be able to fall asleep.
The breeze was cool outside of mine and Bianca's bedroom window, a soft current that slipped through the cracked glass and carried the scent of grass and distant woodsmoke. The thin white curtains billowed in slow, lazy waves, letting in patches of moonlight that stretched across the wooden floor like spilled milk.
It was one of those warm summer nights where, if you didn't open the windows, the air inside turned heavy and stifling, like trying to sleep in a sauna. Even with the window open, the heat clung stubbornly to the room, making the shadows feel thicker somehow.
Our bedroom wasn't big—two narrow beds on opposite sides, both dressed with mismatched quilts Mama had sewn herself. The wallpaper was faded with age, pale cream with little blue flowers climbing in looping patterns. Against the wall between our beds stood a small wooden dresser with chipped paint, stacked with books and little trinkets Bianca had collected over the years: smooth river stones, dried flowers pressed between glass, an old brass key that had never opened anything. My side of the room was… less decorated. A small nightstand with a candleholder, my favourite worn book lying facedown on it.
Bianca sat cross-legged on her bed, back propped against the wall, her thin quilt bunched around her waist. The lamplight caught in her hair—soft brown, falling like water over her shoulders—and made it look almost gold at the edges. She was reading Pinocchio again, flipping through it with the kind of quiet focus that meant she'd tuned the world out entirely.
Mama had put us to bed an hour ago, kissed our foreheads, blew out the candles, and told us firmly, no more sneaking out at night. She'd said if she caught us outside watching the fireflies again, we'd be in trouble. But Bianca's stubbornness was stronger than any rule. She'd already decided.
We just had to wait for Mama to fall asleep.
I didn't want to disobey her. I really didn't. But the fireflies… seeing them was like stepping into another world, like magic you could touch.
"Bia, how much longer?" I whispered, crawling across the foot of her bed.
It was the seventh time I'd asked in ten minutes. I knew I was pushing it, but the stillness of the room was eating me alive.
"Patience, Neeks. Maybe like… five more minutes," she murmured without looking up, tilting her head toward the little wooden clock on the wall.
09:34, it read.
I flopped onto my stomach dramatically. "But it's taking so loooong!" I whispered, dragging the word out like it might convince time to speed up.
Without thinking, I reached forward and tugged gently at a strand of her hair.
"Ow! Stop it!" she hissed, snapping her head toward me, eyes narrowed.
"You didn't even feel that," I whispered back, grinning.
"I did too!" she whispered, swatting at me with her book. "If you're this annoying now, you're going to ruin the firefly trip before we even get outside."
I smirked but leaned back, propping myself on my elbows. The cool air from the window brushed against my arms, and I glanced toward it again. Outside, the moonlight spilled over the rooftops, and the sound of cicadas hummed like a heartbeat under the night. Somewhere out there, the fireflies were waiting.
Bianca noticed where I was looking and shut her book halfway, tucking her legs under the quilt. "You're like a dog scratching at the door," she teased. "Mama's going to hear you pacing before we even get out there."
"I'm not pacing," I muttered, even though I'd definitely been pacing earlier.
She grinned. "You've been counting the seconds in your head, haven't you?"
"…Maybe."
She rolled her eyes but smiled, the kind of smile she only ever gave me when Mama wasn't looking, conspiratorial, like we were co-owners of a great secret. "Alright, Neeks. Just a few more minutes."
I groaned again, staring up at the ceiling where shadows danced with the curtain's slow sway. Five more minutes. I could survive that. Probably.
I nuzzled into her shoulder without thinking, the way you do when you're small and tired and your sister's right there to lean on.
"Neeks," she giggled softly, her voice low so Mama wouldn't hear. "You're behaving like a cat."
But she still looped an arm around me, pulling me in. My cheek pressed into the thin fabric of her nightshirt, warm from her skin. I breathed in her scent, Mama had used her special soap when we took our bath earlier, the one she brought out when she was in a really good mood. It smelled faintly of lavender and something sweet I couldn't name. Comfort in a bottle.
"Are you sniffing me?" Bianca asked suspiciously, tilting her head toward me like she was trying to catch me in the act.
"You smell nice," I whispered, my voice half-lost in her shoulder.
She rolled her eyes, but I felt her hand slip into my hair, combing through it with slow fingers. "You're so weird."
"Better than being boring," I mumbled, and she made a little snort of laughter before glancing at the clock again.
Her smile faded into something more focused. "Okay, I'm going to go check if she's asleep, Neeks. Stay here."
Before she could even stand, I wrapped both arms around her waist, clinging like a koala.
"Pleaseeee let me come!" I said, my voice dragging into a yawn halfway through.
"No, you're too loud," she whispered back, trying to pry me off. "You stomp like an elephant. And you breathe like one too."
"Do not," I said indignantly, tightening my grip.
"Do too."
"Hmph." I buried my face against her side in protest.
"Nico. Let. Go," she hissed, but there was no real anger in it—just that big-sister exasperation she'd perfected over the years.
I grunted stubbornly. "No."
"Nico, please."
I stared up at her with my best wounded-puppy eyes, the ones that sometimes got me out of trouble. "What if you get eaten by wolves on the way?"
" I'm not going to die Neeks! There are no wolves in the hallway," she deadpanned.
"You don't know that."
She sighed so dramatically it was almost a performance. "Fine. If I get eaten, I'll haunt you forever."
"Good," I muttered, finally loosening my arms. "Then I wouldn't be lonely."
Her face softened for just a second, and she gave my hair one last ruffle before she stood. She went over to the dressing screen, pulling her dressing gown over her pajamas.
Before leaving the room, she leaned back toward me and whispered, "Stay. Put." She pointed a finger at me like she was casting a spell.
I nodded solemnly. "Yes, ma'am."
I got off the bed and padded over to my side of the room, where the window was. The wooden floor was cool under my bare feet. Outside, the fields were stretched out in front of me, glowing faintly under the pale light of a couple lampposts. Other than that, it was all just shadows and shapes, the kind of darkness that made you squint.
Me and Bianca would definitely need to take the lantern tonight.
Somewhere out there, an owl called, low and slow. I pressed my forehead against the glass for a second, listening.
I turned and wandered over to my chest of toys. It was painted dark green, with little gold swirls Mama had done herself years ago. Most of the toys inside were wooden, cars, animals, soldiers, but right at the top were my Mythomagic figurines.
I pulled them out carefully, setting them in a neat row on the rug. Hades wasn't there yet, he was the only god figurine I didn't have. I was already planning to ask for him for my birthday in six months.
"Okay," I whispered to myself, starting to line them up in order of power. I'd memorized their stats a long time ago, so I didn't even need to check the cards. Still, I double-checked anyway. I squatted down, tilted my head, and nodded in satisfaction. Perfect.
Once they were in place, I bounced back onto my bed. The duvet cover was in the wash, but that was fine. It was way too hot for it anyway. I curled up against the bare sheets, breathing in the faint, familiar scent of home.
The door squeaked open.
"She's asleep," Bianca whispered, her voice like a secret. "Grab your dressing gown and the lantern."
I scrambled up, pulling my dressing gown over my pajamas, the sleeves hanging a bit long over my hands. I passed her the lantern, the metal cool against my fingers.
"You okay?" she asked, tilting her head at me.
I nodded so fast I nearly bumped my chin on my chest. "Yeah. Let's go."
She smiled just a little and reached out her hand. I grabbed it instantly, my small fingers wrapping around hers. She always walked a little fast, so I had to half-skip to keep up.
Our house was big—so big that sometimes I thought you could get lost in it if you didn't know the way. We tiptoed past Mama's door, holding our breath like she might be able to hear it through the wood. The hallway smelled faintly of candle wax and the flowers Mama always kept in vases.
"Don't step there," Bianca whispered, pointing to one of the long floorboards. "It squeaks."
I made a face. "What if I want it to squeak?"
"Then we'd get caught, and Mama would make you scrub the floors all week," she said.
"…Fine," I muttered, stepping over it.
We hurried down the rest of the hallway, careful on the boards we knew made noise, and pushed open the back door. The air outside was cooler than I expected, brushing against my cheeks and making me shiver a little.
The garden was huge, Mama said it went on for "acres," which I thought sounded like a million miles. Beyond that was the forest, and somewhere in that forest was our treehouse.
Bianca adjusted her dressing gown with one hand and kept the other clasped tightly around mine. The lantern's light swung gently between us, making the grass glow gold in patches.
As soon as we were far enough from the house, I started chattering.
"Do you think there'll be more fireflies than last time?" I asked.
"Probably," she said. "It's warmer tonight. They like warm nights."
"Maybe they'll all be in the treehouse," I said.
She snorted. "They're not going to move into our treehouse, Neeks."
"Why not? If I was a firefly, I'd live there."
"You'd bump your head on the ceiling every time you lit up."
I frowned at her, pretending to think hard. "Then I'd just light up sideways."
She laughed quietly, the sound bouncing in the still night air. "You're ridiculous."
We walked down the dirt path, our slippers picking up bits of dust and grass. The further we got from the house, the quieter it became, except for the faint crunch of our steps and the occasional rustle in the grass.
"Do you think Mama was ever our age?" I asked suddenly.
Bianca gave me a strange look. "Of course she was. Everyone is."
"But I can't imagine her being little," I said. "I bet she was born old."
"She probably said the same thing about her mama," Bianca replied.
I nodded thoughtfully. "Bia, do you think when we're old, we'll still watch fireflies together?"
Her hand squeezed mine gently. "I hope so, Neeks."
By the time the trees of the forest started to rise up in front of us, the lantern's light felt like the only thing keeping the dark at bay. The path here was narrower, lined with bushes that seemed taller at night. The air smelled like earth and leaves, and somewhere deep in the forest, another owl called.
Bianca stopped for a second and glanced at me. "Ready?"
I grinned. "Ready."
I woke up with my cheek pressed into something damp and cold. At first, my sleepy brain thought maybe I'd drooled, but when I pushed myself up and my hair stuck to my skin, I felt the truth. My pillow was soaked through.
I reached up, swiping clumsily at my face, and my fingers came away wet. My eyes stung. My lashes were heavy. I blinked in the dark and realised—
Tears.
They'd been running down my face even while I was sleeping.
I stared at the shadows pooling in the corners of the room, trying to slow my breathing. The red digits of the clock by my bed blinked back at me: 00:13.
Of course. Thirteen minutes past midnight. Just my luck.
The blankets were suddenly too heavy. I pushed them off, the fabric whispering against my skin, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My bare feet met the cool floor, grounding me, though not enough to shake the leftover ache in my chest.
I didn't even know why I was standing. It wasn't like I had anywhere to go.
The infirmary room was silent, and it was the kind of darkness that felt thick, like it was pressing in at the edges. The moonlight spilled weakly through the window, silvering the edges of the furniture. Everything else was just shapes I could barely make out.
I sniffled and padded over to the window, pulling the curtain back with a shaky hand. The glass was cold under my palm. Outside, the moon hung low over the camp, pale and perfect, watching everything. I tried to watch it back.
I wanted just one night. Just one night without waking up like this. Without seeing them. Without feeling like I was still there. Without dreams that made my chest hurt and my hands shake even after they were over.
I wanted them to leave me alone.