I watched him all of the time.

I watched how most of his smiles came all at once without any warning, how they were always as bright as the sun.

I watched how he brought aura of happiness wherever he went. His personality was absolutely infectious.

I watched how he walked with his shoulders relaxed and his strides quick and precise like he was completely content to let his feet take him wherever they wanted. Sometimes I was jealous of the way he didn't need to worry about walking too far and crossing a very thin line, stumbling and then falling. Falling far and fast down a void that was much too dangerous and much too appealing.

I watched how he cast glances over at me when he thought I wasn't looking, how he looked at me like I was something worthwhile.

I saw the way his hands were always restless, especially when he was meant to be sitting still. His fingers would be tapping rhythms out on his knee one second and then tugging on his hoodie sleeves the next, they'd make their way to the strings of his jacket, yanking and twisting the cords around themselves, and then he'd start pulling on his hair nervously and I just wanted to reach out and still his hands for a moment, kiss his knuckles or let him tangle his fingers into my hair instead.

I wanted to tell him that I loved when he stopped to help people without a second thought. I wanted him to know that I even loved every single one of his flaws, the way he threw himself into everything he did with his whole heart and he got frustrated if you didn't do the same, how he had the tendency to treat even the most serious things like they were a game, how he worried himself sick about things he couldn't help. I even loved the way his temper sometimes flared when something he cared about was being threatened.

I knew all of his nervous habits, all of his facial expressions, all of his tells. His lips twitched whenever he lied, as if he was disgusted with himself for doing it. Sometimes they did the same thing when he thought something was funny, but then it was different; he was trying to keep laughter inside, not truth, and his eyes sparkled then. I knew how his jaw clenched when he was angry and how he chewed on his lip whenever he was thinking about something intently.

I even saw him in my sleep, something I didn't even like admitting to myself.

I watched him always because everything he did demanded my attention. And I thought to myself, How can I create anything beautiful when there is Will in the world?

And that's when I started drawing him again.

-

I was beginning to hate myself more and more with every passing day. I was beginning to hate the fact that I couldn't seem to fight against this. I didn't want to admit that it was mainly because I really didn't want to.

It had been two weeks and three days since he'd last kissed me. Well, since I'd let him. I hadn't even realized that I'd been counting. I felt like I could never win, if I didn't let him kiss me, I regretted it, if I did, I still regretted it.

I considered cutting myself off from him completely, not answering texts or calls, not going over to his house immediately after school, speaking directly to him as little as possible until he eventually got the hint and left me alone. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made and the more scared I got. I walked around feeling like a shadow was looming over me, my palms began to sweat for seemingly no reason at all, I was constantly nervous and I wasn't sure why. I started folding in on myself, wanting more and more to just be left alone. It took me much too long to realize the cause of all of this: the fact that I was slowly making myself believe that I was going to have to push Will away one way or another. The thought made me absolutely sick, I could imagine how hurt he would be, how much seeing him like that would hurt me. How not seeing him at all would hurt me. I was telling myself that it would, at least, be for good reasons

"Nico?" Fingers snapping in front of my face, Will laughing at my startled expression, "You in there?"

I glared at him, my cheeks pinking, "Yeah."

His nose crinkled like he was looking at an adorable kitten, "Good," he said, tapping my nose with his pointer finger and making me blush even more.

I shook my head, looking away from him in an attempt to shove away the thoughts that were clouding my brain. "Have you decided on a movie yet?" I asked, shifting and tucking my legs underneath myself.

Will shook his head, "Why don't we go over to your house? You probably have better ones than I do."

I nodded and pulled myself off of his sofa, "It wouldn't hurt to check, right?"

He grinned as he caught my gaze. His smile made me feel annoyingly happy. "Right."

We made an unspoken decision to race across the street, laughing as my palms collided with my front door a second after his. Will was grinning cockily, opening the door and waltzing inside like he owned the place; I was following after him, trying to act annoyed but being betrayed by the dumb grin that had settled over my features.

Both of our heads snapped towards the kitchen as an excited bark sounded within and Mrs. O'Leary charged out and plowed into me. I stumbled back a couple of paces, laughing and ruffling her ears. "Hey, girl."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Will asked, trying to feign offense.

"Practically," I told him, and then we both looked up at the same time again as a laugh sounded in front of us.

My mom was leaning the doorway to the kitchen, smiling at us both. "Hardly, it's just that Nico, here, has been neglecting the poor dog."

"I have not!" I refuted, gaping at her.

Will was shaking his head disappointedly. "I thought you were better than this, Nico," he told me, running a hand over my dog's back, and then to her, he added, "It's alright, girl, I still love you."

I punched his arm playfully and Marie laughed again, "Well, you definitely haven't been spending as much time with her as you used to."

That was true, I used to spend practically every moment with her and now Will had taken her place. I frowned down at her happy face, "I'm sorry," I mumbled, and she licked my cheek sloppily. I wiped my face off on my shoulder, grinning triumphantly up at Will, who was rolling his eyes before I even started talking, "See, she forgives me!"

"Whatever, Neeks."

We made our way into the living room, Mrs. O'Leary trotting happily behind, and Marie disappeared back into the kitchen.

Will immediately plopped down in front of my entertainment center and began riffling through our movies, laying aside any he deemed interesting. I had thrown myself across one of our armchairs, one of my legs hanging over an armrest and my shoulders resting against the other. Mrs. O'Leary was sprawled out in front of the chair, her head resting on her paws.

"What d'you got?" I asked him, and he scooped up the pile of movies he'd collected, sorting through them and reading off the titles.

"Ferris Bueller's Day Off--"

"That one's hilarious, keep that."

"Miele-- I have no idea what this is, but its cover looks interesting."

"No," I said, "it's way too sad. Plus, the whole thing is in Italian, which is fine for me, but--"

"Yeah, yeah. Inception?"

"Good movie. Maybe."

We continued the process until we'd narrowed it down to three films, at which point, Will dramatically narrated his process of elimination and decided on Inception. He threw himself across the sofa as it started playing and I found myself wishing I could curl up next to him and spend the hours watching in his arms.

I tore my eyes away from him and focused on the screen instead, but after a while, my gaze was pulled back towards him and I didn't try and look away. His shirt was riding up on his stomach slightly, revealing a small strip of skin that I had to fight not to stare at, but studying his face wasn't much better.

He suddenly shifted, pulling his phone out of his pocket. His mouth worked into a smile as he read whatever was on the screen.

"Who're you texting?" I wondered, and Will looked up in surprise and then shrugged.

"One of my friends. I met him at the supermarket."

I laughed, "How do you just become best friends with everyone without trying? I don't get it."

I knew Will had other friends, I'd never even met any of them, but sometimes when I wanted to hang out with him, he was already with them. Which was fine. I mean, it was kind of annoying, but fine. It's not like I didn't have a life other than him.

Will grinned at me, "I just have unearthly charm."

"Yeah, okay," I said, snorting disbelievingly.

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Hey, don't try and deny it." He smirked coyly, "You fell for it too."

I felt my cheeks heating up and I looked at the ceiling in an attempt at hiding it. "Sure, I did."

I saw him stretching luxuriously in my peripheral vision and turned my head lazily to watch him. His shirt rode up even further and his back arched against the couch, his muscles flexing and then relaxing slowly. I pulled gaze away again, shutting my eyes tightly. Stop.

I was saved from myself by my mom poking her head in the archway. "Nico, Mrs. O'Leary is due for a bath and you've been putting it off for two days."

I sighed, knowing it was true, she was really started to stink, but I didn't want to deal with it right then. "Can't I just wait until tomorrow?"

Marie rose her eyebrows at me, tapping her finger against the doorframe, the message was clear: That's exactly what you said the last two times.

I groaned and rolled off the chair, stepping over Mrs. O'Leary. "Uh," I said to Will, "you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

He just grinned at me and pulled himself off the couch, "No, it's cool. It sounds kind of fun, actually."

I laughed, "You've obviously never tried to give a massive Newfoundland a bath before."

"Then, it's time I do."

"Whatever, Solace."

Will promptly ignored me and studied Mrs. O'Leary instead, "So. . . Where are we doing this? Do you actually have a bathtub big enough for her?"

-

"This thing is huge! You could fit two of her in here!" he exclaimed, gesturing to the large tub in my parent's bathroom.

I shrugged, "More like one and a half."

Will regarded me dryly, "Like that makes a huge difference."

"It does, actually. . . but right now we should probably worry about actually bathing her."

"Good point."

We coaxed her into the tub and then Will turned on the water.

"Make sure it's not too hot. Just warm."

He nodded and adjusted the nob accordingly while I held back Mrs. O'Leary, who was already overly thrilled about the prospect of playing in water. We then set to work filling up huge Maverick cups and dumping them over her while simultaneously trying to keep her from jumping out of the tub in excitement.

Will pulled his hand away from her, wrinkling his nose at the obscene amount of dog hair on his hand, and I laughed. "Yeah, that tends to happen when she gets wet.

"You should be grateful that I'm putting myself through this for you," he told her, making me laugh again.

I yelped and then sighed in exasperation as she lunged towards me, spilling water over the side of the tub and soaking my jeans. "Okay, this isn't working." I stood up and stepped into the bathtub quickly while Will laughed at me, "I'll hand you stuff, you scrub, and I'll hold her."

"'Kay."

I grabbed a bottle of dog shampoo and passed it to him, "Make sure to cover her eyes when you rinse it out."

This worked for a couple of minutes until Mrs. O'Leary overpowered me and launched herself out of the tub, barking and nearly knocking over Will, who had to dive to avoid her. Torrents of water and soap cascaded onto the floor, but that was nothing compared to what I knew she was about to do.

"WAIT!" I yelled, lunging forward, but my dog was already shaking off her coat, sending water that carried about a pound of dog hair in it in every direction, splattering the walls and ceiling.

Will and I groaned in unison and she wagged her tail proudly, prancing in a circle before ducking playfully like she was getting ready to pounce. I climbed out of the tub and then wrestled Mrs. O'Leary back in with the help of Will.

Now we were both in the tub, with Will at the back end, sitting down and trying to scrub shampoo into Mrs. O'Leary's neck fur despite the fact that she was dancing expertly out of his grip every few seconds, and me standing up behind her, attempting to slather the shampoo into her back fur with very little success.

I sighed, giving up, and went turn the water back on so that I could start rinsing off her back. As I turned back around, my face was met with her wildly swinging tail, which made a loud, wet smacking noise across my cheek.

I jumped back, letting out a sound that was half surprised and half pained, causing Will to throw his head back and laugh, at which point, my dog lunged at him, knocking him backwards and attacking his face with huge, slurping kisses. I used this distraction to climb on top of her, my feet planted on the floor to either side of her (a feat I would not have been able to accomplish if Mrs. O'Leary wasn't practically laying down on top of Will, who was quite distressed), and started rubbing the soap into the back of her neck. Apparently, this wasn't a very good idea, because the Newfoundland immediately panicked and stood halfway up, carrying my entire weight for a moment, before she backed up quickly with her haunches in the air. This effectively propelled me forward and I fell over her head and landed with an, 'Oof,' on top of Will.

I quickly sat up, my hands to either side of his head. I was very aware that I was supposed to be scrambling off of him and apologizing, but I was even more aware that he was grinning goofily up at me and he looked so absolutely ridiculous with his hair plastered to his face, laying in several inches of bubbly water, and it was weirdly endearing and I was straddling him in a bathtub. My parent's bathtub, of all places. With my dog, who was already throwing herself over the edge and flooding the entire place.

My lips started quirking into a smile and Will was looking more and more confused by the second, which just made the entire thing even more hilarious. Pretty soon I was just sitting on top of him, laughing my guts out at the ceiling and he was beneath me, tugging on my shirt and asking me what in the world was so funny in the most exasperated voice I'd ever heard, making me laugh even harder.

"Will," I wheezed, looking back down at him and flattening my hands against his chest to brace myself, "we're in a bathtub."

He cracked an amused smile at me, "Yeah. . . I kinda got that. . ."

"And you look so dumb."

Now he was laughing a little too, "Like you're one to talk, you have bubbles in your hair and you're cackling manically."

I made a very undignified snorting noise, "I know, and we're both soaking wet."

Will was staring at me and I wasn't quite sure of any of the emotions behind it.

"What?" I asked, still chuckling under my breath.

He just shook his head, laughing a bit, "You're an idiot."

"Shut up, Will."

He let out an amused huff, sitting up on one elbow to reach out and push his fingers through my hair, laughing loudly at how it stuck straight up due all of the hair product and water.

I shoved him playfully, "You wanna play that game?"

"Maybe I do."

Pretty soon we were laughing hysterically, running our hands through the other person's hair in an attempt to make them look as absurd as possible, occasionally splashing each other with water.

Will was leaning against the wall of the tub now, I was sitting in front of him, and Mrs. O'Leary was laying in a puddle in the middle of the bathroom. The walls and floor were spattered with even more soap, water, and dog hair from when she'd shook her coat out again a few minutes ago, which made the place look like the aftermath of a grooming business following a flood.

"You look like Donald Trump on a bad hair day!" I gasped.

"Hey, that's just cruel!" he exclaimed, making me crack up all over again.

Will grinned and then worked his face into a business-like furrow, "I'm super rich, but I can't even afford to make my hair look halfway decent," he intoned, deepening his voice in what I assumed was supposed to be an impersonation of Donald Trump.

I immediately burst into more unrefined chortling, causing Will to grin proudly.

"At least I don't look like I've lived through the apocalypse," he gibed.

I fell back, sending water splashing against the sides of the tub and clutching my stomach. Will nudged me with his foot, "You okay, Neeks?"

"I'm great," I choked.

He snorted, "Yeah, okay. You need mental help."

"Probably."

We both broke down into a fit of giggles that was abruptly cut off by the door being opened.

"Hey, Mom was--" Hazel stopped in her tracks, her mouth dropping open, "What in the world did you guys do in here. . ." Now her eyes finally found their way to where we were sitting in the bathtub and she managed to look even more exasperated, "And what are you doing now?"

Will and I were barely keeping from laughing until her last sentence, and then we completely lost it, Will throwing his head back and me turning onto my side, my entire body shaking with mirth.

"We just thought we'd make sure the tub worked properly," Will said between fits of laughter.

I made a weird hiccuping noise, "It does."

We both dissolved into hysterics again while Hazel watched us from the doorway like she was peering through the window of a mental asylum.

"Hazel," Our laughter quickly faded out at the sound of my mom's voice, "what's going on in-- MY BATHROOM!"

I sat up and Will stiffened immediately, I think we were both preparing for her to blow a gasket, but instead, she just blew out a long breath, looked at me, and in the most forcibly nice voice, said, "Nico, thank you for giving Mrs. O'Leary a bath, but next time, try and keep the bath inside tub. . . and you should probably rinse the dog off." I was almost entirely sure that she would have completely freaked out if Will hadn't been there. Thank God for that boy.

I glanced over at where Mrs. O'Leary was panting happily up at her from the floor, taking note that she was still pretty thoroughly covered in soap suds. "Uh, yeah. . . sorry."

She sighed, glancing around the room once more and looking bewildered and partially furious, "Just know that you're going to have to clean this up."

Will and I both nodded frantically and she nodded back and left, probably not wanting to look anymore at the huge mess we'd made.

Hazel just shook her head at me, "You're so dead once Will is gone," and then she followed after my mom.

Will grinned at me, "I guess I'll just have to stay, then."

I nudged his leg with my foot, grinning back at him, "I guess you will."

-

We'd finished up Mrs. O'Leary's bath and spent an hour cleaning up the bathroom. Now, we were in my room, all three of us soaking wet. I was making Mrs. O'Leary lay on top of several layers of towels that I'd spread out over the wood floor.

Will was rifling through my clothes, trying to find something that might fit him. He already had a pair of dark grey, almost black, joggers that were too big for me, slung over his bare shoulder and now he was complaining about dark my wardrobe was.

"Don't you have anything that's not black?" he asked me, glancing over his shoulder briefly to where I was standing, already changed into a new all-out black outfit. A smile flashed across his features, "Well, besides the beanie."

I laughed at him, "Why would I, if I don't plan on wearing anything that's not black?"

Will shrugged, "Seems like it would get kind of depressing after a while."

My smile fizzled out, "That's kind of the point."

That made him turn and face me, his brow was furrowed, "What?"

"Well. . ." My gaze dropped downwards and I noticed that his soaked jeans were slung dangerously low on his hips. My eyes flicked back to his quickly, my cheeks flaming. "It's sort of a reminder. Just. . . don't worry about it, okay?"

I turned away from him and went to sit on my bed.

"Okay."

He went back to sorting through my stuff and then after a while, he held up two black t-shirts, "I think this one is a darker shade than this one, what do you think?"

I just gave him an extremely unamused look.

Will pretended not to notice, "Yeah. . . I think I like this darker shade better. It definitely suits my complexion more the the lighter shade." He proceeded to make a big show out of holding the shirts up to himself in the mirror, pretending to be deep in thought.

I let out a little huff of laughter, "Shut up, Will."

He grinned, "How many times do I have to tell you, there's no way you're going to shut me up."

I just smiled and shook my head at his back as he turned around, my brow furrowing as he gasped and plunged his hand into my drawer excitedly, "NICO!"

"Uh. . ."

He pulled something out of the drawer and whipped around to face me, holding it out so that I could see, "You do own something that's not black!"

I shrugged, noting that he was holding up a deep purple dress shirt. "I have relatives that ship things to me from Italy occasionally."

Will grinned, "You have to wear this."

"No, why don't you wear it?" I asked grumpily.

He held one up to himself pointedly, proving that it was approximately three sizes too small for him, "Seriously?"

I rolled my eyes, "Okay, so it won't fit you, but there's no way that I'm wearing it either."

"But, Neeks."

"I am not wearing that."

He pouted at me for a few seconds, giving me his very best puppy-dog eyes, but I am proud to say that I actually succeeded in glaring at him the entire time.

"No," I deadpanned, "theres absolutely no way that you're making me."

His face twisted into an expression that was worryingly mischievous. "We'll see about that."

"No, we won't."

Will shrugged, looking all too confident, "You'll wear it eventually."

"Yeah," I scoffed, "and you'll start liking rap music."

"Now, that's just absurd," Will said, smiling like I'd said something cute. "Me liking rap music. . ." he muttered to himself, turning around.

I rolled my eyes at him, but I was smiling.

Will eventually found a shirt that was a semi-decent fit. It was tight on him, barely stretching over his broad shoulders and muscled arms, it was just long enough to extend to the hem of his pants and every time he raised his arms at all, a strip of skin appeared. I laughed at him for it, glaring when he pointed out that it only didn't fit him because I was so small, but secretly, I had to fight not to stare at him the entire rest of the day.

When it was time for him to leave, he leaned down without any warning and pressed his lips to my cheek. "Bye, Neeks."

I raked a hand through my hair, glaring at his back as he practically bounced down the steps and across the street. My cheeks were burning. Coglione.

I whipped around and half-angrily slammed the door to the house closed, trying to ignore how my heart was racing.

-

Sometimes I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to disappear and forget about all of the stupid things that I had to worry about. I wanted to forget about school and homework and bullies and confusion. I wanted to be on my own and read all of the things I had ever planned on reading. Paint all of the things worth painting. I wanted to discover and feel everything. But I didn't want to feel. I only wanted to feel the things that I wanted to feel. Sometimes I just wanted to be alone.

Alone meant a lot more to me than being by myself.

It was ironic that Will called right then and asked me if I wanted to go with him to a party that he'd been invited to. I didn't like the idea, parties were the exact opposite of solitude and I was sure that this one would mean meeting hoards of new people. People that I would have to say something to. People who Will would know and be familiar and comfortable with. It wasn't hard to guess that I'd be pushed to the sidelines by default.

"Parties aren't really my thing, Will."

"Why?"

"It's too crowded and loud. . . too many people. I just don't like them."

I could almost hear the clock ticking in Will's brain. "I'll be there. You won't even have to talk to them very much. You can talk to me."

"I know. . ."

"Please, Nico. I just don't want to be alone."

I want to be alone, Will.

"You wouldn't be alone, you would have your other friends. You wouldn't even miss me." I didn't want to believe that it was true. I wanted Will to miss me. The realization came as a subtle shock.

He was silent for too long, "It's not the same. . . I don't know them as well as I know you."

He never said that he would miss me. My eyes fell shut.

"I thought you said that you felt like you don't really know me. I thought you couldn't figure me out." I knew sounded tired, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"I think I know you a little better now. I think I understand you a little better, di Angelo." His tone was somehow desprate, like he was subtly trying to tell me something extremely important.

I let a silence stretch out between us for a while.

"Solace." I said it like a statement, not his name.

I could imagine the confusion on his face and it made me smile. "Hm?"

"Solace means comfort. . ." I wasn't sure why I was saying it, my voice was barely loud enough to be audible.

"Yeah. . ." He was still confused and his voice was quiet and far away.

"Conforto."

"What did you just call me?"

I laughed, "It means solace. . . comfort, in Italian."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So, will you come to the party with me?"

"Are you ever going to take 'No' for an answer?"

I could practically hear the grin on his face, "No."

"Then I'll go."

"Good. I don't think I'd go without you."

We stayed on the the phone for a long time after that, but we didn't say anything. I could hear his breaths on the other side of the line and I didn't really want to hang up. I didn't know why. It was funny how I'd wanted so desperately to be alone and now I was clinging to anything resembling Will's presence.

"Let me come over."

"Okay."

I spent the entire rest of the day alone with Will. Alone was a lot more than being by myself.

-

The night of the party I just wanted to be alone again. Really and truly alone.

I had to force myself to get up and get ready. I had to tell myself over and over that I would have a good time, that things would be okay because I would be with Will, but I didn't really think it was true.

Will grinned so widely at me when I arrived at his house that I thought his face would break, and then he'd seen what I was wearing and let out an excited gasp, "YOU'RE WEARING SOMETHING OTHER THAN BLACK."

My cheeks were so red they could have passed for stop signs and I was glaring holes into his chest. "Shut up, it's the only nice shirt I own."

That wasn't true, it wasn't even the reason I'd decided to wear the midnight purple dress shirt in the first place. If I was honest with myself, I'd done it purely for Will. Simply because I'd wanted to see the expression on his face, and now I was half deeply regretting that decision and half fighting to keep myself from grinning back at him.

"I told you that you'd wear it eventually."

I grabbed his arm and pulled him outside, "Shut up, Will. We have a party to get to."

It was a surprisingly warm night, most of the snow had melted, and I'd opted not to wear at jacket. Will, on the other hand, refused to leave home without his beloved hoodie and was subconsciously winding one of the strings around his finger as we made our way down the street to wherever this party was at. We'd been walking in comfortable silence for a while and I was lost in my own thoughts, mindlessly following Will as he turned corners and crossed streets.

At one point, I glanced up at him to find that he was already looking at me. He didn't seem to realize that my eyes were on him, his gaze was traveling slowly up my form, making me feel unbelievably exposed. His eyes moved across my neck and then swept lazily up to my face, widening to the size of dinner plates when he noticed that I was watching him.

His face turned bright red and I laughed at him even though my own face was probably even worse than his and I was fighting the urge to wrap my arms around my torso self-consciously.

Will quickly flicked his gaze back forward, muttering under his breath that we were almost there. I noticed that the blush stayed fastened to his cheeks for a long time after that and he was chewing his lip and tugging on his hoodie's strings. Will Solace was flustered and for some reason I was extremely proud of the fact.

He cast a nervous glance over at me, saw the huge, proud grin on my face, and immediately glared at me and then stared at his shoes with his hands tucked stubbornly into the pockets of his jeans until his face faded back to its normal color.

It wasn't hard to guess which house we were supposed to be at once we turned down the street it inhabited. The lawn was littered with random, assorted trash and we could hear shouts and music all the way out here. Lights flashed weakly in the window through curtains that were drawn tightly together, probably caused by some cheap disco lights they'd bought at Target; I was surprised one of the neighbors hadn't called the police on them yet.

"Will. . ." I muttered uncertainly, but he was already walking up the driveway with an excited grin on his face.

"It's just like the movies, Nico!" he exclaimed, and I sighed, hurrying to catch up with him. A smile touched my face, though, it was just so Will to get excited about something like this; a low-budget, crappy party that was mainly too much alcohol and bad dancing and not enough food and good music.

A guy with curly brown hair and blue eyes opened the door. He was tall, even taller than Will, and he was wearing the douchiest clothes of the century paired with messy hair and a huge, drunken grin.

"Wiiiillll! Bro, I haven't seen you in forever!"

It took everything I had not to roll my eyes and leave right then, but I was doing this for Will. I'm doing this for Will. I'm doing this for Will, I told myself.

"Hey. . . Connor?" Will asked uncertainly.

"Travis," the guy corrected, and then he looked over at me with a weird lopsided smile, "We're not even twins, but everyone gets us mixed up." He laughed quietly to himself and then hiccupped.

I consoled myself with the fact that Will was grimacing, at least this wasn't one of his close friends, one of the people I would have to tolerate for the entire night. Travis stepped back and waved us inside, "Come on iiinnnn." He sounded like a stereotypical stoner dude.

After that, everything was pretty much a blur of faces; people called out to Will and he pulled me through the crowd and introduced me to them. I wanted to hide behind him and bury my face in his shoulder or, better yet, sink into the ground and never come back up. I had no idea what to say or how to act, people laughed when I stuttered responses, when I cast panicked glances over at Will.

It was okay at first, I was managing, I was staying close to Will and he was making sure that I knew I was never forgotten. Until he started forgetting. Until I became just a shadow tagging along behind him.

You don't even miss me.

I was getting surrounded by people who were trying to talk to me, laughing drunkenly, I was trying to push through them and get back to Will. I would be safe with Will. Will was my lighthouse, guiding me back to safety. Except I don't think he realized that I was caught in a storm.

Please, please help me.

He didn't seem to notice that I was terrified.

At one point I was standing alone in a small, two-by-two space while people circulated around me. There was too much noise, it was too hot, too many people for this small house. Too much.

Will was three feet in front of me, holding a drink that someone had pressed into his hand, he was laughing along with a group of about five people, and he made it look so easy. He made it look like he'd done this a hundred times, and what did I know? He probably had.

Some girl was smiling at him like a panther, all teeth and no soul. Her skirt barely covered anything and her top wasn't much better. Will wasn't even looking at her, it almost made me laugh, except he was talking to someone else, a boy who was fixing him with a look that was more veiled but still laced with the same intentions. I felt sick. It didn't matter that Will wasn't flirting back, all I knew was that this guy was barely an inch shorter than Will himself and he had shocking green eyes, muscled arms that stretched his t-shirt, carefully styled light brown hair, and perfect skin.

I couldn't stick around and watch this. I had to get away. Alone. I needed to be alone.

Bodies were pressing in on me from all sides, and now I understood claustrophobia. I didn't feel safe or protected, I felt like I was slowly suffocating and I couldn't get out. I had to shove my way through the crowd, choking and ignoring angry comments and dirty looks until I broke through to an open space.

I stood there, gasping for breath for a few seconds and then I continued making my way through the mass of limbs and torsos bit by bit until I found myself at the edge. Things weren't much better here, now there were people pushed against walls, kissing and touching, and I had to look away. I was invading on a moment that was much too private for me to be witnessing.

I was lost and alone and I shouldn't have left Will. I could almost image him and that boy pressed against each other like the people that were behind me now. I could almost imagine Will smiling against his lips, finally, he would be kissing someone that was actually worth his time. I should have been fine with that, I shouldn't have cared, but I did. I cared so much and I wasn't in the mood to deny it.

I needed to find him and stop it. I imagined the scene, it would be like one of those cheesy movies. Maybe Will would be leaning close, his eyelashes drawn and his mouth stretched into a cat-like smirk. The other boy would be much the same, and they would be firing witty comments at each other, casually touching for no reason at all, enjoying the game they played. And then I would come in, my mouth drawn and my shoulders tense, trying to seem intimidating and failing miserably, but still, Will would see me and his smile would falter. The boy would turn and be confused when he saw me, Why does Will care about him? I would march right up to them and grab Will by his collar, kiss him with everything I had, and realization would hit the boy. Will was mine, not his.

The 'music' was barely more than a long string of cuss words over heavy bass and loud, pulsing instruments that made my head ache. I started looking around frantically, trying to find golden hair and a heart-breaking smile, but there was just too many people. People dancing and grinding against each other, people downing drinks, people playing stupid games, people laughing and shouting over the impossibly loud music. I just needed to get away.

If I couldn't find Will then I had to get away from everything else.

I ducked and shoved and elbowed my way across the room until I reached a staircase. I flew down it and across the room, as far away from everything that I could possibly get. I pushed my shoulder blades into the wall, letting it carry my weight, pressing my palms into my eyes, taking huge gulps of air and forcing them out as steadily as possible. I'm okay. I can be okay. I'm okay. I can be okay.

I'm not sure how long it was before I heard footsteps clapping closer to me, I was still shaking and I didn't pay them any attention until the person spoke

"Nico." My name sounded like so much more than a scramble of four letters when he said it. Will. Of course it was Will. Of course he would be the one to notice that I was missing. He was the only one who cared.

Some part of my brain was aware that Will had left him, with the perfect body and beautiful eyes, for me, weak and dull and sad.

I didn't look up as he approached me, but I also didn't resist when he pulled my hands away from my face gently and gripped them in his. I didn't want to open my eyes, though, keeping them closed made me feel more anchored.

"Neeks?" He let go of one of my hands to cup my face, I let it drop down against his chest and pressed my cheek into his palm, taking another slow breath. I didn't even think about pushing him away or ducking out of his arms, I just knew that his presence was comforting. He made me feel safe. He made me feel like I was at home.

There was a beat of silence, I think he was startled at my response, and then I felt his nose touch mine and my eyes fluttered opened to find his staring into them. I wondered if he could feel the pulse in my hand jump the way I could feel his heart pounding against the palm of my hand that was pressed into his chest.

I was just now realizing how close he was to me. The toes of his shoes were barely an inch from being flush with mine. All I could hear were our breaths and the muted blaring of the music in the other room. Will was the only thing I could see, he was the only thing I could feel other than the wall against my back and the floor beneath my feet, but even the earth was unsteady compared to him.

His hair was messy and tangled and his clothes were rumpled, but still, he was like a piece of art, every line carefully placed, every stroke of color meant to draw the eye and steal away breath. His eyes were cast down and half-lidded so that his eyelashes contrasted prettily against his skin. There was the barest space between his lips and they were full and warm and inviting. I knew that expression. I saw it sometimes when I dreamt and it made my blood rush.

I pulled myself up, stretching towards him until the fingers of the hand that had been resting against my cheek pressed against my lips instead.

"Wait." The word was a breath laced with regret. "Do you really want to do this?"

I opened my mouth to answer and he pulled his fingers away, his hand hovered in mid-air for a second, like he was unsure what to do with it, and then he let it settle onto my waist.

The sound of our breaths again, the warmth of his hand in mine. I laced our fingers together, "I really want to." My voice seemed unusually low to my own ears.

I could tell by his expression that he heard the underlying meaning in the words, But I shouldn't. He didn't step away from me, though, but that was okay, I didn't want him to. We stood there like that for a couple of drawn out moments, soaking each other in. He leaned his forehead against mine.

"I like you a lot." There it was, out in the air between us, a breathy confession that only we could hear.

Will shut his eyes, "I like you a lot too, Nico." He sounded almost broken, and my grip tightened on his hand momentarily, my lips pressing together and my chest constricting. I was always so caught up in how hard this was for me, I'd never even considered the effect it had on Will. My gut twisted in on itself. How could I be so completely selfish?

"Kiss me."

He opened his eyes, I could tell he didn't think I meant it. "You might regret it."

"I don't care, Will." I barely had to tilt my head to connect our lips.

It started out slow and gentle, Will reached up with one hand and pushed his fingers through my hair, making me sigh against his mouth. I had wanted this for so long, it was a breath of relief and elation, I felt like I was finally breathing properly. His other hand was still woven tightly with one of mine and my left hand was flattened out against his chest; I could feel his heartbeat thumping underneath his skin. It was beautiful how his lips came alive underneath mine, how he melted against me. I marveled the way I could feel him smiling against my mouth, the way every tiny sigh, the barest movement of his lips, sent energy running over me.

For the very first time, I was barely thinking about myself at all when I kissed him. I wasn't worrying about being clumsy or awkward, I wasn't second-guessing my every move, feeling my insecurities press in on me, convincing myself with every passing second that I should stop; I was barely even thinking about what my lips and hands were doing. Instead, I was completely focused on Will. I was remembering his head thrown back, his face spread into a grin, his laugh, his beautiful singing voice, his gorgeous eyes, his hands, his anger, his hurt, his grief, his joy, the very first time I'd seen him and thought that he made me seem so insignificant, everything. It seemed utterly stupid that I hadn't been thinking of him all of the times this had happened before. How could I not have been thinking of him when we were pressed this close together, when I could taste what he'd been drinking still lingering on his lips?

It seemed fitting that my first taste of alcohol should be right then, when I felt so absolutely drunk already. The harsh flavor didn't match the elation of the moment, though.

My hand fisted itself into Will's shirt, pulling him closer, and he pressed me back against the wall. His hands were flattened against the plaster on either side of my head; one of my hands was trapped beneath his, but I barely noticed.

His lips were guiding mine, nudging them apart so that his tongue could explore my mouth. My hand slipped out from under his with some difficulty, and now both of them were pressed into his back, moving upwards over his light muscles and t-shirt. My fingers dug into his shoulders and then he was gone, tearing a gasp from my mouth.

I stared at him with wide eyes, breathing heavily, and then my mouth started quirking into a smile. Will's face made its way through about fifty expressions in one second: apprehension, fear, hope, shock, everything in between those, and then, finally, all of his teeth appeared at once, making up his signature ear-to-ear grin that made me grin back every time without fail. It seemed so childish, the way we were smiling at each other stupidly, especially because of what we'd been doing not two seconds ago, the intimacy of it. I didn't care, though, I wanted Will to know the way I glowing inside. The way I didn't care about anything at all right then other than him.

He stooped down again, capturing my lips in his, touching my face lightly with one of his hands. I never wanted it to end. The floor beneath me was spinning and I was given the impression that Will was holding me steady, so I clutched at him and gasped when he responded and it made everything tilt and slide even more.

I wanted to make him forget everything except for me. I wanted him to forget the boy with the teasing smile and green eyes, I wanted him to forget his friends, upstairs drinking and laughing and dancing. I wanted him to believe that I was all that was left, that my lips were the only thing keeping him there. I wanted this to be the moment that came back to him over and over again, that made his blood pump faster and his hands twitch the way they did when he was yearning to be holding his guitar so that he could try out a new riff. Except it would be me, not the guitar, that he would be thinking of.

He sighed my name, it sounded beautiful, so I whispered his name back, pulling away for just a few moments to kiss his throat. His fingers faltered against my back, and when I looked up at him, his eyes were closed and his face was tilted upwards, his mouth open slightly.

"Dio," I muttered, and he looked back down at me, his face on the verge of sinking into worry and fear. No, I couldn't let him think that I didn't want this to be happening. "You're so. . . beautiful. You're so, so absolutely beautiful, Will." The words slipped from my mouth and I realized that they were true, Will Solace was even more gorgeous than any painting or photo could ever capture.

He laughed and it made my heart stutter. His hand came up and brushed hair away from my face so that he could kiss my forehead, "However beautiful you think I am, you're a million times beyond that."

Right then, I believed it was true, at least, I believed that he believed it. Why else would someone like him be anywhere near me?

I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my face into his chest. Will smelled like rain-- or more the after effects of it: wet cement, soil, grass, and the taste of newly cleared air-- and something else, something like almonds but not quite, maybe softer, a bit muskier. It reminded me of warmth and home, it was a scent I'd only ever found on him. And a faint trace of alcohol, it was pungent and it didn't belong, not here, woven into the soft colors of his shirt.

"Do you want to leave?" he whispered to me, and I nodded.

"But I don't want to be alone." It felt oddly wonderful to be so straightforward for once, so I decided to try it out again. "I want to be with you. You make me feel safe."

His arms tightened around me and I felt his face press into my hair,"We can go back to my house."

-

We did, and now we were curled around each other in his bed, both of us wearing his pajamas, our foreheads pressed together and our legs hopelessly tangled. We were whispering to one another and every now and then he would kiss me and we would laugh against each other's lips. I couldn't believe I had deprived myself of him for so long. His touch and his kisses and his sweet voice making comments that brought smiles to my face.

"I'm so sorry, Will," I muttered, tracing his collarbone.

"For what?" His voice hitched as I brushed my fingers over his neck and jawline.

My thumb touched his bottom lip, "For putting you through that. I mean, you like me. . ." My voice trailed off uncertainly and his mouth twitched into a smile.

"I do," he reassured me. "You don't even have to worry about that, Neeks."

I smiled back, but with a twinge of sadness, "And I acted like I didn't like you back for so long, but you never gave up on me. I don't understand why, but you never did." I still feel guilty every time you kiss me. I still feel guilty even looking at you.

"It's okay, Nico. I stuck around because I understand why you were afraid, and, more importantly, because I like you much too much too to let you get away that easily."

I felt myself smile without me even consciously trying at all, it had been a while since that had happened. "Can I tell you a secret?" I whispered, half serious and half teasing.

He nodded, "Anything." His eyes were dancing with laughter.

I started mentally counting all of the individual freckles on his face, I got to nineteen before I spoke. "I'm still afraid, but I don't care." It was true, there was still doubt gnawing at the back of my mind, no matter how much we might wish it, insecurities, fears, beliefs, anything that's holding you back, does not vanish all at once. It's a long process to find freedom. I still felt guilty for letting myself indulge in him, like he was a drug, but he was the most beautiful narcotic I'd ever heard of and I didn't care if doing this would tear me apart later.

Will chuckled, releasing the pent-up amusement in his eyes as he shifted and draped an arm over me. "Everybody is a little scared, Nico."

I started counting again, I had to restart three times. "Did you know that you have exactly one hundred and twelve freckles on your face?"

Will opened his eyes, laughing at me, "Is that what you've been doing this whole time?"

I grinned at him, reaching out to brush my thumb from the edge of his cheekbone, over the bridge of his nose, and across his other cheek, where most of his freckles were. They were light, only a few shades darker than the rest of his skin, so you couldn't see them unless you were up close, and he had a few sprinkled around his eyes. "My grandma used to say that freckles are kisses from the sun and the more you have, the more the sun loves you."

Will smiled, "That's cute."

I laughed, "Yeah, well the sun can andare fanculo, because you're mine."

He laughed too, a lot louder than me. "You're priceless, Neeks."

I beamed at him, "I know."

That earned me a playful one-handed shove that didn't really do anything since we were laying down. "Come on, you need to sleep."

I snuggled closer to him and buried my face in his chest. I was already half gone the next time Will spoke.

"Nico?"

"Hm?" I could feel exhaustion tugging on my mind, begging me to just give in and drift off, but I pushed it away, I wanted to hear what Will was saying.

"Earlier, you said that I was yours." He sounded anxious.

I tightened my arms around him and muttered a sleepy, "Yeah."

"Are you. . . I mean. . ." He buried his face in my hair and his next sentence sounded muffled and rushed, "Did you mean it?"

"I'm not letting anyone else take you. . ." I stated instead of directly answering his question. My own voice was thick with sleep and my words seemed almost slurred.

In the back of my mind, I knew I was being selfish. Will deserved someone who could give him everything he needed without feeling regretful afterwards. But I didn't want to let him go.

He let out a breathy, relieved laugh, "I don't want anyone else, Neeks."

I just pressed closer to him, like that could portray the swirling mass of emotion in the pit of my stomach.

THE END! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED! WOW THIS HAS BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE AND I AM SO GRATEFUL TO ALL OF YOU AWESOME PEOPLE WHO nah I'm just kidding there's no way i could end this right here i mean you still don't know why percy is such a douche

i've been so excited to publish this chapter so i really hope that you like it

Me, when writing this fic: ah yes, i think just an extra large dash of angst will do just f-- *kNOCKS WHOLE PINT OF EXTRA POTENT ANGST INTO MIXTURE* ah. . . yes, definitely meant meant to do that. . . That's uh. . . perfect. . . *coughs* Now, I'm gonna have to do a frick ton of fluff. . . *looks in pantry* *demigod swears under breath because I don't have any* well. . . I guess i'll just have to wait until I can go to the store and buy some ahahahahah. . . for now, I'll just add a small dash of cheesiness because you can't have too much of th-- *sPILLS ENTIRETY OF PARMESAN INTO THE MIXING BOWL* whOOPS well you can't have too much cheese, right? shut up i know what i said before. . . Hahahhahahah. . . this is an absolute mess what am i doing... *tHROWS IN EXTRA-LARGE HELPING OF PLOT TO BALANCE EVERYTHING OUT* marvelous. just perfect. exactly what i intended.

Anyway ahahahahahah. And you guys thought I was going to commit mass genocide of fangirls in this chapter. Maybe I still did though, just with fluff instead of angst. Are any of you still alive? Did the Solangelo fluff (i finally had time to go buy some lol) become to much? aRE YOU ALRIGHT?!?!

Every time I update it's just like *lARGE EXPLOSION COMES FROM MY NOTIFICATIONS* and then I'm frantically trying to at least read every single comment (i really try not to miss any) and thERE ARE SO MANY AND IT'S SO AWESOME AND YOU PEOPLE ARE SO NICE!! I lovelovelove hearing your thoughts about my writing as you read. It absolutely makes my daaaayyy. (I'm not even exaggerating like I smile so much when I read your comments it's great) AND YOU'RE ALL HILARIOUS WTF.

ALSO! The Nico art that I added was done by Archangel777 who is quite possibly the greatest human ever (you is smart, you is kind, you is my best frand). Also, Gg, thanks for beta reading the party scene for me that one time. Ily, you big piece of trash.

Anyway, ou people are so great. Like, so far, one person made a YouTube video for me (I DON'T REMEMBER WHO, COMMENT IF IT WAS YOU I KSKSKD) and then I've had two people do fanart (littleduckwrites and Archangel777) like wtf I feel so special what is my life

aND I wanted to thank CreativeName__ for helping me out with the whole bath scene with Mrs. O'Leary when I was hopelessly floundering with the idea and also for giving me the shirt idea, you're absolutely genius. Sorry if I bother you with my constant rambling and asking for your opinion and stuff

Uuhhmmm... there was some other important stuff that I wanted to say too... OH YEAH! I'm putting this whole thing up on AO3 so if you would rather read it on there or you know someone who would, there you go. My username is the same on there as it is here.... and I have a Patrochilles one-shot on there too *whispers* what has hector ever done to me? (i'm so sorry if i just re-opened old wounds) and some solangelo one-shots (there's one that's not on here and one that is) so yeahhh

And, yeah, I changed the titles of the first two chapters because I didn't want them to be song lyrics anymore XD

In other news: I think I've developed a crush on Will Solace through writing about him from Nico di Angelo's perspective everyone give me a slow clap thank you

whatelsewhatelse uh. . . tELL ME ABOUT YOU! yes, that is a good idea, you should do that. what is your favorite number of the alphabet? what is your crush like? (if you have one i guess) do you have a nickname? (i have like 50) what are your hobbies? are you even a human? what else should i know about you?

Okay, now that I'm done with all of that I'm just gonna go back to scrolling through the Aristotle/Dante and Patrochilles tags on Tumblr and crying... also the Solangelo tag... and the Blitzstone/Heartz tag... and the Malec tag... and *rambles off list of ships a block long*

*G note on the piano*