[𝐍.𝐁] 🐚 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀

wait... was that a date?

It started like any other late patrol flight.

The others were busy checking supply routes, the Iron Lion quiet after a long day. Bea had asked, "You wanna fly for a bit? Clear your head?" and Nico, as always, had nodded like she just offered him the stars.

So they went. Just the two of them.

No war talk. No weapons. No rush.

Just dusk hanging low over the hills, their hoverboards weaving through clouds like they were skating on wind. She laughed when he almost lost balance trying to race her, and he muttered something about unfair advantages and her "born-in-the-sky blood."

They stopped midair, hovered over the edge of a cliff where the sea was visible far below. There, with their boards idle and their legs dangling off the edge of the sky, they just... talked.

About everything and nothing. 

Childhood memories. What kind of sandwich they missed most. If they'd ever dye their hair weird colors if the world wasn't ending.

And when the wind got colder, Bea quietly took off her outer jacket and threw it over his shoulders because "you look like you're freezing and I'm warm-blooded, shut up."

Eventually, they headed back, boards humming beneath them.

Back in the Iron Lion, dust settling in their boots, Bea turned to Nico as they were about to part ways for the night.

She squinted at him. "Wait..."

He blinked. "What?"

"That wasn't... like..." She scratched her head, suddenly awkward. "Was that a date?"

Nico frowned like he had to reboot his brain. "Wait. Was it?"

They stared at each other.

Cue internal panic.

"No, right?" she said too quickly.

"I mean—" Nico coughed. "I wasn't trying to. I mean—not that I wouldn't, I just—"

Bea nodded. "Yeah, yeah, same. Definitely not a date."

"Yeah."

"Cool."

"Cool."

They stood there. Awkward silence.

Then she smiled.

"...Wanna not-date again tomorrow night?"

He smiled back.

"Yeah. I'd like that."