foreshadow || a percico story

• Chapter 4 •

Footsteps. A quick breath.

More footsteps. A shallow exhale.

A halt. A sharp inhale.

*   *   *

Cold wind blew in the too early morning, while the sky was still fairly dark.

But that never bothered Nico. The way his hair billowed in the zephyr, or how his oversized clothes pressed against his slender, pale complexion didn't cloud his thoughts out, nor did it irk him.

The dim lighting that the lamp posts offered on the sidewalks were just enough to figure out the obstacles that stood in his way. 

His night adventures were always serene in an eerie way that nobody understood or appreciated except him. Walking down the streets with his hands in his pockets, Nico counted the stars illuminating the dark sky, contemplating the constellations while thinking about the myths behind them. What he did was incomprehensible to others.

Nobody except his lost family appreciated the small things in life. Even though life was short, Nico liked to drag out his days by doing uneventful things like what he was currently doing.

Nothing ever troubled him on these strolls, mainly because nothing ever broke the peace these streets generated. Only back in his neighbourhood did unsettling things happen.

But this time contrasted the others.

After walking away from Percy, Nico felt something knotting up inside his chest. The feeling was indescribable, barely understandable. 

He felt hot, then cold. He changed to feeling sick, then to healthy, and just seemed befuddled in general.

Whatever Percy did to him, Nico didn't know whether he should be grateful or resentful.

But it wasn't only Percy. It was the way Nico decided to look at him.

Those green eyes the shade of the abyss of the sea, those turquoise features in the irises pulling Nico in, turning darker as it edged towards the pupil. Those dark eyelashes that enveloped his eyes in the most graceful way ever, dragging him into the pit he was already starting to fall in. And yes indeed, that gaze did successfully pull him into the sea he wasn't ready to swim, the mountain he wasn't ready to climb, the horse he wasn't ready to tame.

Nico shook his head, unsure what to do with this feeling he never quite understood nor felt.

Instead, he walked slowly, dragging out the steps, counting the pace he was using.

Footsteps. Inhale. Footsteps. Exhale. Footsteps. Inhale shakily. More footsteps. Exhale sharply. Come to a halt. A quick breath.

Jolting his head up, Nico caught a glimpse of the figure in front of him, drawing out his lean and muscular complexion of the man standing before him like an artist would do. But the blonde hair elegantly dancing in the breeze didn't do any good at camouflaging in the darkness of the dimly lighted sky.

"Nico!", the teenager grinned wildly, his dimples growing larger and the dark half-moons under his eyes crinkling.

The raven black-haired boy slowly recognized the teenager's striking electric blue eyes that seemed to shine in the gloom that enveloped them in a strange but reassuring way.

From how shuffled he looked, Nico took time to draw out his aspects. The boy's close-cropped blonde hair seemed longer, his face tanner, his eyes gleaming with malice.