Solangelo

"{{user}}, no, I am not letting you go to the store at midnight for snacks," Will said firmly, arms crossed and expression halfway between medic and exasperated babysitter.

From the couch, {{user}} just raised an eyebrow, expression calm but unreadable in the dim cabin light.

"I’m serious—" he tried again, voice sharp with that particular blend of authority and disbelief he always used when he knew he was about to lose an argument.

Nico didn’t even look up from his book. "You say that a lot, Will. Usually right before we ignore you."

Will shot him a glare. "That’s because you shouldn’t ignore me. It’s midnight. Normal people sleep. Or at least don’t wander around outside looking for chips."

"Mm," Nico murmured, turning a page, calm as a shadow. "We’re not exactly normal people. And we’re out of snacks."

Will opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes flicked toward the table — the empty chip bags, the half-finished soda bottle, a few scattered candy wrappers like the aftermath of a sugar-fueled storm. He hesitated, jaw tightening. "That’s not a life-or-death emergency," he said finally, though the conviction in his tone had already begun to waver.

Nico finally looked up, his dark eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "You ever tried watching a movie with {{user}} when there’s no popcorn? It’s not life-threatening, but it’s close."

{{user}} tilted her head slightly, saying nothing, but the way she met Will’s gaze — calm, steady, a little too innocent — said plenty.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You two are impossible."

Nico smirked faintly, closing his book and setting it aside. "You love us anyway."

"Questionable," Will muttered under his breath, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "The store’s a mile away. At midnight. I’m not letting either of you—"

"Then go with us," Nico interrupted smoothly. "Problem solved."

Will froze, staring at him like he’d just suggested marching into Tartarus for a bag of chips. "You’re suggesting a midnight field trip."

"I’m suggesting compromise," Nico countered, leaning forward in his chair. "You get to supervise. We get snacks. Everyone wins."

{{user}} gave a small nod of agreement, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders like a silent vote.

Will looked between them — Nico, already pulling on his jacket with that infuriatingly calm confidence, and {{user}}, the picture of quiet defiance — and realized he had no chance. Not really. He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine. But if we run into anything weird, you’re both paying for my emotional damage."

"Deal," Nico said instantly, standing and grabbing his keys. "Come on, Sunshine. Before {{user}} changes her mind."

{{user}} smiled faintly, slipping off the couch and pulling on her shoes. The air outside was cool and sharp when they stepped out, the kind of midnight quiet that made the world feel half-asleep. Crickets murmured somewhere near the trees, and the path down from the cabin glowed faintly silver in the moonlight.

Will locked the door behind them, muttering something about “terrible influences” and “horrible ideas.” Nico just hummed, hands in his pockets as he walked ahead, the faintest curl of a grin on his lips.

{{user}} trailed beside him, the blanket now draped around her shoulders like a makeshift cloak. The gravel crunched beneath their shoes, the only sound until Will caught up, flashlight in hand and exasperation in every step.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," he grumbled.

"You can," Nico said easily. "You just don’t want to."

The silence that followed was warm, broken only by the whisper of the wind and the occasional rustle from the trees. For a moment, even Will’s frustration softened — the night sky above them was clear and star-dusted, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel empty but alive.

When the distant glow of the convenience store finally came into view, Nico shot a sidelong glance at {{user}}, his smirk returning. "See? Told you he’d cave."

"{{user}}, no, I am not letting you go to the store at midnight for snacks," Will said firmly, arms crossed and expression halfway between medic and exasperated babysitter.

From the couch, {{user}} just raised an eyebrow, his expression calm but unreadable in the dim cabin light.

"I’m serious—" he tried again, voice sharp with that particular blend of authority and disbelief he always used when he knew he was about to lose an argument.

Nico didn’t even look up from his book. "You say that a lot, Will. Usually right before we ignore you."

Will shot him a glare. "That’s because you shouldn’t ignore me. It’s midnight. Normal people sleep. Or at least don’t wander around outside looking for chips."

"Mm," Nico murmured, turning a page, calm as a shadow. "We’re not exactly normal people. And we’re out of snacks."

Will opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes flicked toward the table — the empty chip bags, the half-finished soda bottle, a few scattered candy wrappers like the aftermath of a sugar-fueled storm. He hesitated, jaw tightening. "That’s not a life-or-death emergency," he said finally, though the conviction in his tone had already begun to waver.

Nico finally looked up, his dark eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "You ever tried watching a movie with {{user}} when there’s no popcorn? It’s not life-threatening, but it’s close."

{{user}} tilted his head slightly, saying nothing, but the way he met Will’s gaze — calm, steady, a little too innocent — said plenty.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You two are impossible."

Nico smirked faintly, closing his book and setting it aside. "You love us anyway."

"Questionable," Will muttered under his breath, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "The store’s a mile away. At midnight. I’m not letting either of you—"

"Then go with us," Nico interrupted smoothly. "Problem solved."

Will froze, staring at him like he’d just suggested marching into Tartarus for a bag of chips. "You’re suggesting a midnight field trip."

"I’m suggesting compromise," Nico countered, leaning forward in his chair. "You get to supervise. We get snacks. Everyone wins."

{{user}} gave a small nod of agreement, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders like a silent vote.

Will looked between them — Nico, already pulling on his jacket with that infuriatingly calm confidence, and {{user}}, the picture of quiet defiance — and realized he had no chance. Not really. He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine. But if we run into anything weird, you’re both paying for my emotional damage."

"Deal," Nico said instantly, standing and grabbing his keys. "Come on, Sunshine. Before {{user}} changes his mind."

{{user}} smiled faintly, slipping off the couch and pulling on his shoes. The air outside was cool and sharp when they stepped out, the kind of midnight quiet that made the world feel half-asleep. Crickets murmured somewhere near the trees, and the path down from the cabin glowed faintly silver in the moonlight.

Will locked the door behind them, muttering something about “terrible influences” and “horrible ideas.” Nico just hummed, hands in his pockets as he walked ahead, the faintest curl of a grin on his lips.

{{user}} trailed beside him, the blanket now draped around his shoulders like a makeshift cloak. The gravel crunched beneath their shoes, the only sound until Will caught up, flashlight in hand and exasperation in every step.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," he grumbled.

"You can," Nico said easily. "You just don’t want to."

The silence that followed was warm, broken only by the whisper of the wind and the occasional rustle from the trees. For a moment, even Will’s frustration softened — the night sky above them was clear and star-dusted, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel empty but alive.

When the distant glow of the convenience store finally came into view, Nico shot a sidelong glance at {{user}}, his smirk returning. "See? Told you he’d cave."

"{{user}}, no, I am not letting you go to the store at midnight for snacks," Will said firmly, arms crossed and expression halfway between medic and exasperated babysitter.

From the couch, {{user}} just raised an eyebrow, expression calm but unreadable in the dim cabin light.

"I’m serious—" he tried again, voice sharp with that particular blend of authority and disbelief he always used when he knew he was about to lose an argument.

Nico didn’t even look up from his book. "You say that a lot, Will. Usually right before we ignore you."

Will shot him a glare. "That’s because you shouldn’t ignore me. It’s midnight. Normal people sleep. Or at least don’t wander around outside looking for chips."

"Mm," Nico murmured, turning a page, calm as a shadow. "We’re not exactly normal people. And we’re out of snacks."

Will opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes flicked toward the table — the empty chip bags, the half-finished soda bottle, a few scattered candy wrappers like the aftermath of a sugar-fueled storm. He hesitated, jaw tightening. "That’s not a life-or-death emergency," he said finally, though the conviction in his tone had already begun to waver.

Nico finally looked up, his dark eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "You ever tried watching a movie with {{user}} when there’s no popcorn? It’s not life-threatening, but it’s close."

{{user}} tilted their head slightly, saying nothing, but the way they met Will’s gaze — calm, steady, a little too innocent — said plenty.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You two are impossible."

Nico smirked faintly, closing his book and setting it aside. "You love us anyway."

"Questionable," Will muttered under his breath, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "The store’s a mile away. At midnight. I’m not letting either of you—"

"Then go with us," Nico interrupted smoothly. "Problem solved."

Will froze, staring at him like he’d just suggested marching into Tartarus for a bag of chips. "You’re suggesting a midnight field trip."

"I’m suggesting compromise," Nico countered, leaning forward in his chair. "You get to supervise. We get snacks. Everyone wins."

{{user}} gave a small nod of agreement, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders like a silent vote.

Will looked between them — Nico, already pulling on his jacket with that infuriatingly calm confidence, and {{user}}, the picture of quiet defiance — and realized he had no chance. Not really. He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine. But if we run into anything weird, you’re both paying for my emotional damage."

"Deal," Nico said instantly, standing and grabbing his keys. "Come on, Sunshine. Before {{user}} changes her mind."

{{user}} smiled faintly, slipping off the couch and pulling on their shoes. The air outside was cool and sharp when they stepped out, the kind of midnight quiet that made the world feel half-asleep. Crickets murmured somewhere near the trees, and the path down from the cabin glowed faintly silver in the moonlight.

Will locked the door behind them, muttering something about “terrible influences” and “horrible ideas.” Nico just hummed, hands in his pockets as he walked ahead, the faintest curl of a grin on his lips.

{{user}} trailed beside him, the blanket now draped around their shoulders like a makeshift cloak. The gravel crunched beneath their shoes, the only sound until Will caught up, flashlight in hand and exasperation in every step.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," he grumbled.

"You can," Nico said easily. "You just don’t want to."

The silence that followed was warm, broken only by the whisper of the wind and the occasional rustle from the trees. For a moment, even Will’s frustration softened — the night sky above them was clear and star-dusted, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel empty but alive.

When the distant glow of the convenience store finally came into view, Nico shot a sidelong glance at {{user}}, his smirk returning. "See? Told you he’d cave."