Chapter Text
“Espresso con panna for Martin?”
Nico di Angelo leaned over the short counter, holding up an indigo coffee mug with a matching saucer. He looked around the small shop, before spotting a rising middle-aged man with a five o’clock shadow and a tired look on his face. It was probably the fifth night in a row that Nico had had the unfortunate displeasure of making coffee for the customer. Oh, and what a journey that was every night.
“That’ll be for me, Niccolo,” The man called out, standing up with a small grunt. Yeah, as if he didn’t order the exact same thing every evening. It took quite a bit of effort for him to walk the few steps from his seat near the window to the counter. And once he got there, and Nico began to hand over the cup, he frowned, and stared down at his coffee.
“Why is there whipped cream on it, Niccolo?” The man questioned, looking up slightly to meet his eye.
It took all of his effort for Nico to not either roll his eyes, or start screaming in frustration. “Because espresso con panna has cream. ‘Panna’– that’s cream in Italian, sir. So espresso con panna is—”
The poor barista got cut off yet again by the customer’s muttered complaints about ‘unobservant youth’ and ‘baristas ruining good coffee’. Nico quite unceremoniously shoved the cup towards the man and turned his back, walking to another section of his workspace. As he picked up a small towel, he heard the lingering complaints of the customer as he made his slow walk back to his table.
Nico paused for a moment, and just bit his tongue. It’s not worth it to argue.
He began to wipe down the counter next to him, absentmindedly listening to the usual ambiance of the shop he worked in. The tinkling of teacups and spoons was heard, and the soft hum of the relaxing jazz his boss insisted on playing every hour of the day sprinkled in inbetween the quiet chatter of the coffeeshop’s customers. It was a small, quaint shop, not exactly the usual lively chain brand cafe that most tourists flocked to. Not that many tourists flocked to the city in the winter months either way, though.
Nico allowed himself to show a slight smile as he worked, rubbing away at the numerous stains on the surface with the towel. It wasn’t a tedious task, and it allowed him to ponder his dinner while he thought. The smile fell.
Dinner, Nico tilted his head at a particularly difficult stain. Bread and butter? Or possibly pasta? Do I even have pasta?
The barista’s brows furrowed as he thought. There wasn’t much to eat these days, with everything being so expensive. Especially for a lone student working night shifts at a coffee shop.
For a sweet moment everything was peaceful, though. Nico zoned out and cleaned, a million thoughts running through his head in casual chaos. But alas, the soft dings of the bell over the entrance door sounded, signaling the arrival of another customer. Nico looked up, awkwardly folding the towel up before moving to the cashier register. Daydreams could wait, he had a job to do.
“Welcome to Caffè della Città! May I take your order?” Nico forced a smile, inwardly cringing at the name of the shop. It was as if everything this business did was a personal attack on his native language, from the generic name to the misspelled drink names on the chalkboard on the wall behind him.
“Death Boy!” A familiar green-eyed lifeguard grinned down at the barista, his arms folded across his chest. “Long time no see.”
“Percy,” Nico’s lips pressed into a thin line as he looked up at the boy, who was oh-so-casually leaning against the counter. Wearing summer clothes, with just some winter gloves on. “What do you want this time?” A snarky tone made its way into Nico’s words.
Percy was nothing more than an annoyingly chipper nuisance in Nico’s day. Every day. It felt like some kind of punishment for working in the damned coffee shop—seeing this guy every day. But at least he was cute. . .kinda.
“Chill with the snappiness, di Angelo. Or. . .should I say. . .Niccolo?” Percy smirked, raising an eyebrow at the nametag Nico was wearing.
Nico scowled. He didn’t particularly like people using his full name. But of course, the cruel twists of fate forced him to wear the darn thing every day over his brown apron. He huffed and tapped the cash register, then looked up at the boy, who looked quite pleased at Nico’s annoyance of him.
“Today’s special is caffè corretto, and the pastry I recommend with that is a bomboloni,” Nico said quietly, busying himself with the cash register.
“Alcohol with a dessert? Trying to get me drunk, Niccolo?”
“It’s not alcohol. It’s coffee with alcohol, moron. And you’re intolerable while sober, I’d hate to deal with you drunk. ”
“Same difference, little man,” Percy reached a gloved hand down to ruffle Nico’s hair, earning a harsh scowl from the shorter boy. “Let’s do a. . .vanilla macchiato with whipped cream and sprinkles. Blue sprinkles.”
Nico grimaced at Percy’s awful pronunciation.
“Will that be all? Or do you want to throw in more toppings so all of Italy comes after you with pitchforks?” Sprinkles on coffee? Seriously? This guy must’ve been insane, to suggest that. And blue sprinkles, nonetheless. “Where the hell do you expect me to find blue sprinkles? Want me to individually sit and pick out blue ones for your enjoyment? Gosh, have some reason, at least.”
“What, you can’t alter an order a little?” Percy tilted his head, smiling that stupid crooked smile he had whenever he annoyed the barista every evening. And morning. And noon. “You’ve been a barista for what, two years?” He clicked his tongue. “I should tell Reyna that her star employee needs to retake those courses on customer service.”
Another scowl from Nico.
“I’ll take your order, Jackson. Calm your horses,” Nico paused. “Seahorses.” He looked quite proud at the pun as he finished inputting the order, and walked to another part of the counter to begin preparing the monstrosity that his customer had ordered.
Percy stared at the barista for a long moment. He tapped the counter and sighed, pulling out a wad of cash to toss onto it. After a moment of staring at Nico’s back, he decided to just move to a small table near the door, to wait. Nico was pretty quick with coffee-making, so he knew it wouldn’t be that long before the boy called his name out. Probably with an insult or swear attached to it, too.
As per usual, a few minutes later, Nico walked to the end of the counter, holding up a purple mug and saucer. Ah, the little passive-aggressive actions the barista exercised only amused Percy more.
“Vanilla macchiato with sprinkles for Percy?” Nico called out.
Percy got up, strolling quite lazily to the counter. He flashed the barista a smile and took the mug and saucer, eyeing the drink in his hands.
“Sprinkles aren’t blue. . .but they're fine. I guess,” His head tilted slightly as he pondered something. “Hm. Maybe a lower tip, though. Y’know, customer’s always right.”
As Nico’s obsidian-black eyes widened ever so slightly at the comment, Percy let out a small laugh. “I’m kidding, di Angelo. I’m not going to withhold your tip. Don’t worry your pretty little emo head.”
“I wasn’t worried about your stupid tip.”
“Oh? You looked a bit worried there. I wonder why. Maybe it’s because instead of taking up a more popular, safe major, you went for some Ancient Greek studies thing?”
“I told you, just because we study Ancient Greece doesn’t mean my whole school life is centered around–” Nico got rudely cut off before he could finish.
“Chill, Nico. I’m kidding,” Percy paused, a sly smirk appearing on his stupid pretty face. “And maybe come out of Hot Topic’s vintage section once in a while?”
Nico just scowled, muttering under his breath as Percy paid for the drink, and sat down. Probably texting his girlfriend again, Nico thought. Of course Percy was. The guy was heads over heels for this one architecture student he met at university. Meanwhile, Nico was all alone. Womp womp womp.
“Hey Percy?” Nico called out after a few minutes, busying himself with the display case of desserts that was next to the cashier.
Percy looked up from his disaster-coffee, a slightly peeved expression on his face as his texting got interrupted. “What now?”
“Do you uhm, do you think I should like, you know,” Nico adjusted a few plates of desserts, making sure they were facing the correct way. He glanced up at Percy, feeling his heartbeat quicken a little as he made eye contact with the boy.
“You should, uhm, like, huh?” Percy raised an eyebrow at his friend. “I know damn well you have enough words to use in English to make better sentences, emo boy.”
“Shut up,” Nico frowned at the boy. “Should I, uh. . .” He paused. “Is getting a dating app worth it?”
Percy burst into laughter, attracting the attention of good ole’ Martin, who scowled at the college student’s loudness. Nico immediately flushed, a soft pink covering his pale cheeks.
“You? Dating app? Nico! That’s hilarious–” Percy slapped his knee, nearly howling with laughter. “You– you’re like a grandpa, how’re you gonna use a dating app? I had to teach you how to copy and paste!”
Nico swallowed, shoving a pastry-topped plate quite roughly to the side of the dessert case. “Could’ve just said ‘no, Nico’, you know. Instead of,” he motioned at Percy’s laughing form, “this.”
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just hilarious to imagine you—” Percy slapped his knee again, throwing his head back. Those striking green eyes shut as he laughed, further deepening the blush on Nico’s cheeks. “No, Nico, no. Go out and socialize. Maybe try a bar sometime? You’re like a hermit. School, work, library, the Hot Topic vintage section. . .”
“Hot Topic doesn’t even have a vintage section, you dingus. And, hey, I’m not a hermit!”
Those Atlantic-ocean eyes opened once more, meeting Nico’s as Percy calmed his laughter down. Wow, if only Nico didn’t have such boring eyes. Dark brown. Blue and green-eyed people had all the cute ‘ocean’ and ‘forest’ and ‘sky’ descriptors, while Nico was stuck with ‘mud’ and ‘tree bark’. What luck he had.
“Sure it doesn’t.” Percy breathed out, smiling that lopsided grin he had. Nico looked away quickly, toying with the collar of his shirt.
The coffee shop’s business slowed significantly after Percy left. Martin-the annoying prick-thankfully left right after Percy did. LIttle by little, the rest of the patrons trickled out, opening their intricate little umbrellas to face the light rain outside. It was quite calming, really. Great ambience, along with the jazz music. Nico, after cleaning every single plate, piece of cutlery, and surface, decided to take a short break. He deserved it, right? Right.
As he sat down in a nearby chair, he noticed a few sprinkles on the floor. Oh, come on. Percy. Stupid beautiful Percy and his stupid sprinkle coffee.
“Shift’s done, little man,” A voice called from the back of the coffee shop. Nico’s head perked up, and his face paled a little as he saw his boss: Reyna Ramírez-Arellano in the flesh. He gulped, and stood up, wringing his hands together.
“Yes ma’am. I cleaned the tables, the towels are in the laundry, the pastries are thrown out—” As he mentally ticked off the closing-shift checklist, Reyna leaned against the doorway to the back.
“Nico. Go home. It’s, what, ten o’clock? Don’t you have class tomorrow morning?” Reyna raised an eyebrow at the boy, her eyes wandering from the analog clock on the wall to him.
“I do. It’s an eight AM, don’t worry,” Nico lifted the apron over his head, sighing in relief as he felt the material stop scratching his neck. “Am I still working the closing shift tomorrow?”
“Y’know, for someone who’s barely twenty-one, you sure dress like you’re from the 20th century,” Reyna eyed the boy’s outfit.
Nico was wearing a beige button-up shirt, with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows. His pants were the ones he wore on most days, some simple black slacks.
“I swear, you walk in looking like some lost businessman, put on an apron, and then walk out a shift later looking like a frazzled middle-aged office worker. You do realize we don’t have a dress code, right? Wear a hoodie, for all I care,” She continued.
Nico’s lips pursed as he lightly shoved past his boss, moving to hang up the apron on a hook near the doorway. Reyna just smirked as he passed. She turned around to look at him as he picked up his messenger bag, and got out his umbrella.
“We should take you shopping,” She commented.
“I don’t know who ‘we’ are in this situation, and I’d rather not. My clothes are fine. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“You know who I mean, come on. Live a little, di Angelo. Maybe try a thrift store, or someplace. I can drive you to the mall, if you want,” Reyna rolled her eyes. Nico was very clearly not amused at the banter, as the boy very much was not excited about a possible trip to the mall. He had better things to do than window shop and pity his own empty wallet. “And yes, you’re working the closing shift. Again.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, fumbling as he shoved his arms through his sleeves. The older barista watched him with an amused smirk, biting back a laugh as he adjusted the strap of his bag across his chest.
“Hey Nico?”
“Yes, Reyna?”
“You’re taking the metro home tonight, right? I don't want you walking home in the rain.”
“Reyna. . .” Nico’s brows furrowed. It was probably the ninth time that week that his boss had asked him about the metro. Even though as far as she knew, he walked home.
“I’m just asking,” Reyna raised her hands up in a surrendering motion, shrugging.
“I will. Don’t worry yourself. Good night, Reyna.”
“Night night, Nico.”
A speeding car spraying New York City rainwater on him wasn’t even the worst thing that occurred to Nico di Angelo on his gloomy walk home. He got chased by a hungry raccoon, tripped over two manhole covers, and nearly got jumped by a group of drunk college students. What a walk.
After a long, long while of shivering and scuttling through the crowded streets, Nico finally reached his apartment building. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he walked in and up the few flights of stairs to his quaint little home.
As he stepped in, the first thing he smelled was the book-scented candle he had been gifted by one of the coffee shop’s regulars. Yummy. He quickly shrugged his coat off, throwing it onto the back of a kitchen chair before kicking his shoes off. Even his socks were wet. Gross.
It would be a wonder if he didn’t catch a cold later on.
Nico slumped onto his bed, letting out a loud groan. My bed. . .
He managed to force himself into a sitting position, blinking slowly at the ground. The beige carpet beneath his brown socks stared back at him, and it took him a moment or two before he got up again.
The boy made his way across the little studio apartment he occupied, and opened the refrigerator. A few carrots and leftover pizza slices were neatly on the top shelf of the fridge, and a half-filled bottle of ketchup was seated on the fridge door.
What a lovely, healthy selection of food.
Nico picked up a carrot, slamming the fridge door shut. He flinched as the sound echoed in the flat, but was too tired to be annoyed. Instead, he just walked the two steps it took to get to the sink, and began to wash the carrot.
No pasta, I guess, Nico thought sadly. Pasta? In this economy? The closest, most affordable replacement for his favorite Italian meals would be dollar-store ramen. And Nico di Angelo did not like ramen.
Dinner was short, and not sweet. Honestly, Nico felt more like a rabbit than a person, munching away at the carrot as he scrolled through his phone. Same old news, same old assignments, same old everything.
“I might as well be living in a hamster cage. That’d be cheaper,” Nico mumbled to himself, looking around the apartment. The walls were a depressing shade of beigish-white, and the carpet was only a few shades darker, covering a majority of the floor. His bed was messily made, and the bathroom door was cracked open. “Or maybe a nest? I could bribe a bird with sunflower seeds and–”
He paused. Then shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts away. He was going to start going insane if he kept considering animal homes as places to rent.
Nico didn’t buy many decorations for his house. If anything, his desk and laptop were the decorations, tucked away in a corner next to one of the few windows he had. It was a miracle he had the laptop; the school had given it to him for free after he had complained about not being able to research or study properly.
He stood up from the chair, and looked at his closet. Black clothes, gray clothes, beige clothes. . .brown clothes. How colorful! He looked down at his current outfit and frowned a little, his brows furrowing. Maybe Reyna was right. Maybe he did dress too formally.
But what else could he wear? He worked after his classes ended, and his classes required people to ‘dress for success’, as his professor put it. Socratic seminars, long discussions over philosophy, translating tales into Ancient Greek. . .
It was all very old-fashioned, Nico had to admit. Too proper and fancy for his liking, which was rich coming from him. Him and his button-up shirts, his gloomy academia outfits, and his messy dark hair that people constantly reminded him to cut. But oh well. He only had a year or two left before he got his degree.
Nico’s phone dinged, signaling that it was midnight. The boy groaned, and walked sluggishly to his bed, plopping down onto it. He was too tired to change into his pajamas. Wet clothing would have to suffice for the night.
Who needed pajamas anyway, when he had to translate the Iliad into Latin the next morning?
But before poor Nico could doze off for the night, his phone dinged again. He groggily turned over, reaching for his phone.
‘McDonald’s?’
Nico sat up a little. Hazel. McDonald’s. At midnight.
‘Haze, it’s 12 in the morning. Sleep. I want to sleep. You also need to sleep.’
Not even a minute later, his phone dinged again. Nico let out a loud groan, having been brought back to the land of the awake. He seriously debated just powering his phone off and ignoring his half-sister’s messages, but he knew better than to ignore her.
She’d probably just show up at his front door if he did, anyway. So he forced himself up again, and tapped his phone screen once more.
‘Please, Nico? Happy meal’s on me. . .’ Was the reply he was met with. A free Happy Meal? It was quite the tempting offer.
Nico’s stomach growled.
‘Fine. Meet you in thirty.’
Nico felt more and more like a walking icicle as he traversed the streets of the city to get to the damned restaurant. A Happy Meal surely wasn’t worth this much trouble, was it?
But seeing Hazel’s smile once he walked in was.
“Nico!” Hazel jumped up from her seat, rushing over to him. Before he could stop her, she had thrown her arms around his neck, tugging him down to her height as she hugged him.
“Oomf—”
Nico awkwardly patted the shorter girl’s back, dripping water all over the entrance of the McDonald’s. The lights were the disgusting fluorescent ones that hurt his head, and the smell of food wafted towards him from the kitchen.
“Hello, Hazel,” He whispered, barely managing to hold back a smile as she got on her tip-toes to hug him better. The girl sure liked hugging people.
“Do you want explaining why you woke me up at midnight to get food with you?” He asked. Nico could smell the faint scent of her flowery perfume emanating from her winter coat.
“Come on. I know you weren’t awake anyway,” Hazel let go of him, tugging the boy towards the table she had been sitting at. A Happy Meal was already there, a little heavenly treat waiting for him to devour. A small Sprite was on the other end of the table, presumably hers.
She wasn’t wrong, but Nico still rolled his eyes at her comment.
It wasn’t his fault he ended work so late. Well. . .got home so late, at least.
“Still not a proper explanation,” Nico fished a fry out of the bag, chewing on it. Hazel sat down, looking up at him as he hovered near the table.
“You’re always too busy. The only time I can get you out of the house is after work’s done.”
“Which is also the very convenient time I should be sleeping and getting emotionally ready for my classes,” Nico pointed the fry at her.
“Sorry, Nico,” Hazel frowned. She leaned down to sip some of her soda, then motioned for him to take a seat. He did so.
“Thanks for the meal.” Nico’s voice was muffled as he ate. He hadn’t had dinner yet. Nor lunch. Just a pastry for breakfast. And Hazel knew that.
“So Nico,” Hazel started, swirling the straw around. Her gaze flitted from the soda cup to him, then back down to the cup. “Found anyone yet?”
He looked up from his fries, his eyebrows raising.
“Nope. Not yet. Just me, my books, and the empty, soulless pit in my heart.” He deadpanned.
“Oh, shut up, you sound edgy. Did you ask Percy about the dating app stuff?” Hazel leaned forward, a smirk playing at her lips as she watched Nico eat.
“Yup. He laughed at me. A lot. I don’t think it went well. He said to go outside and socialize.”
“Well, Nico, he’s not wrong. You live, breathe, and sleep work and school. This isn’t even a work-life balance, this is just straight up work-school,” She frowned at him. “And technically, it’s not even balanced.” She added at the end, a bit more quietly.
She toyed with her sleeve, and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Nico just continued munching on the fries. Leaving a few aside.
“You don’t have to ration food, you know. I’ll buy you some if you don’t have enough,” Hazel murmured.
“I’m not poor, Hazel.”
Nico didn’t want pity. Nor did he want sympathy. Especially not from his younger half-sister. She had enough on her plate without the addition of worrying over him.
“I never said you were—” Hazel argued, straightening up a little. “Would it kill you to accept help once in a while?”
“Yes, Hazel. I would rather jump off the top of Mt. Everest in a barrel. With only a swimsuit on. And in the winter.”
“God, you’re so—” She took a breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s like you want to live the hardest life you can. I know you’re struggling, you know you’re struggling, even Reyna knows! When you need help, just accept it, damn it! Do you think I want to see you eat half a cucumber a day for a week straight because groceries are too high? And your clothes are from when we were little, and the. . .”
Nico had tuned her out by her second sentence or so. He looked to the side as she rambled, eyeing the rest of the restaurant. A few employees were cleaning up the nearby tables, their shoes squeaking against the floor.
One of the male cashiers made eye contact with Nico and smiled. Nico’s ears turned pink, and he quickly turned his attention to Hazel again.
“Nico.”
“Hazel.”
“Do you think you’ll ever—”
“No, Hazel. Not yet. Not now.”
Hazel sighed.
“Thanks for the Happy Meal, again,” Nico smiled weakly at her. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, then stood up. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, then straightened up once more. “I’ll make more time to visit you, okay?” He paused. “I still miss you, you know. I’m not trying to ignore you.”
Hazel nodded. “I miss you too, Nico.”
Nico nodded. He smiled once more, and headed for the door, ready to battle the rainy weather for the third time that night.