An inferno blazed red, the unbearable heat choking him alongside the heavy smoke. No life in site, and in the desolate, dead, darkness you'd think that a spawn of Hades would enjoy it here.

Wrong, the darkness of the Underworld was different, there it was refreshing, almost energising. Here though, it was cold, maddening, as if it slowly extracted your soul from your body. No place for a mortal, no hope of survival besides relying on the molten lava that burnt excruciatingly a it slid down his throat, still, it's his only lifeline.

He wouldn't make it back, he knew it, and it would be so temptingly easy to just give up then and there, give in to his surroundings that begged for the life to be sucked out of him. However, stubborn willpower kept him going, he was a proud person, he would go down with  all the evaporating fight he had.

It was difficult though, intensely difficult, all besides the heavy smoke or the lifeless terrain, it was utterly terrifying, scarring. He didn't register his own emotions well, he was never good at it, but despite the burning heat he still shivered erratically, his grip tightening by the second on his stygian iron blade, yet still slipping from the sweaty palms.

Never good, just the bad and the ugly.

The scene swirled, growing increasingly blurry, he felt himself being pulled back into a new state of consciousness. "Nico," a hazy, calm voice whispered, "Nico, wake up."

It all happened too quickly, deteriorated as he was brought back into reality, his surrounding were still dark though, the slightest light peeking from the edges of the door.

He was pulled into a warm embrace, the good kind of warmth. The type that made you forget the horrors, instantaneously rejuvenating. Even though he could still feel himself shivering as he curled in closer to his lifeline.

"You're okay, Nico," the soothing voice assured, "It was only a nightmare." His eyes squeezed shut, enjoying the comforting feeling of those familiar hands running through his hair, despite the sweat that he was sure was accumulated upon his forehead. He felt lips pacify his fear as they brushed across the crown of his dark, inky strands. Nico forever immensely grateful for Will's arms that rooted him into a safe haven.

Hold me in this wild, wild world.
Cause in your warmth I forget, how cold it can be.
In your heat, I feel how cold it can get.
So draw me close.

AN
This was very, very short - I'm aware. But I was listening to Warmth by Bastille and I got the sudden inspiration and urge to write this. I hugely recommend you listen to it, it's probably my all time favourite Solangelo song, and the live version is so raw. I've attached it above.