The things that Annabeth knows about Nico di Angelo could be used to fill a book. A very large book, like the hulking dictionary she has back home. That wasn't always the case.

“I need you to show me how to put on make-up,” he goes, all at once, and she blinks at the seahorse patterned shower curtain. There’s no way she heard that right. She finishes buttoning up her shirt and steps out of the shower carefully, wet feet sliding a little on the tile. “Make-up,” she repeats, looking at him as she winds an elastic band around her hair. “Yeah,” he murmurs, embarrassment burning in his eyes. “She uh, wants me to go as Belle.”