Chapter Text
The petals fluttered in the wake of his passing - ephemeral flecks of green in his dim and lifeless realm. This place reflected him so well, all grays, drab blues and blacks. Color didn’t belong here. But still, he followed the faint, green path laid out before him, a whisper of springtime that pulled him onward with a gentle insistence he wouldn't dream of denying.
He found her sitting alone at a bench, looking out over the river and the ghostly city beyond. The brightness of her hair and skin against the dull skyline never failed to surprise him. Maybe it wasn’t that color didn’t belong here - she belonged wherever she was. He just didn’t...deserve color. Not here.
Even in the muted deeps of the land of death, she heard his footsteps and looked up as he approached. Her eyes were sadder than usual; clearly, something was weighing on her spirit. And yet, as he had found himself imagining many times over the past weeks...he couldn’t shake the feeling that in spite of everything, she was glad to see him.
Just the wishful thinking of an old fool, surely.
The corners of his mouth lifted when he saw Meli curled at her feet. “You little scamp. I didn’t even realize you were gone.”
“Pomelia’s been keeping me company...haven’t you, girl?” she cooed quietly, reaching under the seat to scratch the tiny dog around the ears. One slim, white shoulder strap slipped down her arm, and before his conscious mind could catch up to remind him about boundaries or limits, he found himself slipping the strap back into place, his fingers brushing against her collarbone. He froze and then hastily dropped his hand to his side, uncomfortably self-conscious.
Her eyes were on his face, her features a picture of naked vulnerability that could almost burn away his own insecurities. Blue flowers had begun to blossom around her temples. They suited her so much better than the acid green they replaced.
“We missed you at the meeting.”
It was the only thing he could think to say. It was neutral. Safe. Impersonal.
She looked back over the dark water. There was a tension in the lines of her back, and he noted the faintest, telltale tremble around her mouth. “I’m really sorry I didn’t go. I just...couldn’t, today.”
He sighed and moved to sit at the other end of the bench. “You know, sweetness, I’m always here to talk, if something’s bothering you.”
“Sweetness, huh? I thought we agreed to keep things...professional.” He stiffened at his mistake, then relaxed when he saw that she was smiling. “Ten percent, for sure.”
“Only ten? I know I can do better than that.”
It was easy to fall into the banter, but he could tell it was a distraction. Her tone was light and teasing, but her heart just wasn’t in it.
“Really, Persephone, I mean it. Anything I can do for you, I will. You have only to ask.”
The tremble became more noticeable. “Thank you, Hades. That means a lot to me.”
Silence stretched between them, but something had shifted. Her stiff posture slumped a little, and she let out a deep breath. Her feet began to swing idly of their own accord as she reached down to pet her small friend again. “I think...I think this is all I need right now. Just to sit here quietly with you. If you don’t mind.”
It always took him by surprise, how a few simple, sincere words from her could open something inside his chest and let in a warm glow, like a match suddenly struck in a dark room. All he had to do was guide it to the hearth, and maybe he could have a bright fire where there had only been dead embers and ash.
“Then I’ll sit here for as long as you like.”
…
Peaceful minutes had passed.
“Hades?” Her voice was barely louder than the whisper of the water. She was looking away and biting her lip.
He leaned closer. “Mm?”
“I know I made a big deal out of boundaries, and I feel stupid for even asking this, but...do you think it would be okay if, um...if I put my head on your shoulder? I just...I haven’t been feeling very good lately.”
As if he could ever deny her.
“Of course, sweetness.” He lifted an arm in invitation, and she scooted over and practically melted into his warmth. Such a cold, dark realm, but somehow, for her, he always had warmth to spare.
A heartbeat passed. Then another.
“Hades?” Her voice was even quieter than before, and he strained to hear her. He turned his head and saw how close her upturned face was to his own, her eyes full of an expression he couldn’t place. Vibrant blue flowers crowned her head, all green lost.
“Yes, sweetness?” He raised one hand to brush away a stray lock of hair and cup her chin. “What is it?”
Her eyes fluttered shut and one of her hands reached up to caress his own, so large in comparison. The flowers in her hair weaved a sweet perfume around them, and, though he didn’t notice, a stand of blossoming almond trees began to grow around where they sat, blocking them from view.
“Hades.”
It was no longer a question. It didn’t demand an answer. It was just a quiet, private admission, breathed out on a quiet, private shore, in a quiet, private moment that stretched around them. Their noses brushed. Her hand slipped from his and joined the other to cup the sides of his face, glide behind his neck, slip into his hair.
“Hades, I…” he felt the breath of her words on his lips...and then there was no space left for talking.