Never ending dreams
HERMES'S POV
She never noticed him.
Never.
Not one glance.
Not one word.
But he noticed her.
How her auburn hair shone when the sun hit it just right.
How her eyes flickered but never showed any emotion.
How when (if) she smiled her eyes crinkled around the edges.
He wanted so much to tell her how he felt. He wanted so much to hug her, to hold her, to kiss her…but that could never happen.
That didn't me he stopped hoping.
Day and night he would think about her. He was love struck; head over heels in love.
His dreams were about her. His thoughts were about her. Even when he delivered mail and messages, he was always distracted, getting a faraway look in his eyes, gazing into the distance at something only he could see.
If only she would notice him!
He tried desperately to get her attention. When she would enter the Throne room, he would stand up as she took a seat. He would frantically race to open the door as she left, always asking if he could get her something. Telling her it would be his pleasure to be of service to her.
It might never happen.
But he still hoped.
ARTEMIS'S POV
She knew he liked her.
All those favors he did. Always looking at her dreamily.
She knew.
That's why she ignored him. That's why she never said anything to him, never acknowledged him. Pretending she didn't hear his comments to her. A newborn blind baby could see it. Anyone could see how he felt for her.
That was why she pretended.
Pretended she wasn't interested. Pretended he didn't exist.
Pretend she herself didn't have feelings for him.
But she did.
How could she, the Virgin goddess of the Hunt, fall in love with him, the Messenger god of Trickery and Lies? It just didn't seem possible.
It seemed…fake.
Unworldly.
Unreal.
So completely…dream-like. Fairytale.
No other way to describe it.
As she steals a glance his way now, sitting in the Throne room hardly listening to the argument that had sprung between Demeter and Ares, she finds him looking at her. His brown-gold gaze never leaving her face. His steady gaze never wavering as her eyes meet his.
Slowly, softly, shyly, he smiles.
She stares at him for a few more seconds, looking into his eyes, trying to read him. Finding out what her next course of action will be. She knows she should roll her eyes, annoyed, and then return her gaze to the confrontation in front of them. But she doesn't. Something in those eyes holds her. She suddenly feels grounded. She feels that those eyes are what are holding her to Earth, to reality, to life itself. And she knows nothing will ever be the same between them again.
And slowly, softly, shyly, she finds herself smiling back.