You are My Light

Chapter 1:

That Fateful Day

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The constant ticking of the clock and the quick change of day into the night troubled him. He had been sitting at his desk for hours, his hand that gripped the ball point pen elegantly poised over a small stack of papers and still.. Nothing.

For hours, he sat, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. His hand trembled as he tried to write something- anything. Anything would do as long as he wasn't met with a blank piece of paper.

Maybe he has lost his will to write? His inspiration? His muse?

His name was Hades Aidoneus and he was a writer that couldn't write.

~o0o~

The next day he walked outside in the cold, cold morning, his hands fisted inside his warm pockets. He was out to find a new muse, though the chances of him actually finding one out of the blue were slim.

Winter was coming and h highly doubted that there are people actually willing to go out and face the sting of the cold –himself excluded- so why, in heavens name, would his "new muse" be out in such horrid weather?

Hades sighed and looked up at the dreary sky, his dark green bangs covering most of his naturally sculpted face as he did so. "Darling," he whispered almost lovingly to himself. "Show yourself to me."

Shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, he marched on ahead. Boots crunching and crumbling the fallen leaves almost made it a pleasant experience for him. He didn't mind the cold that much. For him, it was better than the sweltering beatings of the sun during summer or the constant buzz of the insects that constantly annoyed him during spring.

Autumn and winter were his favorites. The time when the leaves change their colors from a plain shade of green to a vibrant array of reds, oranges, and yellow fascinated him. It made him think of a person's life and how easily it could shrivel up and die if he'd done nothing to make anything of himself.

And the winter; ah, winter. That time where the world easily transforms into a monotone of blues, whites, and greys always gave him this feeling of solitude. The cold numbed him of his sorrows and pain far better than a bottle could. The way the snowflakes move in a slow ballad calmed him. In a single glance, they're all the same but at close inspection, all of them have their own quirks and differences.

It was funny, he thought bitterly, that he could think of these things but achieve nothing on paper. He didn't achieve anything for the past few months. Now for him, writing was a chore; not a passion anymore. He just didn't have the fuel to keep him going.

For months on end, he was bombarded, threatened, and humiliated by his agent, his friends, his family.

He was a disgrace.

A joke.

A failure.

~o0o~

Hades didn't know how long he was walking nor did he care. He didn't have anyone waiting for him at his home, never had. Though, there was that tiny part at the very back part of his brain, at the deepest lever, that told him to go ahead and look.

It wasn't that he was not attractive, no. In all actuality, Hades had the features that women would swoon at and men scowl in envy. His dark green locks that tumbled until they reached his shoulders covered his wonderfully sculpted face where a beautifully chiseled nose and rosy red lips resided. But his eyes, dear god, his eyes. With sharp eyes that were tainted in a crimson red that could pierce any man's soul.. He completed the mysterious look that women would fight to have a piece of.

He could have any woman –or man- he would have desired. But none of the people around him satisfied him. They didn't give him that.. that spark that he oh so longingly craved for.

He walked until he reached the middle of the city's plaza. A fair amount of people were gathered, all of them are smiling and some children dancing. He could hear the obvious sound of a tambourine playing. Shrugging his elegant shoulders, he strode towards the crowd and looked.

And almost dropped to his knees.

In the middle of the crowd danced a man with long, long golden hair. He had a face of an angel; with a long face, soft lips and a beautiful nose that could have made any angel look inferior but he gave those traits little attention. Hades was drawn to his eyes. A pair is breathtaking eyes the color of the deepest part of the ocean tinged with the heavenly blue of the sky. He truly looked as if he was molded by the gods themselves.

He was awestruck; he couldn't and wouldn't deny it. But when this blissfully gorgeous creature opened his mouth, the green-haired man could almost feel every bit of his soul being pulled out and captured into the man's dainty hands.

A happy melody escaped the man's lips, a wonderful tone that he could listen to for the rest of his life. A voice so pure that the creatures of heaven would die to just get a quick sample of it. That would made the birds' song inferior. They weren't worthy to sing in his presence.

When he sang, Hades thought that time had stopped and there was only him and this wonderful creature. With every verse, the man moved and twirled all the while singing those fast and lively notes. He had captured the attention of the people.

And the heart of a tortured writer.