TH0UGHTS
Hades gazed down at the incredibly beautiful woman curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully, and wondered in amazement how on earth he'd end up with her. It could've been any one of Zeus' numerous daughters frolicking by Sicily the day he'd decided to give Zeus a payback. 'It could've been any one of Zeus' daughters,' he repeated to himself, and, by the Styx, who knows how THAT would've turned out!
He cringed to even think about it. There couldn't be anybody else, his mind refused to even consider it. It's always going to be her. It's always going to be Persephone. He didn't want it any other way.
'By the Furies!' Hades threw his gaze to the ceiling of Persephone's humble four-poster bed, as he languorously ran his hand down her back. 'Now how is he ever going to explain this to Demeter?'
He did receive another missive right after Hermes' departure. This time, it was from Demeter's own handwriting. The woman is seven months on the way - thanks to his brother Poseidon, and she's a wreck. He had never had any disagreement with the goddess before, he'd always thought her the most practical and unassuming diety in Olympus, and it troubled him to admit that he had caused this blow into her once humdrum life.
And it was a major blow!
On his part, he was ready to give up Persephone once the matter with Zeus and the giants were settled. He really was. THAT was the agreement he had with Persephone herself. He had a life, and she had hers. They were both clear on that one. They were both doing fine separately. He just didn't know how it'd all end up to... this.
Actually, he still couldn't figure it all out.
He'd been reasoning with himself the first time they'd... failed each other. Nobody could possibly blame him if he'd developed a certain amount of attraction to his wife. Any man with eyes would be easily attracted to the woman. He just didn't expect her to return the favour.
In normal circumstances, he wouldn't even have considered Persephone at all. He even recalled scoffing at the younger gods who began to follow her around like dogs after her official introduction to Olympus. She just never was a prospect for him. She was everything he'd always steered clear away from. A domineering mother, a too sheltered background, she was awfully naive for her own good, and most of all, she was a goddess. Those ingredients had always spelled disaster.
And it WAS disaster.
But by the gods, he wasn't even sure if he wants to let her go.
Damn, he HAD to let her go. What was he even thinking?
It was never his choice to pick. It has always been between Persephone and Demeter. But what he did have the power to do was to deliver back the daughter to the mother. It was never his choice to make her stay or make her want to stay. He HAD to bring Persephone back to Olympus, back to the waiting arms of her mother... and hope... hope that there would be a little part of Persephone that would want to go back... to him.
Persephone revelled at the feeling of water showering down her back, as she took a quick bath, her frazzled nerves slowly getting soothed. She had just woken up, with Hades' arms draped around her, and more startlingly, her arms were coiled across his chest, one leg intertwined with his, as if she'd never wanted to let him go.
Holy Olympus! What is she going to do with him?
She allowed the water to trickle down the length of her body, savouring the sensation of it, but it was still the remembrance of Hades' lips and touch that lingered in her skin. She could feel him in every part of her. He was everywhere. And no matter how much she'd try to rub the feeling off, the memory will always be there.
If any of her nymph friends felt even an ounce of the passion she'd felt for Hades, she'd not be surprised if they're always hankering out from their regular duties just to be with their special someone.
She closed her eyes just recalling how brazenly she'd responded to his every touch. She'd never felt more like a goddess until she'd found Hades. And she had no idea how he does that!
The length with which she'd separated herself from Hades' only emphasized what she'd been speculating all along. She more than liked him. She loved him. Just as he is. With all his flaws and everything else that went with him, Macaria and Cerberus in tow, she wouldn't want him any other way. She came to realize that what was troubling her, was not the feeling that he'd drawn out from her, but HOW she'd reconcile him with the life she had left in Enna.
'And would her mother ever understand?' she asked herself.
Rhea assured her that Demeter would, but... it just doesn't feel right. It just wouldn't make sense. Her mother had gone through so many things in the past few months for her, none of them good at all... it just wouldn't feel right to ask her to reconsider. To even ask her mother to do so would border between insensitivity and pure self-centeredness. Both of which Persephone frowned upon.
'Oh, if only she'd gotten to know Hades in a more conventional manner!' Persephone exclaimed.
A pair of strong arms suddenly wrapped itself around her waist and lips tracing a hot trail down the back of her neck effectively distracted her from her thoughts. She placed a hand to the wall in front of her to steady herself.
Hades turned her around, meeting her lips with his. She captured his face with her hands just as soon as she'd got air to breathe, eyeing his beard, she suggested, "We really have to do something with that beard."
He tilted his head, "You really don't like it, do you?" he smirked.
She shook her head with a short laugh.
"I thought so," he nodded and then left her so suddenly it made her feel utterly bereft. He returned with a shaving knife at hand, the other one rubbing soap into his jaw, and then shoved the razor into her hand.
"You do it," he proclaimed.
Persephone's eyes widened, "I don't..." she stuttered in shock, raising the razor in her hand, "I don't know how to."
Hades smiled, "That's why I'm teaching you how to," he replied, mimicking her last statement, guiding her hand down his jaw.
Persephone's breath hitched as she watched her hand, holding the shaving knife, his fingers coiled around her wrist as he guided her down the base of his throat, moving slowly upwards to his jaw in careful, mechanical motion. He guided her through to a few more strokes, each one leaving a trail of soft shaved skin in his jawline, before he let go of her hand.
Persephone stared at him, startled, "I... I might hurt you," she aired with hesitation.
He shook his head knowingly, "No, you won't," he said, planting one hand down her waist and the other supporting both of them on the wall behind her.
'No, she won't,' she acknowledged herself. She wouldn't know what to do with herself if she'd hurt him.
He allowed her a few silent, hesitant moments with the razor, being extremely careful not to dig in too much into the skin, fearful of possibly cutting him.
"See..." he encouraged on her first swift, clean stroke, brushing his lips to hers, "You're doing great."
Lessening her tension, Hades eased her into a conversation as she began her task anew, "There's going to be a masquerade in the palace tomorrow," he informed nonchalantly, "The number of deaths from the mortal lands have perceptibly reduced after your mother resurfaced. The judges demanded a celebration."
Persephone narrowed her eyes on him, the razor in her hand suspended in its motion, "Are you inviting me?" she inquired, "Or seducing me back to the palace?"
He titled his head, "The last one sounded lovely."
Her lips drew to a straight line.
"That is IF you do want to attend..." he added, "Remember, I'm not forcing you..."
Persephone considered for a moment and then returned her attention back to his jawline, "I'd think about it," she replied.
This time, he remained silent and allowed her a few quiet moments to actually concentrate on the shaving knife in her hand as she tentatively ran it across the remaining hair across his jawline. Not that it was any improvement at all, their intimate position kept her at eye level with Hades that she was, all the time, painfully aware that his eyes never left her face. And whenever she had the urge to look up at him, he was always gazing back down at her. And it made her feel undone a little bit more every time. He was maddening!
She let go a loud breathe of relief when she finally did finish, she smiled proudly looking at her work of art, "Well, there you are," she teased.
But he didn't smile back. The look in his eyes made shivers to run down her spine, and he whispered in that deep baritone voice that will forever be carved into her memory, "I love your eyes."
She swallowed hard, "I thought you loved my legs."
The moment the words got out of her mouth, she immediately wanted to swallow them back down.
A wolfish grin ran across his face, "Observant," he praised with a slow laugh, "Very Observant." Her breathing seemed to stop as his face suddenly hardened, pushing her back on the wall, throwing the razor away, raising her up and wrapping her legs roughly around his hips, "Let's put that observation to the test, shall we?" he said.
He made a growling noise in his throat as he bent down for one overpowering kiss, one second and she'll be helpless to his demands, one more moment and she'll be an accomplice to her own desires. She strained away from the kiss and he gave her a questioning glance.
She couldn't bear the thought of looking into his eyes and she wrapped her arms around his neck, marvelling at the feeling of his broad shoulders, and whispered into his ear, "I want my own chambers, Hades. My own."
He knew exactly what she was referring to for his shoulders immediately stiffened. She wouldn't want to develop any sort of relationship with Hades while she continues to share another woman's chambers, regardless if she's already dead and gone! She would never want to be fighting with someone else's memory.
And he understood her. Or at least didn't make any objections about it, because she suddenly had him pushing her back into the wall, answering roughly, "Whatever you wish, milady," he uttered in a tensed voice, "Whatever you wish."