So...I've had this little story on my mind for quite some time. Here are a few things I want to make clear first;
1) I do not own any of these characters. They rightfully belong to Disney.
2) This is my second attempt at writing femslash, so please go easy on me.
3) This story will contain mentions of past abuse (physical, sexual, emotional) as well as past drug and alcohol abuse and mentions of infidelity. Eventually, there will be smut so again, if y'all are underage, then calmly step away from the story! You've been warned!
4) If you happen to enjoy this story, great! If not...well...that just makes me kind of sad...but hey? Everyone is entitled to their own opinion!
Anyways, enough of my blabbing! Read on my loves!
It's after midnight, and there's two raps of knocks on her front door in quick succession.
Looking sharply over her shoulder, Meg Korso sighs mordantly as she rolls her eyes. Who the hell is at my door?!
Because in reality, the last thing she wanted right now was company. She turns back to her sofa, kneeling on the ground, the sound of the zipper buzzing through her ears as she carefully closes the pouch that contained her brand-new Yamaha guitar. She takes a look at her packed suitcases that were situated near her sofa, studying each of them with squinted eyes to make sure that she wasn't forgetting anything.
Whoever was at the door could wait.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Fuck off! She wanted so desperately to shout out. She groans as she rolls her eyes once again and instead, rises to her feet. The last thing she needed was to have her neighbors in the apartment a few doors down to be calling the front desk to complain.
And truth be told, she especially didn't need an impromptu visit from her creepy landlord.
She stifles a yawn as her bare feet tread across the hardwood floor of her apartment. Once she makes it towards the door, she doesn't bother to use the peep hole to see who it was. Nor did she take a second to quickly glance at herself in the mirror to see if she looked the least bit presentable. Because at this point, maybe it wouldn't be such a horrible thing if she had opened the door to find a serial killing knife wielding maniac barge into her home and do whatever he wanted to her.
After all, there were better places to be than here on Earth. She would sometimes think to herself.
Rubbing the tiredness from her eyes, her hand grasps the doorknob, preparing to be slaughtered and drowning in her own pool of blood…
…but when she pulls the door open, her eyes are widened, her brows are raised and her muscles go rigid. Because the person who was standing on the other side of the door, was the last person she ever expected to see again.
"Meg…"
"E-Elsa…" She breathes, completely knocked sideways. "What…what are you…"
The woman standing in front of her is an emotional wreck. Her platinum blonde hair is still in its usual French braid, though it looked like its seen better days. Her beautiful sapphire eyes are now bloodshot around the edges. Purple bags coated underneath her eyes; proof that lack of sleep had gotten to her. She looked thinner than usual, her cheeks slightly gaunt and pale, and a fat swollen lip with what looked like dried blood was the last thing to add to the picture.
Not to mention, her usual style of skinny jeans paired with her two-inch azure heels with a white blouse were swapped for a pair of black yoga leggings, light blue flip flops and a minty blue tank top with a black leather jacket. Proof that thinking twice before she had left her house had been the last thing on her mind.
"Meg…" She croaks with pleading eyes, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I'm…I…"
"Elsa," Meg swallows with a pained look, "…what happened?"
The woman blinks once, and then another. She quickly turns away, staring shamefully at the ground. "I…I…he…"
Meg takes a tentative step towards her. She pinches her chin between her thumb and forefinger, gently tilting the woman's head up so that their gazes could meet for what felt like eternity. She swallows down a large lump. Her own eyes slowly began to water as her stomach dropped.
The bruise that had begun as a purple stain above Elsa's eyebrow had sunk into the socket itself. Leaving to now have the appearance of a black eye. And right away, Meg could already decipher the pain in those eyes. The pain she knew full well that had been sitting there for the past two years. She merely uses her thumb, stroking Elsa's cheek softly, watching as the woman was now craning her neck as she instantly leans into her gentle touch.
"He did this to you." Meg says quietly. "Again."
Elsa only looks at her. Gaze pleading. Begging. Because the look that Meg was giving her, it only confirmed her suspicion. Even Elsa knew that Meg was no stranger when it came to something like this. All she could do, was to shift her eyes to the side yet again, only for them to become glazed with a glassy layer of tears. And when she blinked, they dripped down her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. Her lower lip trembled as she finally looks back into those violet pearls staring into her own.
Those violet eyes that she dreamed of seeing once again.
"He…" Her voice tightens, pitch wavering. "Meg…he…"
"Come here."
Meg pulls Elsa close to her and wrapped her arms around her. Hands climbed up Elsa's back as Meg pulled her towards her and closes the distance between them. Their bodies press together, as Elsa desperately lifts her arms and wraps them around Meg's neck. She buries her nose into the crook of Meg's neck, inhaling her sweet scent of lavender that always filled her with nothing but joy and passion. Her body shakes with sobs into her shoulder, holding onto her for dear life, as if she was afraid to ever let her go again.
"Shh…it's okay, babe." Babe…how she missed hearing that word from those sweet lips. "I'm here."
Meg's voice was always so soft, so beautiful, and so…alluring. A soothing melody that Elsa remembered always falling asleep to after their nights of passionate love. A beautiful song that Elsa so dearly missed for the two years they've been apart.
"Meg...oh Meg…h-he…" She chokes on the plentiful of sobs burning in her throat. "H-he hit me…he b-beat me…h-he wouldn't s-stop…"
"I know."
She does. Because Meg herself knew this situation all too well. Her own past immediately begins to play ring-around-the-rosy like a deadly plague in her head.
A horrific nightmare she so desperately wanted to avoid for the rest of her life.
"I-I…M-Meg…I…I-I'm s-so sorry…" Her voice was muffled by the fabric of Meg's black cropped t-shirt. "Oh Meg…I-I miss y-you…"
"It's okay, Elsa." She means it. "Shh…I've got you, okay?"
Meg slowly pulls away, though they still stayed close. Elsa was hiccupping. Her body trembling. Tears ran uncontrollably down her cheeks, and Meg only brings her hands up. She cups Elsa's face in her hands, running her thumbs softly to wipe the tears away from her pale cheeks.
"I won't let him hurt you again." She tells her.
Elsa's eyes widen. "He…he'll f-find me…"
"No, he won't." Meg leans forward to place a soft kiss to her forehead. "You're staying here with me, okay?"
"I…I am?"
She sighs with a small smile. "Yes." She strokes her cheeks. "For as long as you need."
"But…Meg…" She croaks, "M-Meg I…I c-can't-"
"Yes, you can. You'll be safe here." She says in firm but gentle tone. "You're not going anywhere else."
'I can't do that to you.' Elsa only opens her mouth to speak, but closes it shut. The words she so desperately wanted to say failed to make their appearance. 'I just can't. Not after what I did. Not after how I horribly treated you. Not after how I just pushed you away and acted like you meant nothing to me. I don't deserve you or your kindness…but I still love you'…"Meg…I-"
She's silenced by the gentle force of their bodies being brought together. Arms wrapped around her being. Meg's embrace was always warm, and her arms were very protective when they wrapped around Elsa's frail body. Instantly, the world around them melted away as she squeezes her back, not wanting the moment to end.
"You're coming with me."
She pulls away slowly, furrowing her brow. "…Coming with you?"
"Yes."
"You mean we're…" A pause. "We're not…staying…"
"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "We're going somewhere."
"But Meg…where…"
She pauses, noting the way how Meg nodded over her shoulder. No doubt that she had caught sight of the two suitcases and the duffel bag that stood behind Elsa's heel. Truth be told, Elsa had been silently hoping that Meg wouldn't notice them.
But judging by her odd request, it was clear that she had.
"…where will we go?" She asks quietly instead.
"It's okay." Meg whispers. "You'll see."
They'd already been driving for an hour. The only downside was that they still had another hour to go until they reached their final destination.
Especially because normally, driving on a one-way road at twilight was not something that Meg usually preferred. No matter how many times she's done it alone on numerous occasions, something about didn't seem safe. And she would be lying if she didn't admit that there were times where she had a sense that she was being followed.
But tonight, was different. And for once, there was an odd sense of comfort that blanketed her instead of being cloaked with fear and uncertainty.
She doesn't take her eyes off the smoothed paved grounds in front of her, making sure to follow the trail of her bright hazards lights that lit up the road like strobing lights in arena. Her hands were gripped tightly on the steering wheel, her foot eased off the pedal just a tiny bit as she slowly manoeuvres her Mazda around a curve.
Truth be told, since they had left, she made sure to keep her focus on what was in front of her. Not bothering to look at who was beside her. And if she was being honest with herself, a heavy weight of guilt is now sitting on her chest. Because part of her was thinking 'she left you and now she wants to come back?'. No matter how much the feeling of neglect and abandonment was aching inside of her, all feelings of bitterness and resentment needed to be put aside.
Elsa needed her. She needed that love from her that she failed to get at home.
And Meg was more than willing to give her those needs.
Even if it pained her to do so.
"Elsa?" She finally musters up the courage to look at the woman sitting hunched in the passenger seat. "…Are you okay?"
The woman is quiet at first, clutching her duffel bag protectively in her lap. Because truth be told, it wasn't like she herself had made any effort to look in Meg's direction either. Nor did she take any sort initiative to start a conversation.
Instead, Elsa keeps her eyes focused to the side, staring out the window as she watched blurry black shadows of pine trees passing by. Forcing herself to focus on anything else other than her. Because in reality, how she could bare to look at her? How she could bear to look at the woman whom she betrayed?
The woman who turned her bad days into good days? The woman whose love was the only medicine she needed to get through in life? The woman who always made her laugh with those sarcastic and witty comments? Who always put Elsa's needs above her own? Whose touch would send electric waves surging through her entire being? Who would make sweet love to her that left her having a glance at what heaven looked like?
And the woman whose heart she had shattered into a million pieces?
As much as she wanted to, she couldn't. She couldn't stand the thought of looking into those eyes that had promised to love her for the rest of their lives.
Instead, all she does is close her eyes and lower head. She catches her quivering lip between her teeth, ignoring the pain of the swelling. There's a thickness in her throat, attempting to swallow down the large lump sitting on her vocal folds. You don't deserve her! Because she doesn't. You don't deserve her! Because she absolutely loathed herself for even thinking that she did. You don't-
"Elsa." She winces as the title was said hesitantly, though it held a slight firmness to it. "Can you please look at me?"
Her eyes are still closed and she inhales sharply through her nose. You don't deserve her!
"Hey,"
She tries not to jump at the feeling of flesh meeting her own. She turns sharply to look to her side, noting how Meg had reached over the console and gently grabbed hold of her hand. Part of her was wanting to rip her hand away, too dirty to hold onto a hand that had always reassured her that the world was safe.
But she does the complete opposite.
Instead, she lets Meg lace their fingers together, her thumb rubbing over her cold knuckles. She doesn't look at her, deciding to keep her gaze focused on their hands linked together. Because truth be told, she missed this. It was all she wanted and everything she craved.
"It's going to be okay."
It's going to be okay…
She wanted to believe that. Really and truly she did. She just wasn't sure how long being okay would last for.
They weren't exactly sure what time they had arrived. But that didn't matter. The important thing was that they had each other, and that was all they needed.
It was the cottage where they had ended up that caused Elsa's eyes to bulge, her mouth to drop open and a light gasp to escape.
The beige coloured paint of the exterior on the outside with white accents around the door, windows and railing. The pathway was long and straight like the last time. Mellow grey cobblestones leading towards those few steps that had led her to the door where sweet temptation always waited for her with eagerness. The delicate wind chime attached to the awning, the sound always sung mezzo soprano to the sounds of their soprano moaning and whimpers. Two enormous maple trees stood proudly beside the house like they always did.
Because this was place was all too familiar.
Because this was a place that she never thought she would ever see again. And it was the place that had made her commit a handful sins behind those closed doors like it was no one's business.
"Come on." Meg had gently urged as she wrapped a protective arm around her, preventing her from wanting to turn on her heel and run away from this.
Meg didn't seem to have a problem walking down the stony path, nor did she have an issue when she climbed those steps to the front door. Because of course, this was her place after all. The place where she needed an escape from the realities of living in the busy streets of Toronto. The place where she would often seek solace and tranquility for creative inspiration.
And of course, it was the place that she had opened up the doors for Elsa to come and join her any time.
But for Elsa, with each step she took, she was greeted by those memories of dishonesty. Guilt sits heavily on her chest. Her heart thuds violently inside of her chest. As she's climbing the steps, arms wrapped tightly around her being, the thoughts of unfaithfulness come to haunt her.
Her breath hitches in her throat at the sound of Meg's key dangling as she opens the door, noting how she doesn't bother to turn on the lights. Instead, they're engulfed in darkness, and Meg wastes no time in guiding her through the pitch-black darkness towards the bedroom. Elsa says nothing as Meg helps her to sit on the bed, gently instructing her to wait there until she brought the rest of the suitcases inside.
Elsa says nothing as she sits in the dark room, with only the thin white columns on the moonlight to seep in through the glass windows, and it bounces of her black leather jacket. She keeps her head bowed, a solemn look spreading across her features. Because the bed that she was sitting on, was the very same bed that induced the images of her infidelity to come to light.
The things that she and Meg had done in this bed was haunting.
But at the same time…it was comforting.
Haunting in the sense that cheating on her fiancé was wrong. But it was comforting in the sense that when she would be here with Meg, there was a sense of security. With Meg, it wasn't just sex. It was much more than that. And Elsa hated to admit that being here with Meg was her own escape from reality.
Instantly, regret washes over her like the long slew of waves that echoes faintly on the shallow beach outside. It was in that moment when she felt tears forming heavily on her eyelashes. They slide down her cheek one by one, and she does nothing to stop them. How she longed to go back and take a different path, but now that was impossible. There was no way back, no way to make things right. Remorse was already eating away at her like there was no tomorrow. But even she knew deep down, that she would have to live with this for the rest of her life.
Though her thoughts are immediately put on hold at the sound of the door closing and locking. The shuffling followed by small grunts of heavy lifting causes a knot to form in her stomach.
It was in that moment when Meg's shadowy figure is standing in the doorway that had forced Elsa to slowly look up from the ground. It was dark, so they couldn't make out the expression on each other's faces. But judging by their body language, it doesn't take Meg a century to know that there was sadness radiating from her being. And when she slowly makes her way towards her, shifting her weight onto the bed so that's she sitting next to her, it doesn't take long for her tears to burst forth like water from the dam. Feeling the muscles of her chin tremble like a small child.
Elsa says nothing as Meg wraps her arms around her and brings her close. She says nothing as she buries her head into Meg's neck. Fingers snaking up and down her spine, warm lips pressing a kiss to the crown of her head and she desperately wraps her arms around Meg's waist. Brick by brick, the walls that always kept her up on her feet, always kept her strong just...collapse. She sobs unceasingly into Meg's shoulder, her frail pale hands clutching at the leather fabric of her jacket.
"Shh." Meg's sultry voice whispers into her ear as she slowly rocks her back and forth as tears soaked her neck and shoulder. "You're okay, Elsa. You're okay."
Because being okay was the one thing she wanted to feel right now.
Meg stayed up all night.
It was now shy of six thirty in the morning and she hadn't gotten any sleep. Maybe it hadn't been such a wise idea to have made a quick pit stop to Tim Horton's for a medium double, double coffee. Not to mention, the mug that was sitting in front of her with only a quarter left of black coffee with two sugars and three creams didn't do much to help the subside the situation either. But at this point in her life, the two mugs of coffee had consumed hours earlier was a much better option as opposed to her having turned to her usual 'coping mechanism'.
Having spent the last four hours tending to Elsa's needs – soothing her with kind words and rocking her to sleep while she sobbed into Meg's shoulder, and making sure that she had stayed with her so that she fell asleep – it was a miracle that Meg had instead headed towards her espresso machine as opposed to marching towards the cabinet, scavenging for a bottle of vodka.
It was in that moment that the last few months she's been here, that she remembered that she had tossed the bottles of alcohol and liquor away. It was something she knew she needed to. Something that had reminded her that she needed to make a change in her life. And getting rid of her addiction to alcohol was something that she needed to adapt to in her new lifestyle. After all, the last thing she needed was to have Elsa wake up at whatever time in the day, and find her dunk on the sofa, drinking her life away without a care in the world.
She couldn't let that happen. Refused to let that happen.
It wasn't who she was anymore. And no matter how much she was tempted, Meg couldn't let herself go down that path again. Because after having experienced the worst of the worst, she just knew that she would may never be fortunate enough to find the light at the end up of the tunnel.
She's sitting on the couch, violet pearls that were red around the edges staring blankly at the golden petals of the sun stretching ever outward into the rich blue. The sound of the waves crashing amongst the sandy bed of the shore even failed to calm her frazzled nerves. She hadn't made an effort to change out of her grey sweatpants paired with her black cropped t-shirt. Her hands balled into fists to prevent her fingers from shaking any more than they already were, her pulse beating a thousand times faster than its usual rate.
Again, courtesy of the two mugs of coffee she had consumed earlier.
But the coffee wasn't the only thing that had been keeping her awake.
Elsa had come back to her.
'But…why did she come back?'
She didn't know…but at the same time…she did know.
'But she made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with me ever again.'
She hadn't.
'So…why now?'
Without any advanced warning, there she was. Standing at the door to her apartment, looking so helpless, so frightened, so defeated. It was like one minute; Elsa had the world as her oyster – holding it in the palm of her hand. And then the next, it was like a bulldozer had come and knocked down all of her walls. Stripping her of everything and any dignity she had left, leaving her with nothing but a loss of hope and a broken future.
Truth be told, Meg mentally cursed herself for not having had the balls to tell her 'We've both moved on. You made this decision, now go and lie on it' and shut the door the in her face and move on with her life. After all, deep down in the pit of her stomach, Meg knew that Elsa deserved that sort of treatment. It was the same treatment that Elsa had given to Meg. And a woman like Elsa, at the time, had felt no ways giving off that coldness that people always perceived her to be.
Elsa deserved it. She deserved to be treated like she was nothing but a 'broken record' with no hope for a future. She deserved to be seen like a 'troubled woman' whose only hope for a future consisted of turning to drugs and alcohol for comfort. She deserved to be seen as 'damaged goods.'
Because it was exactly how she once viewed Meg.
It was exactly how she perceived her the minute things started going downhill for them.
It was exactly how Meg should've treated her the minute she knocked desperately on her door. And no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't.
It was the black eye that caused her stomach to sink down deeper. It was the swollen lip, and the numerous shades of black, blue and purple bruises scattered like a disease up and down her pale arms, a purple ring outlining the expanse of her frail neck that caused her heart to ache. It was like looking at a helpless little girl in desperate need of a mother's love that caused Meg to do the exact opposite.
Because looking at Elsa now, so broken and damaged, it was if Meg herself was looking at her own reflection in the mirror.
Broken, a lost cause, undesirable, battered.
Dirty.
Because Meg knew.
She knew what it was like to have your life stripped away from you. A life that was controlled by people who only cared about fulfilling their own selfish desires. A life where she was merely their puppet and was forced to do things that she didn't want to do.
She even knew what it was like to have someone's hand laid upon her in the most violet way possible. A man's hand striking her because she had said the wrong thing that did nothing to benefit them in the long run. A woman's hand slapping her if she was out of line for speaking without permission. To have her body used for daily boxing practices and for sexual pleasures.
Not to mention, she knew was it like to have words thrown at her to her diminish her self-confidence. Because that was life she lived. Having to walk around with long sleeve shirts and turtle necks to hide the bruises. To have woken up in bed naked with hickeys, scratches and feeling sore the next morning while his body was laying next to hers with barely any memory of what happened the night before.
She couldn't press charges. Even if she wanted to. Because after all, 'no one will believe a dirty whore.'
A 'dirty whore' was who, at the time, was a starving musician.
She knew it all, and the images of her past had provoked the vile in her stomach to begin swirling about. Which is why she knew, deep down, that no matter how much Elsa had pained her, Meg knew that she couldn't just abandon her.
Elsa needed her. She needed her more than ever.
And right now, it was the time for Meg to do so.
Instead of trying to run from her past like she had grown immune to doing, part of changing her lifestyle was to start confronting the demons of her past. Even after all those times that Elsa had closed the door on her multiple times when Meg would beg her for help, it was Meg who decided to leave the door open for Elsa.
'Now's not the time for revenge, because in the end…it will only end up hurting you.'
Heaving a heavy sigh, Meg shakes her head. Waking herself up from the atrocious images that scattered amongst her brain. She hadn't noticed the way how her bottom lip was trembling. Nor did she allow the tears that were welling up in her eyes to spill down her cheeks. Instead, she brings her hands up to her face, using the heels of her palms to wipe them away.
Now was not the time take part in the self-loathing.
She wasn't that person anymore.
Instead, she lets her bare feet drop to the soft, carpeted floor that was a cream beige color, and rises to her feet. She doesn't bother to stretch out her limbs and instead lets her feet guide her towards the room at the back.
Taking a deep breath with her hand hovering the golden handle, she grasps onto it and slowly pushes the door open. It was still dark, though it filled with shades of orange and pink reflecting through the glass window. Noting the platinum blonde hair peeking out from the covers, and the way how her body was cocooned underneath the covers, it was the softened features on Elsa's closed eyelids that caused the unexpected tension to release itself from Meg.
'Beautiful…'
She crosses her arms over her chest, leans on one foot and lets her shoulder rest against the frame of the door. Her gaze never left the woman sleeping in her bed. The woman whom she once loved, and the woman whom had broken her heart and turned her away without a single glance back. Because Elsa truly was a beautiful person, and Meg had often found her questioning what on earth she had done to have this woman come back into her life.
Instantly, her brows draw together, her face tightened.
Sure, Elsa may be back. For now.
The question was for how long would she stay for?
There's a light quiver in her stomach. Her lips purse, and she bites the inside of her cheek. Her throat bobbed with the large lump she just swallowed.
Without a second thought, Meg pushes herself off the frame and slowly grabs the handle to close the door shut. She heads towards the counter in the kitchen, noting that she had left her bag there.
Fishing through her bag with haste, she pulls out her IPhone and uses her thumb to press the button. The tiny screen comes to life, and she was relieved to find that her call history and voicemail was empty. Her fingers then tap the little 'messenger' icon and they scroll downwards until they locate the name that she desperately needed.
Hesitating, staring at the black bold letters of his name, she releases the breath that was holding and begins tapping her thumbs against the screen.
Megara Korso: Can you call me?
She hits the send blue 'send' button. Then takes a few steps backwards, her back hitting the smooth surface of the wooden cabinet behind. She closes her eyes, brings a hand to her now throbbing head.
However, it wasn't long until she felt a harsh vibration rubbing against the palm of her hand. The tension immediately releases itself from her body and relief washes over her as she eagerly opens the message.
Hercules Altonos: Of course. Is everything okay? Did you make it to the cottage safely?
Megara Korso: Yea, I did. Thanks. I just really need to talk right now.
Hercules Altonos: I'll call you right now.
It turns out that her phone call with Hercules that took a place a few days ago was exactly the medicine she needed. As always, he was patient as he let her vent about her struggles and the issues she was facing, he was very helpful as he always was, and he managed to provide her with some comforting words of wisdom and encouragement that was able to calm her down. Followed by "as long as you're safe, that's all that matters."
His usual saying that nothing but a soft melody to Meg's ears.
Sometimes, Meg wondered what a fine young man like Hercules could ever see in a 'broken record' like herself. And she would admit, that it was refreshing to, for once, have someone in her life that actually cared about her. To have someone do whatever it took to make her smile on her bad days.
Hercules was one of a kind, and Meg was grateful that she had found him.
Though the past three days have smoothed itself out for her, she couldn't exactly say the same for Elsa.
Three days had passed, and Elsa had barely come out of the room. She'd hardly eaten. Barely even smiled or showed any sort of emotion. All she had done was stay cocooned beneath the warm blankets in the bedroom, shaking like a child terrified of a clown.
And it was those past three nights that Meg had awoken in the middle of the night to whimpering and sobbing from the bedroom.
Those past three nights that were filled with those same choked out words of "p-please d-don't leave me!" and "I-I'm s-sorry!". Those past three nights that she would hold Elsa in the dark as she cradled her, rocking her back and forth while whispering "shh" or "it's okay, I'm here" while she stroked her hair and placed soft kisses on her forehead. Then she would stay until Elsa had finally calmed down and was able to fall asleep.
Meg couldn't fault her for that though.
Considering what Elsa has gone through over the past two years, recovering from such a traumatic experience always took time. Something that Meg was no stranger to.
It's now Thursday morning, and Meg is in the kitchen, frying up some bacon, pancakes and scrambled eggs on the stove. She decided on a pair of jean shorts with a white t-shirt, thankful that the air conditioning was now working. As she's finishing up frying the last piece of bacon, it was the sound of small, tentative shoeless footsteps that managed to gain her attention as she turned over her shoulder.
"You're awake." She says gently with a small, but relieved smile.
Elsa is standing by the fridge. Her arms crossed around her middle protectively, though she looked as if she was a lost puppy looking for its home. Her hair is still in its braid, though it was now hanging limp and greasy, and there's still dark circles under her eyes. It was a good thing that she finally decided to have changed out of her outfit from before. Wearing grey sweatpants and long-sleeved black shirt.
"Are you hungry?" Meg asks as she turns back to the stove. "I'm just finishing up with breakfast."
Elsa opens her mouth to speak, then close it shut. "…what time is it?"
"10:30."
"Oh…" She looks down. "…how long was I asleep for?"
"You passed out at around 7:30 last night." Meg says as she scoops the food onto two separate plates. "Then you woke up again at around 12:30."
Elsa winces at that. "…I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
She brings the two plates of food out and places them on the dining table, the two careful to avoid eye contact with one another. She pulls a chair out for Elsa, though her brows furrowed at Elsa's lack of attempt to make one single move.
"Hey," She calls out gently, though she notes how Elsa winces slightly, "come sit."
The woman heaves a heavy sigh, then shakes her head. "I…I'm not really hungry."
Meg places a hand to her hip. "Elsa," her brows merge to a frown, "you've barely eaten anything since we got here." She takes a few tentative steps towards her, and she couldn't help noticing the way how Elsa's shoulders began to shrink lower with each step she took. "You should eat something."
But Elsa says nothing. Instead, her only response was to press her lips into a tight line.
"Elsa, it's okay." She reaches out a hand to touch her – only to jerk it back when Elsa flinches away from her. "Just…come sit down and-"
"I told you I'm not hungry."
"Elsa-"
"I wanna go back and sleep."
"But Elsa-"
Meg barely has a chance to get the rest of her words out before Elsa is rushing back towards the bedroom. The door shuts with a boisterous bang and she winces at the impact. A pensive expression presents itself on her features, and Meg only turns to glance back at the two plates of food with a now solemn look.
"I'm glad you called."
Meg sighs. "Me too."
"You sounded a little desperate with your text messages." Hercules Altonos explains with his eyebrows drawing together through the screen, his voice was soft, though it was powerful through the little speaker. "I was a little worried there for a second."
"So was I." She responds with another sigh. "But talking to you is making me feel better."
He smiles, his gorgeous smile that looked like he could definitely belong on the cover of 'Canada's Next Top Male Model: Greek God Edition'. "I'm happy to hear that, Meg. You know I'm always here when you need me."
Her lips tilt into a smile. "Yea. So, how are you?"
It was a relief to know that the WiFi connection worked so perfectly in this area – though it was also a relief that Elsa was in the back sleeping. Because truth be told, if Meg couldn't have an excuse to use her Macbook Pro and be able to Skype, then there was probably a good chance that she would've either gone insane, or turn to back to her old habits to cope.
And with Hercules being the generous person he always was, he doesn't waste anytime to launch into a quick, modest explanation of this and that ("I'm doing alright, can't complain." – "How are things at the studio?" – "It's going well, though it's not the same without you there." – "I know, I kinda miss it.") They small talk for a bit. About Zeus, Hercules' father, about Meg and how proud he was of her for being able to start fresh with her new life.
If Meg was being honest with herself, she would admit whole heartedly that without a doubt, Hercules was the epitome of every young woman's 'Prince Charming who also happens to be the hottest guy on the planet'.
He was handsome no doubt.
From the depths of the brilliant blue eyes that twinkled every time he smiled, to the gentle expressions of his voice. He often wore t-shirts that showed off the sun-kissed color of his skin and that clung to every expanse of muscle he had, and he usually kept his curly orangey hair tousled. All it took was one look, and immediately, both women, and men would instantly swoon at the sight of him no matter what sexual preference they had.
Although, and as always, Hercules was straight. But that didn't stop men from hitting on him from time to time. And despite his Grecian looks, and all the advances that came his way, he was a one-woman-man who prized genuineness and thoughtful conversation above lipstick and high-heels. Something that made him stand out from the rest of the men that Meg has ever come in contact with.
And it was one of the things that made him beautiful on the inside.
However, it was when the conversation began to run dry that Meg picks at the strings on her guitar that's sitting in her lap with a troubled look.
"How are you though, Meg?"
She looks up, noting the gentle expression on his prominent features. She sucks on her lip, takes a breath. "I've…been okay, I guess."
He raises a brow. "You sure about that?"
She shrugs.
"Y'know, I can tell when something's bothering you."
A loose chuckle falls from her lips. "Is it that obvious?"
"Oh yea." He nods then laughs lightly. "You're like an open book sometimes."
"That's what I was afraid of."
"Hey, it's not a bad thing."
Another shrug. "I guess not."
There's another bout of silence that lingers far too long for both of their comfort. The only sounds to fill the empty void were the low undertones of a bass cello with an intricate piano melody accompanied by the sultry vocals of Elvis Presley sounding in the background from his side of the screen.
Dreading the heavy absence of words settling between them, she's about to apologize for disturbing him yet again, when – "Hey Aphrodite, I'm in the middle of a call. Call dad and tell him I'll be a little late getting to the studio!"
"Alright!"
Meg watches as he rises from his chair, revealing his perfectly sculpted muscles bulging from the red-tank top he's wearing that hung off his body and briefly disappears from the screen. There's a white digital Yamaha piano in the background, along with a Neumann TLM Microphone that's situated on his wooden desk where his Mac Computer sat with a pair of wireless headphones along with newest version of the Novation Circuit Synth pad to add to the picture.
After all, he was the son of Zeus.
She hears the soft click of his door closing shut, and then he appears in front of the screen yet again.
"Sorry about that." He settles himself down in his chair. "I forgot I was supposed to head down there today. Aphrodite reminded me this morning."
"Oh…well, Herc, if you have to go to the studio, then don't let me stop you." Meg says with a guilty look. "We can always talk when-"
"Ah, don't worry about it." He reassures her with a chuckle. "I'm sure they can handle things without me for a while. They'll survive."
She bites her lip. "Are you sure?"
"Meg, I wouldn't tell 'yes' if I didn't mean it, would I?"
She shakes her head.
"And besides, you're my main priority right now." He says. "My dad knows that I have to be there literally twenty-four-seven for my clients."
She sighs. "Yea, I guess have a point there."
"I shouldn't have to remind you that my clients are my priority. Which makes you my priority, right?"
She rolls her eyes, and chuckles. "Alright, Wonder boy. You've made your point loud and clear."
"Good." He smiles. "I'm glad."
Meg had to make a mental reminder to herself to thank the Gods and lucky stars that a man like Hercules and his noble father, Zeus, had both come into her life. Because really and truly, without them, it was hard to know where in her life she would've ended up.
"Alright, so talk to me." He leans a bit closer to the screen, so close that she could literally feel his hot breath on her skin. "What's been going on lately?"
She rests both of her arms on the body of her guitar. "Ah, just the same old. Nothing really new."
"I see." He nods. "How's the new song coming along?"
She heaves a heavy sigh. "Slow. Very…slooowww…"
He chuckles. "I get it. That's normal. Did you write any lyrics for it yet?"
Another sigh. "Yea."
"And…?"
She gives him a deadpanned expression. "They suck."
He laughs at this. "Come on, I'm sure they can't be that bad."
"Washing a dog, and bathing it in blue shampoo? You're telling me that that doesn't suck?"
His eyebrows raise and his go wide. His upper lip quivers upward, fighting a smile as she smirks at him through the screen. "Uh…" He blinks. "Okay…um…" He scratches the back of his neck, "…that does kinda suck…"
"Can't say I didn't warn you."
He laughs. Then she joins in laughing with him. It's all sort of old and new at once, and she has to wonder if she'll ever have to go through the motions of finding a new manager again. Because really and truly, there was no in hell that she would be willing to part from Hercules any time soon.
"But seriously though," Hercules calms down a bit from laughing, his expression going a bit serious, but with a slightly worried gaze, "you're not…actually thinking of using those lyrics in the song though…" His voice slightly raises in pitch, a bit shaky, "…right?"
She rolls her eyes, chuckles. "Not unless you want me to be the laughing stock of your record company and ruin your reputation."
He breathes out a sigh. "Okay, phew!" He makes a scene of dramatically wiping his brow. "Thank the Gods!"
She laughs at this, really laughs. Something she hadn't done in such a long time. And for the first time in a while, Meg had to ask herself when the last time was that she ever felt so at ease.
"Don't worry though, Meg." He tells her with a smile. "Like I said, it's normal. You're probably just experiencing a bit of writer's block right now."
She groans. "I hate writer's block."
"I know, it sucks." He agrees and leans back in his chair. "Unfortunately, every single singer-songwriter goes through that. But don't worry though, you'll get over it."
"I hope so." She rests her head against the palm of her hand. "I just…I just feel like I've been lacking inspiration lately."
"That's normal too. It gets the best of all of us. Right now, I think the best thing to do would be to maybe take a break from it." He says. "Don't think too much about it, otherwise you will go crazy. The best thing to do is to just about your day; do the things that bring you joy and happiness, something that will help to put your mind at ease. And then when you're ready and you feel inspired, write some stuff down. Almost like you're keeping a personal diary or something."
Yup. There was definitely no way that she was giving him up any time soon. And if it weren't for Meg's attraction to women, she would gladly would've married Hercules right then and there. No questions asked.
Though there's a short bout of silence lingering between them, they keep their gazes trained on another. Violet pearls staring straight into the fleck of his blue ones. A smile lifts at the corners of her mouth, a calming sensation filling her insides.
"You always know just what to say when I'm feeling down, Herc." She says softly. "Thank you. I needed that."
He smiles. "Eh, well, I like to make my clients happy."
'That he sure did.'
"Take some time with the lyrics. No rush, we've got plenty of time." He says as he grabs his stress ball and tosses it up in the air. "What about chords? Were you able to get any ideas for those?"
She immediately perks up. "As a matter of fact," she lifts the sling of her guitar around her neck, cradling the arm of it in her hand, "I just came up with those right before I called you."
"Really?"
"Sure did."
"That's amazing!" He eagerly perks himself back up in his chair and leans in closer to the screen. "Let's hear it!"
She smiles. "Alright Wonder boy, you asked for it."
She has to take a minute to compose herself and calm her beating heart down. Mentally reminding herself that it was just Hercules. Not millions of heads and various eyes all staring at her in the crowded stadium. Truth be told, no matter how many shows she'd done in the past, it was the thought of performing her music to strangers that she didn't know, and performing to people that she did know that often caused the heart palpitations and brief panic attacks backstage.
That had been with her old manager.
But with Hercules, things were a bit different. Though she had nerves from time to time.
Without a second thought, her fingers began fiddling the strings, gliding over each and every one in a steady rhythm. She closes her eyes, allowing herself to get lost in the sound of her guitar and she absent mindedly hums a tune. The sweet refrain of instrument often spoke to her soul, and this time, it was definitely speaking to her. Greeting her like an old friend. Her strumming sound had a hypnotic soothing quality that she craved, and it was something she hadn't heard, or felt in such a long time. It was haunting; switching from a major chord, to a minor chord, followed by a brief visitation into a secondary dominant chord, but it was something that was beautiful to the ears.
She comes to a close. When she opens her eyes, she hadn't been expecting to see an awestruck Hercules with widened eyes and smile.
She bites her lip. "…what do you think?"
He blinks once, and then another. "I think that's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."
She blushes. "You think so?"
"Meg, I don't think you realize how talented you are."
He was right. She didn't know. And sometimes, she often forgot. Allowing the fear of judgement and constant criticism to fill cloud her thoughts.
"It's funny," A dry chuckle, "Hades would never have gone for a sound like that."
His smile drops. His gaze hardens and Hercules has to resist the urge to punch a hole through the screen of his Macbook. "Forget Hades. He has no idea what true talent is."
She sighs. "I guess you're right about that."
"Meg, what Hades did to you," He begins with a saddened tone, "how he treated you…"
She swallows down a painful lump, recalling the horrid memories of her one reasoning for ending up in a drug and alcohol infested stupor.
"…It's not your fault, Meg."
Her brows pinch into a grimace and she looks down. "It feels like it is…"
"Hey, look at me."
She looks up.
"Hades is gone, okay? He's never going to hurt you, or come near you again. He's out of the picture." She swallows again, muscles tensing and her stomach churning. "You have me now. Me, my dad and Phil. You're no longer indebted to Underworld Studiosanymore. Mount Olympus Recordsis where you belong. You have us."
Which was true. Mount Olympus Records was now her new home. Had been for the past six months. And for once in her life, it was a place where she could be herself. Nothing was expected of her other than her time, her energy and her creativity. No deals had to be made, and no favors needed to be exchanged.
"What would I do without you, Herc?" Her voice cracks, though a small smile slowly reappears on her features. "You've all been…so good to me."
"It's what we stand for, Meg. Unlike Hades, we care about our clients and our artists. We want to see them go places. Not treat them likes slaves."
Fact.
"Remind me to thank your dad for buying out Hades' business." She says with a soft chuckle.
He laughs. "I have to admit; it's quite entertaining to see him without a job."
"Tell me about it." She shakes her head, then she sighs. "Karma is so sweet, isn't it?"
"One hundred percent."
They managed to share some laughs. The previous that briefly invaded Meg's thoughts had now disappeared and she was able to let loose again.
"But seriously though," He says after they both calm down, "keep doing what you're doing with that song. I love what I'm hearing so far."
"Yea?"
"Definitely."
She smiles. "Thanks, Herc."
"Any time. Fiddle around with it more and then give me another call so we can discuss lyrics together." He suggests with a smile. "Sound good?"
"Sounds good to me."
"Sweet!"
Though the offer was tempting, there was another feeling beginning to stir in her stomach. The smile from her face slowly vanishes, and she's back to biting down on her lip. 'Just tell him already!' She's about to open her mouth to speak, when-
"Yea?!" Hercules calls out
"Dad wants you there at the studio in ten minutes!" Called the feminine muffled bellowing voice from down below.
"Alright!"
A solemn look as Meg gives out a soft sigh. "Gotta go?"
"Meh, yea, I guess so." He heaves a sigh of his own as he scratches the back of his head. Then he wrinkles his brows. "You okay?"
"Y-yea, I'm fine." She laughs lightly, waving a hand dismissively. "You go ahead."
A grimace, and then a slight head shake. "Are you sure? Is there anything else on your mind?"
"No, no. It's fine." A small smile. "Go. I don't want your dad yelling at you for being late."
He blinks, though he's appears to be the least bit convinced. "Alright. Remember, I'm just a phone call away. You can always call me on my cell."
"Of course. Thanks. Now go, Wonder boy."
"Alright, I'll talk to you later?"
"Sure."
"Cool. See you, Meg."
And then her screen goes blank, with only the little blue icons on her Skype list being the main thing to occupy her screen. Suddenly, there's a feeling of uncertainty clawing at her insides, and she casts her gaze downwards.
Immediately, she regrets not being upfront with him. Because it was the main reason why she had video called him in the first place. Not about the stupid song. As she heaves a heavy sigh, she takes solemn look over her shoulder, her violet eyes never leaving the sight of the bedroom door, and immediately, her thoughts began to drift to the person who was currently occupying the bed behind the door.
'Now what do I do?'
Is it worth continuing?