Drink
Persephone had taken to the drink since the lavish parties on Olympus as a child. Back then, of course, it was grape juice, with her mother wryly commenting that she was glad she wasn't Dionysus, god of wine and madness. A look at him splayed over a table and she had to agree.
When she grew older she drank alcohol proper, and she delighted in its sharpness and even the bitter side. Persephone was quick to remind her long-suffering mother that wine came from their grape harvest, and beer from the grains. It was their right as patronesses to indulge a little, and after a few drinks the mortals didn't mind if a sip or two went missing.
With Hades drinking was private and intimate; he gave her his finest, and she savored every drop no matter the vintage, giggling as he joined in, bourbon or whiskey on his tongue.
Now, though, it was a habit, a dirty little not-secret hiding in her flask, and Persephone wondered belatedly if she wasn't that different from old Dionysus—wine and madness and all.