She couldn't take it. Not another second.
The walls seemed to be closing in. The ceiling slowly inching over her head, closer and closer, threatening to trap her in forever.
No more.
Persephone bolted for the door, and didn't slow until the trees of the surrounding forest enclosed her.
Their cooling shade and the sound of her own ragged breathing finally calmed her.
One breath.
Then two.
Closing her eyes, she kneels and buries her fingers into the waiting earth.
Life...
Gaia...
Tiny green spears erupt out of the earth between the delicate fingers.
Tears drip off her cheeks into the awaiting dirt, where blossoms open on the growing plants.
Some days are harder than others.
But it seems as if most days, nowadays, are all hard.
The oppressive, confining prison that is her life. It's too much.
Her mother won't let her live, she holds on too tight. As much as Kore appreciates her love, her protection, she knows it's grown old and stale. Same as living with her.
Behind, far in the distance, the beseeching voice of Demeter drifts through the tree trucks. Wondering where her daughter has gone, wondering why she acts so over-emotional. Why can't she just be content with her lot?
Bright green eyes roll in frustration. A bronze, youthful cheek turns toward the voice, in the next instant she stands and bolts away.
She doesn't know where she'll go, what the forest will reveal. The long-standing ache in her heart cannot be tolerated any more. She knows she's destined for more than home life. She's ready for something new, someone new. She's horny and restless and aching for an adventure.
A figure moves into the path just ahead where she began sprinting. Tall and dark collides into warm and soft.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!"
Soft and warm finds herself laying on top of tall and dark, and neither seem at all sorry about the arrangement.
A small smile fights on the stranger's cold lips, but gentleman that he is, he gently moves away, reaching for her hands.
His voice is kind, and deep, "It's quite all right, may I help you up?"
She nods and small, warm hands slide into long, pale-fingered ones. The grip is gentle and cool. They stand together.
"Thank you... Sir..."
Grey eyes meet green ones in confusion.
"Do you know who I am?"
A bounty of cinnamon curls shake back and forth.
"Well, I know you. You're the daughter of Demeter."
"I am. If you know my mother, you must be a god."
"I am."
Now she is confused.
"But, I haven't seen you at any festivals."
"Not many are thrown for me."
"I haven't seen you on Olympus."
"I don't go there often."
"Well..."
The once distant voice of Demeter, still searching for her wayward child, now rings out loud and close. Exasperation shows on Persephone's face, she turns to the woods, then back to him. He never turned nor stopped from drinking in her beauty, his eyes are locked on her. He knows this is his chance to study her features up close, to commit to memory every slant and curve of her face. Her warmth and kindness, her beauty and allure are like a flame to be protected and cared for.
She speaks with slight desperation.
"Where do you usually go?"
He blinks. How could he be so lucky as to possibly have another chance to see her? Again? He thinks fast. His voice is low and quick, "I usually go to the Cthonic Meadow... In fact..." There is hesitation, "I will be there tomorrow. All day in fact."
Sparkling green eyes widen.
"All day?"
He nods pointedly, stormy eyes never leaving hers, yearning for her to understand.
"Please come," they whisper. Please be there."
He continues as sandaled feet are heard approaching.
"If you see Apollo in his chariot, I will be at the meadow."
She nods, she understands. Hard determination lines her face. Then she turns as Demeter emerges from the undergrowth, angry, tired. A litany of thorns erupt around the goddess as a storm of reprimands erupt from the matronly mouth, lectures of duty and the shame of abandonment right in the middle of a growing season. Sighs of frustration and rolled eyes to the heavens meet this rather rough welcome.
The mother grips the daughter's tanned arm and smartly pulls her back toward their home.
A delicate neck, a hopeful eye turn back, into the gathering gloom. A searching glance, for the enigmatic figure, so serious, yet so mysterious, reveals he is gone from sight. The clearing and woodland path are bare. His tall and comforting frame, his grey, slightly sorrowful eyes are burned into her mind. She will see them again. She has many questions for their owner. She will learn about him tomorrow, one way or another.
Hades never removes his eyes from her. He leans unconsciously toward her as she fades into the deepening woods. He sighs when he is alone in the twilight, standing in the middle of the path that brought her to him, that held them together for at least a moment. One wonderful moment that promised more if she'll just come. His heart aches to be near her again, to feel her warmth and light.
He was a coward, he knew, for putting on his invisibility helmet before Demeter could see. She turned to look for him, eyes jumping across the clearing in search of him, but he just stood there. Timid and useless all tied up in one gloomy package. He had pined and longed for her for too long. Wishing to find ways to speak to her was now not enough.
Now, no more. She is worth more than anxious hiding. She deserves better.
He promises himself that if she returns his love, if she for sure reciprocates his devotion, he will brave the wrath of her mother and openly declare his intentions for her daughter's hand to be his wife, if she'll have him.