Hey! I thought this was going to be a oneshot but I really do have this whole story in my head about them and a bunch of head canons I want to write out for you guys, so I'm adding on to this. A lot of what I write won't be this depressing, and it will mostly get better from here.
Enjoy reading!
Everything here is bleak, dismal, fleeting. I feel nothing.
Moments become desperate, the days blur into themselves. One day I fear I shall not wake up from the ever-coming darkness in the corner of my room. It watches me, I know it. I stare into its' empty eyes and see absolutely nothing. It is perhaps, the nothingness that makes this so unbearable. I live within my mind now, I have no nightmares for everything my mind comes up with is saved for these terrible moments of the sobriety I find in consciousness. I stay awake now, hoping, wishing, praying, for a moment of solace from my present horrors.
It is night now-or day. It is always dark here, I am not sure. Everything is the same. From the feeling of despair and lack of hope being locked up here brings, to the looming shadows threatening to become ever closer, closer, closer….
Summer days and warmth are foreign to me now. The only way to tell the time now is when my husband knocks on my door begging me to come out. The lord of the Underworld is not known to ask things of people, yet he asks me for my company each and every day. He seems to worry about me. Me, or perhaps there is another I am not aware of. Perhaps on that terrible night I was left with more than just bad memories… No. I feel no sickness, I feel no movement.
When I was sad back at home, my mother would always tell me that my emotions were created in my mind. She said that I could choose whether or not to feel something, but I must tell her that it is not like that. She must have never felt this. Loneliness maybe, sadness perhaps, but never like this. I am so alone, and just the mere memory of my mother brings tears to my eyes. I wish to die, to stop this overcoming pain and anguish I cannot simply choose not to feel.
The world is dark, like as of what I'd choose to say. I light a fire in the hearth and watch as the flames burn higher, ever higher. I watch their dance, so graceful, yet dangerous. They do not shrink from the cold like I do. The flames relish in it. The flames make the cold like them. They do not relent to the storm, they are the storm. They burn the air and make the world vibrate. I wish to be like the flames. I wish for the flames to consume me. I want to feel them licking away at my skin, burning them all away. I wish to feel my bones becoming cool from the air and feel myself slipping away from this world. I want myself to soar free from my body. I can never leave my body, it will be with me wherever I go. And where my body goes, my thoughts follow behind me.
I yearn for the touch of the sun, the sweet caress of happiness in this harmful winter. I yearn for-
I hear a knock on the door.
Is it a knock? Or is my mind becoming numb from this ever-present hounding I feel. Now, there is no daylight to chase away the demons. Only perpetual night. A knock again, yes, it was a knock! I heard it that time, plain as day. It seemed.. Alone. Shy, almost. Cautious, I peer into the darkness one last time before making my way over to the door. I open it slowly, horribly unaware of whatever monster may lurk behind it.
Upon opening, I find my fears were only half-founded. There, beyond the darkness of the halls, stood my husband. His hair was messy and tousled, slightly damp because of the perspiration on his brow. He stood bare to me, and I saw fear in his eyes.
"Persephone," He spoke my name as if it were a prayer upon his tongue, as if I were his savior. "Persephone, I-I need you," Hades said, his voice breaking. Ever carefully he put a hand on my shoulder, as if testing whether or not I was real. He looked at me through glistening eyes, his silent plea almost reaching his lips. "May I- please. I ask for so little, and I still would, if only you would-if I were to-" he sighs shakily. "Please, may I lay with you tonight? I promise I shall ask for no more than that, I shall not even try to remove you from your room tomorrow morning! Please, let me..." He plead.
Shakily, I nodded. He smiled in relief, as if he were a dying man that had just felt hope for the first time in years. I took his hand and led him to my bed, and laid down on the other side of it. Unsure of what to do, I looked at him. He had just pulled the covers over himself and was looking at me in awe. I blushed a little at his attention and looked straight at the ceiling.
"Persephone, may I hold you?" He asks. I look at him in shock. Of course he can, of course. He is my husband after all, and in exception to that one horrible night, he had never demanded his husbandly rights. I should be glad that he only asks this of me. However, as I look at his hopeful eyes, I cannot help but realize I feel a bit of warmth as the thought of touching him. To hold him, and sleep against him may even make me...happy.
"Yes," I say in a mere whisper. Hesitantly, I move closer to him. He loses no time in enveloping me in his arms, holding me to him. His arms are hugging me, and my face is almost on top of his chest. He kisses the top of my head and tells me he loves me. I vaguely see him through the layer of darkness surrounding us, but when I nuzzled in closer to him a bit I could swear I saw the room glow a little bit brighter.
I am not unused to hugs, but here, being so close to someone in bed like this, seems new and unusual. It is only usual for me to feel this way, as I have taken no lovers in the past nor have a sibling to share a bed with. Here, against my husband's chest, I feel those moments of respite, those far few and in between moments of calmness; and for the first time ever since I got here, I feel almost warm.
