Warning! Huge block of text below ^_^
H3H3
Persephone wanted her husband to be angry with her. She wanted him to suffer from everything he did. She wanted him to feel the pain of being with her. She did not want him to ignore her and go on with his life.
It was the worst punishment he could give her, the punishment of being forgotten.
At least, I hope she feels a bit sad without me. It pains me to think of her hurting. Souls have not been judged as quickly as usual. It is not my job to judge them of course, I have people for that. It's just that those people suck. Really, they almost put a woman in Tartarus for running away from her abusive husband with her two children. I let her go to Elysium, and her kids were reborn into another body. I can only hope they are with good company now. Unlike me, my company now is the visions of my wife alone and crying. I imagine tears running down her cheeks, her eyes getting red and puffy, and curling up in the place where I once lay, hoping to press herself down to the sheets that once held my smell. Probably still does, really.
But deep down I know she isn't. I know she is happy that I am not there, I know she is probably reveling in all the attention I'm not giving her right now. I know she's laying on her bed, or perhaps that pile of blankets and pillows on the floor she likes to curl up in, being soooo happy her adoring husband is leaving her alone.
I slump down in my throne a little more and rest my chin on my hand. The Underworld has been a bit busy lately, and I expect it is Demeter throwing another hissy fit at the loss of her Child. Ugh.
I do not regret taking Persephone as my wife, even though she has to live down here with me in the Underworld. It could be worse, I suppose. She could be in Tartarus… Actually, I can only hope she is still in her room, there's a lot of dangerous things down here, and right now she has no idea how to take control of anything she may encounter...
I close my eyes and try to concentrate on pinpointing her in the Underworld. I've been trying to give her space, and I've been told my locating trick is a bit invasive on the mind. I can also read their emotions when I focus really hard, but that is much harder and I can usually tell by looking at them what they are feeling. Granted, it's usually terror. I am kind of creepy, after all.
I exhale in relief as I sense her still in her bedroom. It's been awhile since I last saw her, and it is killing me. If gods could die I would have said I'd died a long time ago by just being in the Underworld all the time, but picturing my beloved with tears in her eyes just because she is here, the thought that she is going through the same thing I had when I first came here, will be my undoing.
I get up hastily and walk out of the throne room. It's been days since we had our fight, and I cannot put if off any longer-I must apologize. I walk towards her chambers, where I know she is. I know I know I know where she is. She is here-with me. And for the first time in a long while, I l almost feel content with her mere presence in the Underworld. She is like my own little lantern, a light in the night. And although the circumstances are not ideal, she brings light to my frightful existence. I am awfully selfish to keep her here, I know. It could of course be my imagination-a certain amount of bias will do that to you-but she seems like she belongs here. Not only is she full of life, but another thing too. She never seemed to fit in with the world where she was. That isn't to say that she fits in here, either, of course. Just that she has a lot to grow into here.
I stop when I find myself nose to nose with her door. Closed, of course. I take a few steps back and breathe in and out a few times before knocking. I hear a rustle of blankets and then a few pats of her feet as she walks over to the door. She opens it slightly, and I catch a glimpse of her head and body as it open just enough to let us talk. Her complexion is very pale-much like the time I kidnapped her, I note, slightly alarmed- except for her eyes, which are red and puffy. I feel my heart tug painfully at my chest when I think of her crying.
"Yes?" She asks, annoyed by my stare. I swallow nervously.
"I have come to apologize." I tell her, trying to maintain a steady tone."May I please come in?" I ask. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head no. I sigh slightly. She steps out in the hallway and closes the door behind her.
"Persephone," I start. "My actions were terribly rude. What I have done to you is unforgivable. It is against every rule that I have to do those things to you without your consent. No one should ever have to marry someone against their will, or go to a completely new land when they don't want to. And yet, I am not sorry for taking you. I am not sorry because I love you and you are the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire miserable existence. I have taken you from your home and forced you into this one, and I have forced you into a horrible state of depression in which I knew would happen. I knew this, and yet I took you anyway. So yes, I am sorry. I am sorry for yelling at you, for getting angry at you, my one true love, and those slightly suggestive comments which may or may not insinuate things that you do not feel ready for. I am not sorry for taking you, but I am sorry for letting you sink deeper and deeper into this depression without forcing you out of it. Trust me, I have been in this state before, and I will get you out of it." I said. She looked at me in slight shock. I looked at her in love and got down on my knees. I reached out and took her hand and kissed it. Her lips parted slightly, and I looked up at her in a pleading manner. "My dear, will you ever forgive me?" I ask in a sorrowful tone. Her mouth opens and closes a bit in shock before she steps away from me and slams the door. I stand up again and sigh.
Sometimes I wonder if she'll ever love me.
