Revolution of Sonder {Hades x Reader}

XII. Despair & Strippers

Hades POV
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The smell of ambrosia and stripper perfume should be sweet and addictive. I should be wanting to drink the air and drown my worries at the sights of skimpy nymphs. Instead, I order water and hardly glance at the show.

Zeus gives a hearty chuckle, intoxicated and mindless as he throws drachmas onto the stage. Dionysus isn't much better, stumbling onto the round platform stage, dancing with giggling female nymphs and a man nymph; as they twirl on golden poles.

Poseidon takes comfort in man spreading as he sinks back in the chair and whines about his wife at home, who gives him nothing.

That man knows nothin' about getting nothin'. He's frustrated, oh boy, try being tempted non-stop by a certain mermaid.

Sweat pricks my forehead, and my jaw clenches. In my hand, I swirl my drink and take a large gulp, eyeing Hermes, who is on his eighth martini, and Ares, who is leading a girl into the back.

I don't condemn the immortal morons for having levity at a party. I merely despise the gods for being irresponsible man whores who have no sense of gratitude. Why do they have the privilege of time to have fun whenever on Mount Olympus? Why do they seem to have all the luck in the world, beautiful wives, and seas of mortals that worship them 24/7? Here I am, working in the Underworld and providing balance to the cosmos without as much as a thank you. Well, some mortals thank me for taking me away from their lives; those mortals have issues and should get some help, but that is beside the point.

Scarcely finding pleasure in the performance, I turn my head away from the show; none of the girls on the stage are her. My mind wanders to think about her. (Y/N). My heart races, picturing her in my mind. She makes me feel appreciated, and when my mermaid smiles, my heart swells.

I haven't felt like this about a woman since her, Persephone.

My shoulders slump. I wish the memories of the Spring Goddess weren't disheartening to recall, but she was my first love. Sure, there were flings in the past such as Minthe, well before Minthe vanished, but I don't think anyone can replace the passion of first love. It's foolish, but the devotion one feels for their first is unique. The sensation is untouched and addicting. You only see the positive aspects in the first love, even if they are flashing red anemone flowers in your face.

Persephone's love swept me up into a cloud of euphoria. Every day we were together, and every night of passion; yet I was blind to the signals to let her go.
The spring goddess blinded me with her false promises; she ruined my reputation and has racked me with guilt for so long that the idea of love repulses me. That is until a certain siren entered my life.

How I feel for (Y/N) makes me feel enlightened. My heart swells and leaps from my chest as if I fell off mount Olympus when I'm around her. It's a different feeling than when I was with Persephone. I had planned so far ahead with my future with Persephone; our life together, our marriage children.

I sigh and rub my temples.
Maybe I forgot to live in the present with Persephone and that is why she left.
I love Persephone, and the life we could have had. That is the hard part, letting go of the life you would love to have, even if the person doesn't love you. I want to be able to say, I loved her, instead of I love her.

Then there is (Y/N).

(Y/N) is different. She is witty, spunky and has this, I don't even know what to call it, about her, but it is incredible. (Y/N). A regal vision of power and loveliness.

I don't persevere n the future with (Y/N) like I did with Persephone. Instead, I feel compelled to focus on the now with (Y/N); like I don't want to miss a single moment with her. Because when I'm around, (Y/N), every moment feels worth remembering and being in the present.