A Bloom So Deadly: Hades and Persephone Retold

The Fractures

Persephone stretched as she woke, letting out a little groan of pleasure, eyes still closed.

"You sleep like the dead," came a voice. Her eyes shot open and she bolted upright, scanning the room to find the source of the voice. "At least, I hear that's a mortal saying."

She looked down at herself, then her plush surroundings, then back to the Dread King sitting at his desk, eyes growing wide. "I am...in your bed," she said slowly.

He gave her a tight smile and turned back to writing something at his desk. "It is not so dastardly as you make it sound. I have worked through the night and you were cold as ice, I wanted you near the fire."

Persephone's dark eyes trailed over to the fire, still going in the hearth. "Oh," was all she managed to say. Though his back was to her, she still tucked her head down, heat creeping across her face.

Mother would kill her, surely.

Nearly two centuries with Ares and she'd never once been allowed to sleep in the same room. And here she was, not even two months into her time in the Underworld, waking in the Dread King's bed.

She scolded herself. It meant nothing to him, she meant nothing to him. But she thought of his curved finger, lifting her chin to look at him. Someone tried to steal you. We cannot have that now, can we?

A fevered chill ran through her, recalling his words. And just like that, all the walls she had built up, all the self scolding that he thought nothing of her, came crumbling down.

What

was

that

about?

And then, of course, her mind went to the next thing, almost violent and greedy in her swiftness to examine her memories: the Dread King cutting down through the water, his pale hair billowing out around him. Then he had looked at her and she had not been wary of the pulsing inside her that called out to him. She had not been wary when his thumb trailed across her cheek, when she pressed her face into his palm.

The only thing keeping her from dying right then of absolute humiliation was knowing he had also been out of his mind from the Lethe. Perhaps they would just never acknowledge it, just let it stay a silent thing between them just as their bonded powers were.

But...perhaps they would acknowledge it. Oh, she already knew she was setting herself up to be embarrassed and disappointed again, but what if it did mean something? He had called after her when she ran, appeared before her, whisked her away to the warmth. Just thinking it, her face heated. And then his fingers were under her chin, lifting her face, and she repeated the entire cycle again in her mind.

Persephone peeked over at King Hades, who seemed content writing in a small book, paying her no mind. She curled onto her side facing him, letting her head find his pillow once more. And she just stared at the back of his head, at the straight lines of his shoulders as he worked, a frustrated blush resting on her face.

This was stupid. She was being stupid. She knew better than to let a few words and a hand on her face sway her, but she could not help it.

"You are staring at me," he said, hand still scribbling into the blank pages of the book before him. He did not bother to look up.

Persephone's face heated as she stiffened, eyes wide. So he could feel when she had her eyes on him, just as she could feel his gaze on her. Gods, how embarrassing.

"What are you writing?" she said, forcing a haughty note into her tone to cover her surprise and embarrassment.

At that, King Hades did stop and looked over his shoulder at her. "I keep record of my personal thoughts," he said. "It has been most beneficial over the years. Have you ever considered it?"