Chapter 38

1.1K 42 0
                                    

Orpheus had ash blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He was slender and wore a hooded sweater on his faded jeans. He didn't look as sickly as he did before, but Persephone saw the same pain in his eyes as the first time they met.

'This song came to me thanks to my Muse, Eurydice, gods bless her soul.' He strummed the strings of his guitar and smiled at the audience. Orpheus had the most beautiful voice she had ever heard. When he sang she forgot everything else. Apollo looked at Persephone, thinking she was beautiful in her vulnerability. He knew that good music could do that. He just didn't want Orpheus to be the guy she was looking for.

He started clapping when the song was over - clearly being the only one immune to the magic, and the room soon followed. Persephone moved through the crowd to the front, Apollo followed closely behind. Orpheus and Persephone made eyecontact and Apollo didn't like the electricity between them.

'Hey', the singer said as he jumped from the small stage. Persephone smiled at him, taking his hands in hers.

'It was beautiful', she said. 'Thank you.' He hesitated and Apollo saw his chance, barging forward.

'That was great', he said, 'truly, the acoustic guitar gives it a nice touch.' Persephone hit him against the shoulder.

'Don't listen to him', she said. 'Can we - can we sit somewhere and talk?' Orpheus scratched the back of his head, looking at Persephone to Apollo and back to Persephone. Was Apollo so intimidating that he needed to think about her request? Or was it her?

'Sure.' The three of them walked to a small table in a dark corner of the café. Soft music played in the background. Several other guests patted Orpheus on the back, congratulating him on a song well sung. Bored Apollo sat at the side, eyeing both the singer and the goddess. Orpheus was visibly nervous - as he should be. Persephone was sweating it as well - she had been looking for him for so long and now she didn't even seem to know what to say. The god of music snorted, picking up Orpheus' guitar without asking. He played the strings softly and Orpheus looked at him in awe.

'That's amazing!' he exclaimed.

'Yup', Apollo answered with an arched eyebrow. 'It's one of my many talents.' He winked at Persephone who resisted kicking him in the shin. Apollo increased the speed of his play while he softly started humming. Persephone noticed a couple of mortal girls swooning and rolled her eyes, but then she read something in his waiting eyes. She smiled at him. He was buying time so she could prepare her questions. She smiled a thank you at her friend.

'Do you recognise me?' she asked after a while. Orpheus nodded shyly.

'You're the one who wanted to hear my song. You're the one who brought Summer back.' Ashamed she looked at her hands.

'I wanted to bring you to Eurydice', she said, 'I still do.' He smiled.

'It's okay. We all know the King of Souls doesn't listen to anyone.' She bit her tongue, thinking that was really unfair of Orpheus - but understanding where he came from.

'Oh good', sighed handsome Apollo, 'the boy knows what he's talking about.' This time she didn't refrain from kicking him and Apollo started laughing. He offered the guitar back to Orpheus. 'Let's write a new song.'

'I can't', Orpheus whispered, 'not without my Eurydice here. You see, she was the sole reason for my songwriting. The song that convinced Persephone to come back Up was written for her originally.' Persephone's heart broke and she grabbed his hand over the table. Apollo's jaw tightened.

'Persephone, it's midnight already.' Time to go home. Persephone nodded without averting her eyes from the mortal.

'Will I see you again?' she asked.

'Yeah, I'd like that', Orpheus said, smiling, 'I will sing at the Black Cats' Lounge in three days.' Apollo grunted.

'I will see you there', Persephone promised as she got up and slipped her arms back in the denim jacket Apollo was holding up. They said their goodbyes and Apollo followed her out.

'Do we really need to go to the Black Cats' Lounge?' he whined.

'You don't, but I do.'

The Colour Of PomegranatesWhere stories live. Discover now