Be there for Persephone…  

After everything she had done to Hades, he was firmly on the side that she deserved the isolation. Maybe she would finally understand what Hades went through. Each of the gods that resided in the Underworld had been shunned by the Golden Gods or had simply gotten tired of their elitist bullshit. None endured the isolation Hades had. None of the Golden Gods would admit they’d shunned him. 

Hypnos had loved Hades for a long time. It happened after the death of Pasithea, his wife and only true love. Her death, while not unexpected, had broken something inside of him that he was unsure would ever mend. He watched her wither away as the Wasting Disease claimed her. With no other way to cope, he’d fallen into the deepest recesses of Slumber, unable to wake. Her death played on repeat in the personal hell he’d created for himself.  

Hades followed him into that dark pit, enduring his own kind of torturous hell, and pulled Hypnos from his sorrow. It wasn’t gone; it never would be. Hades knew that and didn’t judge him or tell him that everything would be okay. It was that fact that left him falling for the god. He’d never wanted a relationship. Had always been content to simply be there. When Persephone was being a spoiled brat, he watched. The favor Hades asked of him might be more than he could handle.  

Standing outside of her chamber, he could feel the exhaustion creeping over him. He could find a different way to handle this. Surely, he could. As he moved to turn away from the door, it opened. 

She’d been crying, that much he could tell. Her eyes were rimmed red, and streaks of gold-tinted tears made a path down her cheeks. She was why humans made art in the gods’ images. Even disheveled, she was stunning and radiated the golden glow that only the Olympic gods had. It was a shame her personality was horrible.   

“What do you want, Hypnos?” she snapped, dabbing at her lash line with a cloth and sniffling dramatically.  

“I came to check on you,” he replied, not bothering to cover his exhausted tone. It would seem like he was trying too hard if he did. “I won’t apologize for what I said earlier.”   

“So, you’re just here to gloat that he’s finally pushed me aside?” She moved to shut the door in his face, but he glided over her shoulder before she could. “You are infuriating!”  

He floated over her head, watching her as he passed. “You either accept the olive branch I am offering, or you spend the next six months isolated. No one deserves to be alone, Persephone, not even you.”   

She stamped her foot but didn’t tell him to leave. Instead, she walked further into her chambers. He followed idly, floating as he always did. The short hallway opened into her lavish living room. A row of enchanted windows lined one side, casting the room in soft sunlight. A large desk sat before the furthest window, and everything was neatly placed. In the center of the room, a plush couch faced the largest TV he’d ever seen. Some reality TV show was playing with the sound muted. An archway opened to a homey kitchen. It was fashioned after an old cottage. Two other doors led to her bedroom and the bathroom, though both were shut. She dropped onto the couch, huffing a frustrated sigh, and unmuted the show.  

“I hope you like chick flicks and terrible reality TV,” she said without looking to see if he’d followed.   

He glided over to the couch, settling on the opposite side. The guy onscreen had done something to upset the pretty brunette, and she was screaming at him. Persephone was engrossed in the drama, and he tried not to roll his eyes. Within minutes, his exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he fell asleep just as the couple started kissing.  

***   

The room was quiet when he woke. The TV screen was black, and the sunlight shifted to late afternoon, bathing the room in soft shadows. Hypnos sat up and noticed that Persephone had moved to her desk. She had fallen asleep there, her head resting on one arm. The enchanted window that the desk sat before cast soft sunlight over her features, and he frowned. When she was asleep, her face was soft, pretty. If he could choose, this would be the version of her he saw in his dreams.  

Beneath her was a sketch of him, sleeping on the couch. His features were also relaxed. His hands were tucked beneath his head, strands of hair fallen over his face. The sketch was phenomenally done, and he was shocked that she had such a talent. Pasithea had been a master at watercoloring.  She said it calmed her mind like a sort of meditation.   

He reached out to brush some of her hair from her face, his fingers skimming over the softness of her cheek. She stirred, reaching up to rub the sleep from her eyes before she sat up. She blinked at him a few times before her cheeks pinkened.  

“It’s not what you think!” she exclaimed, slamming her hand over the sketch. “I haven’t been compelled to sketch since my mother’s cottage. You were sleeping so peacefully and…” She trailed off when she caught sight of his smirk.   

“It’s been a long time since I was anyone’s muse,” he taunted, and she swatted at him. The pink on her cheeks let him know she wasn’t mad, just embarrassed, and that brought a smile to his lips. “With a talent like that, you can sketch me whenever you want. If you’d drawn like I do, then we’d have problems.”   

“Are you done teasing me?” She snapped the sketchpad closed and stood from her seat. “You fell asleep, and I got bored with Romance Casino. Next time, I will draw you like the gremlin you are!”   

If she kept up with this side of her, Hypnos figured he could handle her presence for the next six months. This side was genuine. It surprised him. 

“Why is he acting like this?” she asked, smoothing her fingers over the cover of the well-loved sketchbook.   

Pursing his lips, he shrugged. “Why do you care?”   

She lifted her eyes to his and narrowed them. “I don’t care. He has always done what he wanted, never talking to me about it.”   

“You’re hopeless, Persephone. You know that, right?” Anger simmered beneath his skin, and he remembered exactly why he’d never gotten to know her. “When would he have spoken to you? You have been shutting him out since you got stuck here. Did you ever let him explain his side?” 

By the stunned look on her face, he knew she hadn’t. He was there the day she was called back to the Underworld. Despite common belief, her curse hadn’t been instantaneous. She returned to her mother after eating the pomegranate seeds, not knowing what was coming. Six months later, the portal appeared, and she’d been ripped away from the Upperworld.   

When Hades realized what happened, he tried to explain. Persephone was too busy trying to swim the River Acheron back home. It took Nyx, Hypnos’ mother, to coax her out of the freezing waters. They disappeared to Nyx’s office, leaving Hades and Hypnos on the shore. Hades created Persephone’s chambers, including the garden, while she was with Hypnos’ mother.   

“If he had warned me about eating the seeds, he wouldn’t have needed to explain,” she screamed, stamping her foot. “You cannot tell me he didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t try to stop me, and he didn’t explain what it meant afterwards!”  

Hypnos shook his head, lacking the energy it would take to explain how wrong she was. “If we’re going to get along, we need ground rules,” he said instead of arguing. “We can watch your reality TV, you can draw, and we can try to be friends. But we won’t be discussing Hades. He might have pushed you away, Persephone, but he still cares about you. If he didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”   

“He sent you to babysit me?” She scrunched up her nose and spun away from him. “I didn’t ask him to assign me ‘friends’. I just want to go home.”   

“We all want you to go home,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. “He would free you if he could. When curses are involved, The Fates have final say, and you know it.”   

She went quiet, not bothering to turn back to him. Moments later, she tilted her head to look at the ceiling, a breathy sigh leaving her as she did. She ran her fingers over the sketchpad again, a calming mechanism he wasn’t sure she realized she was doing. There were hundreds of sketches in that book, given how worn the pages were, charcoal staining the edges.   

“Fine. We won’t talk about Hades,” she agreed, still not looking at him. “Will you come watch another episode of Romance Casino tomorrow?”   

“Yeah. I’ll be here,” he nodded and then dematerialized. He reformed outside his chambers across the Underworld.  

He took a steadying breath as he placed his hand on his door. The next six months were going to be the longest he’d ever endured, especially if she kept the attitude. Though the cute side he caught a glimpse of was equally as dangerous. Hades was going to owe him for this.   

Going to Slumber tonight was going to be hard when her dreamscape began to call him. Highly emotional dreams were hard to ignore because they fed his power. And Slumber made it nearly impossible to lie, which meant what she claimed in the Waking World was subject to scrutiny. That’s why he goaded her so much. She was hiding something massive, something he couldn’t interfere with. All he could do was watch the train continue its deadly path.  

A lot of people were going to get hurt by the end of this.  

Editor: Shannon Hensley