by Gina Carra
Persephone pushes off the floor to walk to the wall and try it. She keeps it to herself how absolutely adorable Hades is right now.
Every day after that, or at least every time Persephone goes to sleep and wakes up, she introduces Hades to a new hobby.
They play darts, they go bowling, Persephone tries to explain karaoke but it’s difficult without a machine. Every time, Hades listens to the explanations with a very confused expression accompanied by an innate curiosity. “And…humans spend their short lives doing these pointless things…? Because…?”
“Because it’s fun.” Persephone has her face supported by her hands cutely as they sit at the table together, just talking as Hades shows Persephone her sketchbook.
Hades’s eyebrows have been permanently furrowed for days. “Humans are very odd.”
With a nod, Persephone flips the page. “And why do you sketch?”
Hades blinks. “It’s relaxing. I don’t know. It helps me make sense of things.”
The page turns and reveals another incomplete drawing of Persephone. Persephone smirks. “That’s what a hobby is. Just ‘cause it’s pointless doesn’t mean it’s useless.”
Hades stares at the art and then Persephone’s hand turning the pages. She ever so hesitantly reaches…and then aborts and pulls her hand away.
Persephone lets go of the page and turns her hand palm up on the table, an open invitation.
Hades has to almost force herself to let her hand fall into Persephone’s. She winces, but Persephone shares her heart freely once again, just like last time. “I sort of like it when you do this. I don’t know what it is. It’s fascinating.”
“Like a hobby?” Hades can’t help smirking and meets Persephone’s eyes wickedly.
“You’re annoying.”
And that’s when Hermes shows up for his fourth and final visit. “Wow, okay, um, I am definitely interrupting something but I’m under direct orders to be here so I can’t leave.”
Persephone laughs and releases Hades’s hand. “It’s all right, Hermes. We were just talking.”
Hermes meets Hades’s eye with a raised brow.
Hades looks away.
“You’re still standing,” Hermes addresses Persephone.
Persephone twirls. “I’m still standing and we’re not questioning it. We’re just glad.”
Hermes takes a breath and doesn’t comment on how many ‘we’s were spoken. “Demeter will be happy to hear that.”
Dismissing herself, Hades starts to walk away, “I’ll let you—"
“You know you could join us.” Persephone looks at Hades expectantly.
A flash of sadness contorts her expression. “Um, that’s all right. I have—”
“Errands. You said that last time.” Persephone seems determined to break Hades’s resolve.
Hades smiles, but it doesn’t touch her eyes. “I need some me time.”
Persephone watches her walk away with a frown but turns back to Hermes. “Did you at least bring checkers or something? I still have no idea how to play chess.”
Hermes happily lets the conversation change and pulls out a deck of cards.
Persephone blinks at it. “You know, they have portable gaming systems now but it’s kind of cute that you’re so old-fashioned.”
Hermes scowls at her. “Last I checked, you guys don’t have outlets here. I figured it’d be helpful for me to bring you something you didn’t have to charge.”
Persephone smiles innocently. “I guess that makes sense.” Hermes deals cards for a game and Persephone feels a pang of sadness. “What will you do next week if you don’t have to come back and visit me?”
Hermes keeps his gaze carefully down on the cards and avoids Persephone’s eyes. “What I’ve always done, work. Back to normal.”
Back to normal.
The words resound in Persephone’s mind. She thinks about going back. It’s all she’s wanted for weeks and yet—
Back to normal.
It feels like a punishment.
Equals
Hades is sitting at the table sketching when Persephone comes back from a walk.
Persephone knows Hades is aware of her moving to see what she’s working on, but Hades doesn’t move to hide anything.
Hades’s hand only hesitates for a moment before continuing. She’s sketching Eros. The style is messy, but the skill she has is clear. Persephone rests her hand on Hades’s neck. Hades flinches a bit, still getting used to the casual skin-to-skin touches, but she eventually relaxes into the calm emotions floating through Persephone’s soul.
Persephone watches for a moment before she speaks up, “Do you still love him?”
Hades hums, half her focus on her work. “It’s…like an echo of it. To say the lead arrow destroyed what I felt for him would be an understatement. I remember it, or…I try to.” She sighs, unable to explain it.
Persephone slowly moves her fingers as they lie on Hades’s neck. “Does this go both ways?”
Hades’s pencil halts. “What?”
Persephone taps her fingers on Hades’s neck. “Your ability.” Hades stays quiet. Persephone understands though. “You’ve never tried.”
Hades taps her pencil against the desk. “It’s never been…relevant.”
Persephone lets go of Hades’s neck for a second. Hades tries not to whine as Persephone disconnects from her to grab the other chair and sit beside Hades, holding her hand. “Try it.”
Hades is scared to look at her. She knows Persephone can talk her into practically anything lately, and if she looks over and sees that calm, happy expression, she’ll cave. Hades shakes her head. It’s too difficult to audibly decline so that will have to do.
Persephone squeezes her hand tighter. “If you don’t want to share, you don’t have to. I was just offering if you wanted to tr—”
“I’m scared it would work.” They both go silent for a bit and Persephone tries to understand the deeper meaning behind the words. Hades clears her throat. “I’m scared it would work and it would overwhelm you.”
Persephone stares at their connected hands. She knows Hades can feel everything she’s feeling right now. She knows she barely needs to answer to convey her opinion. She lets her eyes fall closed and digs through her mind, letting herself drown in those first few days without Autumn—the guilt of being chosen over her. The pain of being alone practically consumed her. She searches her mind for those moments of darkness. The regrets that you can never erase, the pain you inflict on others in favor of comforting yourself, but she keeps her focus on the aftermath of losing Autumn.
She remembers the humans that had been part of the trap she and Autumn were lured into. She remembers smiling when she noticed their crops were failing. She remembers smiling as their savings dwindled. She even remembers being petty and making all the flowers they picked to brighten up their home die a little more quickly than normal.
She remembers how she spent every second watching them deciding if she should kill them. She’d considered if she should kill one of them, so the other would understand what they did to her. She figured she probably should test out ending a life since they had attempted to bestow the gift of death upon her after stripping it from her sister. This was what they wanted from her right? What was stopping her?
Her thoughts start to spiral down the familiar path, but she pulls herself out of it. She blinks her eyes open to see Hades staring at her, expression blank. Hades brushes her thumb across the back of Persephone’s hand lightly.
Hades contemplates it all in the privacy of her own mind. She’s grateful that Persephone is patient with her in moments like this. There’s a trust here that she still doesn’t quite understand, and the offer to explore her ability is enticing. The lead arrow will destroy all of this again, it will destroy Hades’s chance at kindness. With self-worth the size of a seed, her eyes fall shut.
They sit like that for a few minutes and Persephone starts to think it’s not going to work…
..
.but then she feels it.
It’s slight at first, a barely there thing. Persephone quickly realizes Hades is doing it on purpose. She’s trying to ease Persephone into it.
Persephone keeps her voice soft, “It’s working. I feel it.”
Hades lets out a low, tired hum in acknowledgement. Her head is bowed, and her brow is furrowed in concentration.
Then Persephone can see Eros’s face as clearly as if he’s standing in front of her. She lets her eyes close to immerse herself in it. Her curiosity tugs at the memories that revolve around Eros but Hades squeezes her hand in warning and Persephone realizes she can hear Hades’s voice in her head, Let me lead, Seph.
And then there’s a burst of happiness.
The two friends, Eros and Hades, wandering around Earth to run errands.
Persephone can feel the smile Hades gives to Eros as she experiences the memory from Hades’s point of view. She can feel the warmth of the sun that shines on them. Hades’s thoughts are fond, but there’s no real passion there. Persephone can feel it. She can feel that Hades—well, couldn’t. She couldn’t emote easily. It was before the arrow, before her emotional range was widened exponentially.
Eros reaches out and twines his fingers with Hades’s. They don’t talk about it. Persephone can tell they never talked about it just by feeling the memory.
There’s a flash of pain and she hears Hades take a deep breath, then there’s darkness. A void of emotion.
It’s gone in a moment, back to the sunshine.
It fades into a place Persephone easily recognizes.
Eros and Hades walk hand in hand along Styx, chatting happily and trading loving looks.
Persephone can feel for the both of them.
She can feel the warmth, the trust. She can feel the arrow, how it changed Hades.
Persephone’s a little thrown at the memory of their kiss. She’s friends with Eros, kind of. Hebe used to say that Persephone didn’t hold onto friends well, but she could hold onto them for a night. Regardless, after associating Eros with Hades’s first love, it was bizarre to share Hades’s perspective as they kissed.
She can hear Hades laugh and she realizes that the connection is flowing both ways. Hades can still feel what she’s feeling.
Persephone radiates support as best she can.
It’s gone faster than a blink, but for just a moment Persephone sees Hades in bed with Eros and she lets out an indignant huff before she hears Hades’s low chuckle and the image switches. Persephone considers throwing her own memory of Eros into the mix, but she’s not sure if it would pain Hades, so she holds herself back.
Despair fills her heart as she shares Hades’s memory. Hades and Eros are back in the sunlight. Eros is weak, dying. But being back on Earth revives him slowly. They ready themselves for the lead arrow, unaware of its consequences.
The arrow hits Hades with a dull throb.
It’s not immediate. At first she thinks it didn’t work. But then, like water draining down the sink, they’re gone. All those feelings: gone. There’s no pain or discomfort, just emptiness.
There are a couple of flashes of logic-based decisions with no concept of empathy. A child, guilt, overbearing guilt, stepping in the river, pain, pain, pain, guilt, pain.
Persephone pulls her hand out of Hades’s, breathing heavy with tears falling from her eyes.
Hades wipes away a tear as well as she watches Persephone. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Persephone shakes her head, shushing as she takes long deep breaths. “It’s okay, just—just give me a moment.”
Hades watches Persephone’s brow furrow while her eyes stay closed and Hades wonders what she saw, what she felt. Did she see all of it? Or did she just feel the aftermath?
After a moment Persephone steadies herself. She blinks her eyes open and there’s something there that Hades can’t quite decipher. Persephone reaches out like she did a week ago and lets her palm fall lightly on Hades’s cheek. Hades doesn't flinch, it’s more of a shudder. She doesn’t know what to expect. Persephone’s emotions are soft but build up as they transfer to her.
Understanding.
Yet there’s something else there. Something that they now know they’ve both felt and ignored. Persephone voices it without moving her lips, knowing Hades can hear it between their minds, How much of this is the arrow?
Hades’s hand goes to Persephone’s neck, I don’t know.
They hold there for a minute, comfortable in the flow of emotion—a nonverbal conversation that eases them more than words ever could.
Persephone’s breaths become shallow. She curses lightly as she stands from the chair and throws her leg over Hades’s, straddling her in the chair. Her lips move toward Hades’s like a magnet draws her there, but she stops herself. She knows Hades is hesitant, so she hovers there—asking, accepting, waiting.
Persephone can feel Hades’s pain as she tries to make the right decision. Persephone sends her calmness and curiosity. She stops herself, the last bit of fear fading out of her, before she lets a sense of care follow.
Hades bumps their foreheads together and after a few tense seconds, Persephone feels Hades relax and it’s like a dam breaks.
Their lips meet slowly, already moving together in perfect synchronicity like they’ve been doing this all their lives.
It’s so quiet, Persephone almost doesn’t notice, but she hears Hades’s question as they kiss, This isn’t just ‘cause you think I’m hot, right?
The kiss falters a bit as Persephone laughs. “No, no—It’s not…I mean—” It’s hard for her to form words after the ease of sharing thoughts. She lets her heart sing with fondness and attraction.
Hades’s presence hums through her mind as they relax into this new, unexpected connection and it’s—Persephone hasn’t felt this complete since before she lost Autumn.
Their foreheads press together, thoughts flowing quickly, Why haven’t you withered? Why are you okay? Why are you different?
Persephone’s been asking herself the same questions. Maybe it’s because of Autumn?
Hades lets out a light breath. Maybe. She hesitates a moment. You never asked about your repressed ability.
Persephone snorts. It didn’t seem relevant. I can’t use my active ability down here so why would that one be any different?
Hades hums, considering that. There are four days until you go b—
Persephone cuts her off. Can you sense my ability?
There are no secrets here, not when they’re connected like this. Thoughts flow so quickly and it’s as overwhelming as it is exhilarating. Hades can feel every ounce of Persephone’s anxiety and reluctance to think about what happens when they go back to Earth. The only two options they have are bad ones and Persephone isn't ready. It’s too soon. She’s not ready to decide.
Hades lets Persephone distract her. If I’m very careful, I can sometimes…nudge a person’s soul…um… She doesn’t try to explain it with words. She shows Persephone an example of someone who made a deal with Hades so they could become more focused. Hades had grabbed their hand and delved into their mind and…yeah, Persephone couldn’t think of a word for it either. Just a small nudge at the right point, in the right direction. Do you want me to try to unlock it?
Persephone’s thoughts hum as she considers it. Feels like using a piece of Autumn’s soul. I don’t know…
Hades sighs, a quiet comforting pulse flowing between them. Up to you either way.
Persephone tenses as she feels Hades’s thoughts shift back to the amount of time they have left. Persephone lets go and stands up, breaking the connection.
She coughs, clearing her unused voice. “I’m…I’m going to work on that long letter for Autumn. Could—Could I leave it here? Until we go back?”
Hades could suggest they go right then. She could suggest they go tomorrow. But she knows what Persephone is asking. She wants to visit after they break apart. Hades knows that’s not possible. She knows it won’t happ
en. That’s why Persephone let go before she asked. Hades nods. “Yeah, you can leave it with me until next time.”
Stay
Persephone stands on the bridge, watching the river move slowly, idly, silently. She frowns as she watches Hades walking along the banks of the river, talking to souls. The silence feels like just another tease for Hades, one more thing that isn’t quite like it should be on Earth. It keeps her sheltered in a way…
She watches wisps of smoke drift from Hades’s palm to float along the river. She wonders what Hades is saying to them, but it feels invasive to get closer to listen.
Hades’s eyes skim over the river, focused and serious, then she melts into the shadows and vanishes. Persephone sighs, but she knows the river is long even if it is one giant circle, so she tries to keep herself busy while Hades works. It’s nice to see Hades acting as the ruler of her kingdom…she seems at peace, even if she misses the sunlight.
Persephone moves to sit at the table, playing with chess pieces lazily. It’s good for them to have some time apart, especially after sharing thoughts, but she can’t help feeling lonely and bored without Hades. The more she thinks about this new connection, the less she can put it into words. But maybe words aren’t what’s necessary right now…
Persephone is pacing between their rooms when Hades returns. Hades stares at her a moment. “I thought you’d have gone to sleep.”
Persephone stops pacing, watching Hades carefully. “I was waiting for you.” Arousal radiates off her.
Hades lips curve down and she can see Persephone’s hurt in response to it. “I—” She tries to find words to tell Persephone why they can’t be intimate, but she and Persephone are so much more than words now. “You know why.”
Persephone glares at her, stubborn and impatient. “I do. But I don’t care.”
Hades reacts to the venom in her voice. “And what if this is all the arrow? What if we sleep together and it doesn’t actually mean anything?” Hades laughs at herself bitterly. “Well, I guess that wouldn’t matter to you. You’ve wanted to sleep with me since you got here, feelings or not.”