Aphrodite's Flame

47.

The cabin in the woods looks as idyllic as in my memory. 

I left Hephaestus before sunrise. I didn't want to wake him, I didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes. I also didn't want to leave room for him to surprise me, so as soon as he fell asleep I got up. 

I'm not sure what the white colour of my flame means - I don't even know if he knows. He was pretty evasive when it came down to answering my many questions - but he also seemed to be baffled. He told me he had never seen a white flame. I don't know what that means - but I think I know what the white is. What the sparks are. And I think, deep down, he knows too.

I'm wearing the necklace Hephaestus made for me, as well as the proud smile only a loving wife can wear when she thinks of her husband. I take a deep breath, realising a couple of months isn't that long - yet it is.

I race through the woods in my swan-driven carriage, surprised that I'm still looking forward to seeing my Adonis. I'm a bit early, so I sweep and dust like a little mortal housewife. Well, for two minutes at least - then I get bored. No, dusting and sweeping have never been written in the stars for me. Even if given the choice, I would never choose a life as short and bland as a mortal's. 

I sit down on the steps in front of the cottage and take a deep breath. The woods smell differently. Less sulfur, less smoke and fire. More wet grass and fresh pine. Had anyone asked me a year ago which smell I preferred, I wouldn't even hesitate. Now I would say I love both equally. One is safety, the other is freedom. Both are love.

'You're here.' Relief. Did sweet Adonis think I would ever break my promise to him? Did he think I would leave him on his own, wandering the planet he should have left indefinitely? Will the guilt I feel ever subside or will it creep up on me every time I'm with him? Is this my punishment for wishing a man back from Death? 

As I get up and make my way over to him, he holds out his arms. I accept his warm embrace and remember the love I once felt for him. I still love him in a way. He still makes me feel warm, whole and appreciated. It's just not the same as with Hephaestus. For a second I expect the God of Fire to turn up and pick a fight with my mortal beau - but he won't. He won't, because he's not Ares. He accepts the fact that I have to do this, and he still loves me.

'I missed you,' I tell him, smiling. He kisses me in the crook of my neck before releasing me. 

'How lovely it is to be Up again,' he sighs. 'Don't get me wrong - Below is fun too, but Up is different.' I hear him. He studies me closely and I avert my gaze.

'Let's go for a swim,' I say, pulling him with me, not interested in being dissected like that.

'No, no no no,' he laughs. 'What is the matter, Aphrodite? What's wrong?' He holds my hands.

'Why do you think something is wrong?' I say, while I keep pulling him with me toward the lake.

He tilts his head to the side. 'You may think I don't know you well, but I know you well enough.'

'I don't want to talk about it. You just came back.' Reluctantly, he follows me, willing to drop the subject for now. 

***

That night Adonis and I sit by the camp fire. I relax against his lean body, seeking his warmth and comfort.

'Did something happen when I was away?' he asks softly, his thumb gently grazing my arm.

I got married. I fell in love.

'Nothing happened. Just... divine affairs.' It feels unnecessary to tell him about Hephaestus. He has another seventeen terms before his time is up. I don't want to hurt him.

'Hey, can I tell you something?' I offer.

'Of course!' he says eagerly. He thinks I'm going to tell him what's on my mind. Well - maybe it isn't the main course, but there is something I have been thinking about.

'Did you know some of us can see your soul?' I look up at him in earnest. He seems a bit taken aback.

'It's like a little flame. Sometimes they're small, nothing more than a spark, sometimes they're huge, like this fire. They burn differently, all of them.' Adonis remains quiet.

'Have you ever seen a white fire? I guess not - it would have destroyed you. Those white lights - sparkly little orbs - only appear when someone finds their soulmate and only when they're with them. It's a beautiful thing to behold and not many get to see them.' I don't think Hephaestus knows this, but I do. I felt it.

'The souls of mortals are different to those of gods,' I continue. 'Gods have a flame, huge and arrogant, obviously able to swallow worlds. Mortals usually have smaller flames, strong enough to burn your fingers, but rarely bright enough to light a room.' I don't tell him his soul is no more than glowing embers since he died. His light is gone. But I remember his soul from when he was alive. It was alike to Orpheus' and to baby Herakles'. Paris and Achilles had a flame like that as well. The kind humanity would sing songs about over a thousand years still.

'Your soul is different. It can set a forest aflame. You were destined for greatness and I kept that from you. I am sorry.' He pulls me closer.

'I think I've done a lot of what I wanted to do during my life.'

I sputter indignantly. 'You have done nothing at all. You lived for six months and spent them all in my bed.'

'If I had the choice I would spend all my life in your bed,' he chuckles. I elbow him playfully and he lets himself fall back, pulling me down with him.

He flips me on my back easily, pushing my legs apart with his left leg as he bows down to kiss me. Any reserve I felt leaves my body as I cup his face with my hands and kiss him back, allowing him to desperately search my body with his hands. His lips are soft and warm, his tongue eager and sweet.

A groan escapes from deep within his throat and I can feel his longing. Hastily I pull his shirt over his head, leaving Love to take care of whatever I promised.

***

'What does love feel like to you?' I ask. I sure am chatty tonight. We are sitting outside the cabin still, a blanket wrapped around both our naked bodies. He turns his head toward me, leaning his chin on my head after kissing my hair.

'It feels light, and harmonious, exciting and a little scary.'

'Scary?'

'You're the only person I would want to lose myself to - but also the only one able to break me.' I sigh.

'That is terrible.'

'Is love so differently to a god then?'

'We don't really give ourselves away, I guess. It is always some sort of power play. One dominates the other. Love trumps War, Strategy trumps Chaos. Love does not love War, nor does War love Love.'

'But you are more than your divinity. You are Love but you are also Aphrodite.' I scoff. He doesn't realise I can turn either off. There's still a lot he doesn't know. Aphrodite loved Adonis when he was alive, but Love brought him back and Love is with him now. 

Because Aphrodite gave her heart to another.

'I have been Love for so long, I hardly know who Aphrodite is anymore,' I mumble.

'Well, I know her. She is thoughtful, kind and forgiving. She is beautiful and a little dangerous. She can be impulsive and exciting, but also calm. I like Aphrodite. I love her.' I look up at him, my eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips, knowing full well he didn't describe my person. Everything he just said was Love. He doesn't know Aphrodite. Because she is insecure, easily angered, impatient and at occasion manipulative. Love is never insecure or angry or impatient or insincere. 

But I am. 

And he doesn't know that. Because he doesn't know Aphrodite anymore.

Love and lies. Well.