Thanatos
The God of death, the God everyone loathes, and yet the one everyone longs for at the end, the God they cling too, seek comfort in, the God all the others forget about and yet... Olympus itself would fall without him.
He's lonely... under...
"They can keep their ordinary love, I want to drown you in passion and devour you every night"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
• Thanatos •
I was so close to her, if I had been any closer I could have felt her soft lips against mine I could have felt the mind blowing touch of her. I really need to gather myself, I was losing myself too much around her.
What if I had actually done it? Just leaned in and closed the distant Stole a taste of her sweetness, what then? I would never be able to face her again The embarrassment would eat me alive. And I am sure Lord Hades would too.
I was nothing but the bringer of death, she was a goddess, and royalty I could never look into her gorgeous eyes again if I was so foolish to actually kiss her She would be mortified, most likely push me away in disgust and anger.
"Thanatos? Are you alright?" I heard her honey voice speak, I looked up, and realised I had stopped painting, I was just standing, lost in thought And she was sat staring at me, her little head tilted to the side, her rosy lips frowning. "Uh- yes, sorry princess" I said awkwardly, looking back at the canvas "Macaria" she mumbled quietly, laying back down.
There was a silence between us, a soft gentle silence, where I could stare at her to my hearts content and she could run around in her own head, musing through her thoughts, oblivious to how much I yearned for her as I painted her hair.
It was so hard to grasp her beauty, everything I did never seemed enough, the snowdrop strands of her hair never seemed to glow on the canvas the way they did when I looked at her And I knew her eyes would taunt me for nights The amount of times I had drew them, painted them, fantasised about them and they were never right.
She had this look in her eyes when she looked at me, I did not know what it was, but it always made something spark within me And I wanted to capture that look The way her eyes... seemed to brighten when she looked at me. What I can never figure out is why.
Why do they brighten? Why does the blue shine like an oceans crashed into her irises? "Thanatos?" She asked again, sitting up fully this time "Yes?" I asked, glancing up at her "Will you sit with me for a moment?" She asked.
My head shot up, like a bullet, and yet she sat unaffected, unwounded waiting for me sit down I slowly lowered my paintbrush, the grip agonisingly tight as I prepared to sit so close to the angel on the bed.
She must be an angel. A fallen one... cursed to the depths of hell with the likes of us Lady Persephone was pure, but she was born to marry Hades, she had a fire inside her that lured her down to the darkness But she was born in the light.
Macaria... she was born here. She was born in such a dark and cruel world and yet her heart was pure.
Her spirit was untainted. She saw the beauty in everything, even death. Even me. "I- well I just wanted to talk to you... personally" she began, inching closer to me I felt my skin erupt in goosebumps, personally?