oh hey....... how y'all doing......
anyways it's the first day of spring which means hades and persephone have unfortunately parted today. i've been meaning to write something for him (and post something on here) so here you go!
p.s., if you're wondering why i'm not posting much in this book, it's because i'm writing a chaptered fic which you can find on my profile if you want ;)
also, i LOOOOOVE writing about h and persephone and i have a few more drafts of blurbs for them so i'll post them here once they're finished as well.
***
The time catches up with Hades and Persephone very quickly. Over the past few years, they've adopted a type of coping habit that can only end badly for both of them, though it starts off very well. It's called the "don't think about it" method. Don't think about the Spring or count down the days or dwell on the anxiety. Feel each other. Love each other. Why waste time in worry when you should be loving one another.
It starts off with lots of promises such as "Don't worry. We have lots of time together, my love" which comes from Harry, and "We have all the time in the world to love each other, don't we?" which comes from Persephone. It seems perfect for a month. Then two months. Three months.
At four months, Harry has to gently remind his wife that they still have time together and so much can be accomplished with just a few months left. He feels that anxiety brewing in his stomach, but he'll put on a brave face for his wife. His wife who spends a lot of her time making sure the flowers she's planting around the gardens and all the help she's offering around the palace lasts for the months that she's gone. It's not only to help the Underworld, but also to leave a lasting impression of her on her husband.
This lasts until the last few days they have together. And the facade is going well, until one night after their second round of love making, Persephone clings to her husband, her face pressed into his neck, nails digging into his skin, and she whimpers, "I don't want to leave."
Hades stills, his arms tight around her naked body twisted into the sheets. Their room is dark just like Hades prefers, but one glance around the bedroom shows Persephone's touch. Her azaleas hanging around the threshold of the room, on their nightstand, and on the walls around their paintings. He looks at the paintings as he tries to think of something to say that will ease Persephone. They're of them: in one of them, he's tenderly clasping her to his chest, in another, he's holding her face between his hands, and in the last one, she's weaving a flower crown into his hair.
He remembers when that painting was done and how he had murmured in her ear, "You seem so innocent to everyone. show them what a frightful monster you really are, darling."
She'd laughed.
Now she's not laughing. He feels hot tears on his shoulder. She begins to tremble.
"Pers," he whispers, cradling her head gently. "We said no tears."
She's not listening to him. "You're the only one. The only one who sees me."
A lump forms in his throat as she continues to cry. If she doesn't stop soon, he's also going to cry.
"You love it up there," he tries to reason with her. "I know you do. I hear about it all the time from Hermes. He says all these things about people laughing and enjoying their time outside. Says the dark is dreary and the cold is depressing so Spring only makes people want to live. You hear me, Pers? You make people want to live."
"I don't care. I don't care about any of that," she insisted, raising her head. As she does, two of her tear drops fall onto Harry's cheek. "It doesn't matter to me."
