The Prey of Truth

Chainsmoking and Violins

For the past week, Dianthus had been a wreck, to say the least. The distraught male had been couped up inside the apartment, seeing no reason and having no motivation to go outside. The three fundamental meals of the day seemed to merge into a singular meal, where Dianthus ate whatever he could find in the fridge that didn't require to be made. When he wasn't eating, he was smoking on the sofa, sleeping in Atticus' bed, or playing the violin.

Dianthus had always loved playing the violin, except he had not done so in a while. All angels were born with the gift to know how to play violins and pianos. Dianthus inherited the ability to play the violin, though, unfortunately, not the piano.

Finally, Hades had been sending him letters, asking him of his condition and wondering what he had been up to. Persephone had also visited three days ago and listened to him play the violin, asked him a few questions about how he'd been doing, and then left him a small basket of freshly baked goods. He was grateful for their actions and support, but there was only one person he wanted to see: Atticus.

He sighed as he pulled out another cigarette, lighting it before turning back to the sheet music. He knew that he should stop smoking and pick himself up before he fell further into his state of depression, but he no longer cared. He had just picked up his violin when he heard a knock at the door.

Dianthus had expected to greet Persephone, but instead, Hades was standing there.

"Hello, Dianthus," he said, smiling slightly. "How are you feeling?".

Hades was answered by looking at the state of the apartment. It was nearly completely dark the blinds were closed over the windows and no lights had been turned on. The place wasn't a mess, but it was getting there. The dishes had started to pile up and a pile of towels had begun to form to the side of the room.

Dianthus walked over to the sofa, and slumped down, tilting his head to rest on the back of the sofa, mimicking a puppet whose strings had been cut. Hades sat next to him, as the male made no attempt to talk.

"Are you going to come back to work any time soon?" Hades asked, trying to change the subject to anything but the situation at hand.

Dianthus shook his head, closing his eyes.

"Are you getting enough to eat and drink?" Hades asked considerately.

"Yes," Dianthus replied vacantly.

"That's good," Hades said. "Can you play some violin for me?".

Dianthus stood up, collecting his violin, and straightened the sheet music, before resting his bow on the strings. Softly exhaling, he began playing. The apartment immediately filled with the rich sound of music, the notes combining to form a sorrowful melody. Dianthus' raw emotions flowed through the song, each note overflowing with a spellbinding combination of grief, warmth, and kind heartedness. It wasn't the fact that Dianthus was good at playing the violin, or that he had inherited the talent: he had made it his own.

Dianthus drew his bow across the violin strings one final time, before letting his arm go limp on his side. Hades smiled, applauding his quietly, as Dianthus gave him a small smile in return.

"You should play more often," Hades commented, as Dianthus sat back down on the sofa.

"Maybe I will," Dianthus mused, as he took out another cigarette from his pocket.

"No more of those," Hades said, taking it from Dianthus and causing it to disappear from sight in his hand.

Dianthus made a disapproving noise as Hades held out his hand, signalling him to hand the rest of the packet over. The male obligated bitterly, and Hades muttered a thank you.

The god stood up from the sofa, making his way to the exit.

"Try to eat proper meals, and no more smoking. I'll come to check up on you in a few days, and I'll send Persephone over again." Hades said, closing the door of the apartment.

Dianthus absently said a goodbye and went to get a snack to fulfill his non-existent appetite. Changing into pyjamas, he walked to Atticus' old room, collapsing onto the unmade bed. He could still faintly pick up Atticus' sent, as he hugged the pillow, clinging tightly to it.

The male let his thoughts wonder, as he let heart-wrenching sobs overcome him. Eventually, Dianthus fell asleep, seeking refuge from this nightmare in the dreamscape.