Psyche and Eros

Tell Me

The following day, he was more silent than usual, and worked for most of the day.

Even though I know he is not upset with me in particular, he is upset nonetheless, and that is something that has grown to bother me. His feeling of being torn is something I clearly only add to...

I know someday we will have to deal with it. Whether that be years from now, or today. Who knows? Things tend to demand to be dealt with at the most inconvenient time. This only leads me to believe the worst.

When he returns, I am laying in the garden. With my eyes closed, I sense a calm shadow suddenly blocking the sun rays. Despite being invisible, he is still very much present by shadow.

"Comfortable?" He chuckles.

I sense him reaching to help me up, and somehow I smoothly accept the gesture.

Gosh, we are slowly becoming more and more in sync.

"Remarkably," I dust off the back of my dress and give him a kiss, landing it somewhere on his jawline.

"Good. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself back here. I hoped it may remind your garden back home."

It does spark some familiarity, with one stark difference. I find myself quickly looking behind me, not directly meaning to gesture to the statue of what I believe to be his mother...but yes, I am gesturing to it. 

He stays silent, but the implication of what I am suggesting is there. Still, one of each of our hands remain casually clasped while we sit with it.

Finally, I have to ask. "This is your mother, is it not?"

His hand tightens around mine as he let's out a sigh. I'm just thankful he didn't pull away. "That depends. Do you know who it is?"

"No," I confirm," I am speaking the truth! It's not done in the traditional style. She could be a number of different women. In fact, she could be a human for all I know...all I know is that she is beautiful." I look back at her for a moment. "Isn't she?" 

He hums to himself. "Alright, well...I'll trust that you are being honest. It is my mother." He says nothing in response to her beauty. 

I smile warmly in his direction. "At least she's not my competition. Though, if she were a competition, I'd clearly be losing if you made a statue of her."

He scoffs. "Do you want a statue of yourself?"

"The real question is do you?" I tease him right back, our held hands swaying playfully between us, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

"I do." He affirms, earnestly. 

The suggestion suddenly has me blushing. "Please resist the urge! I beg you. I don't think I could stand to look at it personally."

"Fine. If that's your final answer. I can't say I will not try to convince you otherwise in the future..." He brings me back to him, claiming my spare hand in his other hand. 

I close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him.  It's starting to become an intoxicating thing. A silly thing! But intoxicating all the same. "I think I may be ready for another wish," I say quietly.

"Anything." He whispers closely. 

Ah, I love the sound of that.

Still, it's difficult to come out with it.

"Come on, tell me." He teases. To my absolute surprise he tickles my left side, erupting a giggle out of me.

"Fine! Fine! I yield!" I run away playfully as he pursues me around the statue.