Psyche and Eros

Tip-toes

The evening came quick as we talked for hours. Longer than I ever imagined speaking with my sister's again. Eventually, the topics strayed from our husband's to old childhood tales, and criticism of our parents. 

"Mother still keeps herself cooped up in that palace and is pale as porcelain. Barely even sits in the back garden anymore. If I ever want to see her I have to go home. She never visits! And when I go, father is never there. I worry he may be engaging in an affair." Cora rants. 

"Father would never." I snort. "He's not nearly interesting enough. He has plenty of other business and card games to keep him occupied." 

Alia shrugs skeptically and offers no opinion. She secretly agrees with one of us but enjoys being the neutral party whenever she can. 

"You don't think your husband would-" Cora starts. 

"No! Stop it!" Alia laughs it off. "Not anymore than your own husband would. Leave the subject alone already."

I am turning red. From defensive fury, not embarrassment.

"Well, we all know how promiscuous Gods and Goddesses are, and how his mother is. As a matter of fact, your husband himself is the product of an affair. Did you know that?" Cora smirks. 

Alia gives me a considerate glance. "So they say. There are many tales with different versions. Word of mouth can only be so trustworthy." 

"Oh, he is," I mutter, forcing myself to calm, "at least from what I have gathered, it must be true. His father is Ares, as it turns out. Certainly not Hephaestus."

Cora hums in amusement. "On the plus side, that definitely means something. He is not only gorgeous to look upon, but a fierce protector. He has it in him." 

An interesting thought. "I have only been hidden to avoid any violence...but I wonder what would happen if it came down to it." 

"He wouldn't ever allow anything to happen to you. Not unless..." Alia didn't predict how to end her own sentence, but I hear her loud and clear. 

Unless it comes down to myself or his mother. 

"Once he knows that you are with his child, there could be nothing or no one that could take priority over you." Alia said. As an attempt to redeem herself, she sets her hand on mine. 

I feel nervous, but reassured enough. Although, I can see Cora physically biting her tongue from spouting any more uncertainties and doubts. 

One thing I am certain of, is that Eros does not has any interest in harming our baby. This is no ridiculous tale of stealing thrones from one another up high in the sky. He is a man of love. Truly, within and out. I only wish I express that meaningfully to Alia and Cora in a  way that they could understand. 

Perhaps, they would understand if they were in love. But, they aren't. I'm not sure they are capable of it to the same capacity. 

"Still, there is a jarring separation between the two of you that needs to be sorted out. Immediately. It's ridiculous for it to go on this long. You were clever enough to dig out the truth whether or not he wants to admit it. He needs to stand up for you and protect you for this madness to end," Cora said. Even with the snip in her voice, I could feel the emotion from her. 

"We miss our sister and the life that she was supposed to have." 

The words cut through me. 

*          *           *           *

I delayed going to bed for as long as I could. Eventually I could barely keep my eyes open. 

I knew my husband was home, waiting patiently upstairs for me in the dark, as per our usual routine. 

I am to crawl under the covers and hold him, and only then, would he fall asleep.

I wrap a sweater around me and make sure my sister's are comfortable in their beds before I crept up the stairs, finding my way by a flickering candlelight. 

The upper level was utterly silent - a concerning level of silence that could only mean he was upset. I suppose I could have spent less time with them tonight. There is always tomorrow morning before they are on their way.

Guilt wafted over me. Suddenly, the thought of curling up with my husband seemed more appealing than anything else. This whole visit has been exhausting for both of us. I never knew how much I could miss the simplicity of it being just the two of us. 

When I entered our room, I expected his voice greeting me.

Instead, I heard his soft breathing. A clear indication that he was sleeping - which was unusual.

I paused in the doorway, listening for any other evidence. He must have fallen into a deep slumber, too tired of waiting for me to stay up.

My heart started pounding as I took a step forward, into a room of complete darkness. All the curtains were drawn to stop the moon from shining through the window. All that remained was my candle, flickering and dancing warmly in front of my face.

I felt emotion rush over me as I stepped closer. I know I should stop, but when I start to see the bed I can't bring myself to.

The first thing I see of my husband is his leg, peeping out the side of the covers, lazily hanging off the edge.

Even that alone is gorgeous.

My heart is close to erupting out of my chest. I know better. I know what he would want me to do.

Turn around.

Even while shaking, one foot lands in front of the other, until the I am standing bedside. Shadows cast around the room. I assess his lack of movement every second as I come closer.

His chest and abdomen peeps over the edge of the blanket. A soft wisp of blonde hairs prove my previous imagining of him correct.

Even more so, every part of him is as human as can be. Beautiful, but humanly familiar. No monster at all. 

I wish with all my might that I could touch him, but that's a risk I am not willing to take. Not while everything is on the line-

I raise the candle, my breath moving the flame as I hold it close to my mouth. I lean down, finally catching sight of his entire body and face.

Peaceful. Asleep.

The tales barely do him justice. He truly is the son of the Goddess of Beauty. Not a speck of imperfection.

I shouldn't be shocked, nor pleasantly surprised - but I am.

I am so, utterly fortunate to hold the affection of someone-

My hand wobbles as my bare foot tugs and steps on the edge of the blanket around me. Even the slight readjustment is enough to spill over a tear drop of wax.

Landing right on his chest.

Then even more, as I attempted to over correct my dire mistake.