No Strings Attached

CHAPTER FIVE

I collapsed on my bed, the sheets flying up as my body hit the mattress. Contrary to popular belief, my room was not completely and totally goth, and only elements of the goth aesthetic in corners.

The walls were a standard creme colour and closed me in a rectangle. A window was placed right behind my bed, black curtains sectioning off the sunlight. A painting of skull I bought online hung of the wall opposite my bed. My closet was a mess of clothes, but they all looked like shadows: dark and blending in with the dark.

The desk in my room had the most colour my entire room contained, with notebooks and textbooks of red, orange and green.

I opened the window, letting the sunlight pour in. The musty air left my room, fresh oxygen from the garden a floor down entering my lungs.

"Will Solace, huh?" I murmured. 'What a character."

"Nico!" My father called. I groaned. I stood up and cantered down the stairs, handing my arm around the railing. "I'll be going out for a few hours, okay? I need you to stay safe. Can you do that?"

I cracked a smile. "Where are you off to?"

He turned red in the face and cleared his throat. I perked up. My mind rushed through a million scenarios. Illegal money? Stealing? Was he planning an invasion to Mars?

I pushed that last one out of my mind. No, he might have been rich, but he certainly wasn't evil.

But he was dressed fancy, a classic black suit and tie, with a white shirt, the former contrasting his pale face. The shadows on his face seemed softer. He looked happy, which was strange.

"No where in particular," he mused. "Don't worry about me. You worry about dinner. There's food in the house, and I'm sure you can cook."

I hummed in acknowledgement, not really listening to what he was saying. Dinner was the last thing on my mind. He waved goodbye and gently shut the door. I ran up to the window overlooking the front of the house. He got into his sports car and drove out of our driveway.

I ran down and sprinted outside, following him, but still keeping my distance. I ran past the houses on my street, passing the gently swaying flowers, following him as he drove into the orange and blue horizon.

He turned to the same place I was before: the mall. He parked his car a good distance away, and got out of it, and I could he was swearing about the parking. I followed a few metres behind. He looked extremely out of place, everyone else in a casual top or jeans. His suit seemed to pull all the shadows toward him.

He stepped into a fancy restaurant, red furnishing the place. Music played at a low volume, and that was the only thing to be heard. I couldn't hear any footsteps, the wind from outside.

I knew I would get caught if I sat in there, so I sat instead in a cafe nearby. I pulled out my phone and zoomed in as far I could go, looking more suspicious than my father did a while ago. I was sure the barista was eyeing me from the counter, but she didn't say anything and instead resorted to wiping down the counter.

He was apprehensive. It was easy to tell. He was taping his foot against tile, constantly checking the time on his fancy watch, and grunting constantly. I swear I could see a bead of sweat.

But all that vanished when a certain figure walked in and sat opposite him.

The woman was radiant. She had a dazzling smile, and even from where I was sitting, she smelt like an assortment of flowers. She had auburn hair that fell to her shoulders, moving like her, slowly and deliberately, and freckles that reminded me of Will Solace.

"Persephone," she extended her hand to my father, who looked up in awe. He shook her hand. "But you probably already know. We're neighbours, aren't we?"

"Yes, that's right," he cleared his throat. He cracked a small smile. "I'm Hades."

Oh.

Somehow, my ultra observant self didn't realise his blushing wasn't a result of something to embarrassed of, but rather butterflies eating at his stomach lining.

The two made small talk, about anything under the sun. I learnt my father was a Sagittarius, liked Mexican food and used to be a part of the school band called the Dark Knights. The US government couldn't have waterboarded that information out of me.

I ordered some fries to not look so suspicious to everyone in the cafe. Looking at my surroundings, he wasn't the only on a date tonight.

Young couples of all kinds sat tables and held each other's hands. They stared into each other's eyes with such affection I could not understand that it almost made me want to fall in love with someone.

Then I saw it.

One young couple, two girls, grabbed each other's hand and let out a small sigh. One, in a purple and white hoodie with short dark hair giggled. The other turned into a tomato the moment she did, covering her face with her minty hair.

A small spark, so soft I could barely hear it, sizzled. The young girls gasped and stared at each other with wide eyes. Their pinky fingers met each other in the middle of the table, and a red strong, so thing and so delicate appeared between them, connecting each other. The golden eyed girl gasped and looked at the hoodie girl.

"Does this mean . . .?" The minty haired girl said.

"I think it does," the other whispered. They squealed and I swear I could see a tear fall from one of their eyes.

I turned back to my father, and it brought me back to a thought I'd thought of many years ago. My mother was his soulmate, but now, with her gone, it was as if someone cut his special string. He was left lonely and lost.

"Persephone," he sighed. "I'm not the type of person to go out and socialise or talk to anyone, really," his voice was low, and he looked so vulnerable it reminded me of my mother's funeral. "I think you might the one. My soulmate."

"Me? Your soulmate?" Persephone gazed at him, her mouth agape. He nodded.

"I've made so many mistakes, but you've always been there, when we moved from Italy, to when I almost quit my job. I think fate wants us."

Persephone took his hand. "I want us too."

The familiar sound of sparks I heard from my distance, and soon a string, the same colours as the walls of their restaurant appeared.

They're faces were a mix of shock and joy. Mine was plain horror.

It wasn't possible. My mother was his soulmate. My mother was the one fate had decided was my father's match. In no way, shape or form did Persephone fit.

The two stood up. Hand in hand, they looked like kids in love, starry-eyed, like their love was written in the stars.

I paid for my food and sprinted home before he could enter his car.