Greek Tragedy

EP 01 | DARLING PERSEPHONE

EPISODE ONE

'darling persephone'

"I really think he's a Michelin critic."

I snorted, drunk on being full but unable to stop myself as I continued to take another remnant of the demolished chocolate dessert. I eyed the man Leon and I had been mulling over with an inquisitive brow. "He certainly looks the part. Tweed, upturned chin, pursed lips. If he pulls out a pad, I'd be a little worried though."

Leon leaned back on his chair, groaning as he patted his stomach. I didn't look like the only one too full and warm. He ran his fingers down his hair, freshly dyed light brown. Almost the same colour when we first met, almost three years ago. But this time, the length is longer, almost curling at his nape. He styled it a bit for tonight, sweeping the front to his brow in an arch. The urge to run my fingers through it was an intense jerky movement that I had to stamp down every time the urge came.

Whether it was to ruin it or to pat it down, I didn't know. I just wanted to.

Quinn would say this was a lover's urge. Needless tasks to make physical contact.

He twirled his teaspoon. "Why so?"

"He'd be too obvious, wouldn't he? Isn't being a Michelin critic all about secrecy? As to one may not be bribed and be honest in their critique? Playing it obvious might be against the critic's manifesto."

He laughed, warm and airy, meeting my eyes across the table. There was so much love in that gaze, an intensity that it took a learning to, not to look away. It took a while. Leon had the habit of boring into my soul as if he was making promises. A pure, undantulated love that I learned to reciprocate as best as I could. Only because I wanted to reciprocate the love that I felt.

Though he never gets flustered the way I do.

"What'd you reckon? Send him a bit of dessert, see how he responds?" The mischievous look in his eyes was not amiss. "Have him think the resto's on to him and he's trying to get into his good graces?"

I laughed. "Let's not. I'm too tired and too full to face the repercussions of your little prank."

He straightened himself, offering a hand. "Shall we go rest now, my love?"

"In a bit, maybe?" I patted my stomach. "I feel a little too full. I can unpack our things when we get back. If you want to join me for a walk, that is?"

He smiled. "Always."

Loving a sleuth wasn't as difficult as one might imagine. Maybe because Leon respected my time, my dreams— and he had a cache of time and money of his own — but since undertaking courses in UNI, he has been patient. I rent a place with, funnily enough, two medical students who, if not at the hospital ninety percent of the time, awake in the wee hours of the night and disturbing mornings drowning in books and notes.

I had woken up one early morning to jog, only to find one of them passed out on the floor by the door. After two seconds of panicking, I realised they just hadn't made it inside before sleep had demanded their hand. I woke them up and gave them medicine for a headache before heading out.

But for people who needed sleep the most, when it came to weekend partying, they were already dressed to the nines before ten pm.

How that worked, I will never know. Ten to one when I get invited by them, I was always the most sober enough to get us all home. Leon often laughed about it on call.