Wanderlust

1,000 words exactly.

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He'd never seen a fire like the one that burned in her eyes. The vermillion hues clashed with ochre to create a blazing masterpiece that lit up the gloom of his throne room. When she dipped her head, lashes fluttering, he found himself leaning forward in his seat to catch another glimpse of those exquisite eyes. He could wander through the paths her gaze promised and never be bored with what he found.

Her skin was like ivory, pale and luminous in the dim candlelight, only the brightest of pinks dusted her knuckles, her skin so easily bruised. Aphrodite had once declared his beloved's skin flawless, but his onyx eyes could pick out her imperfections, even if they didn't seem so to him. The brutal yellows and blues that marred her skin were deliberate, marks made from her volition to have them there. She didn't want to be known as perfect, so he never claimed her to be so (even though he thought she was).

When she smiled, it was with only a tilt of her painted lips, the softest hues of red enticing him. Amusement would light her fiery eyes, setting them aflame like the dawn. Hades enjoyed watching that light dance in her gaze, knowing he'd put it there. Her throaty laugh set his heart galloping, it was flawed, roughhewn and raspy, but he worshipped it still.

He'd lay down his life for her, let alone his crown. She could bring him to his knees with a sly glance and a playful smirk, yet Hades didn't mind that he became putty in her hands with a single greeting. He adored her like the moon, awestricken at how such a delicate woman could host such a warrior's heart. Bright and beautiful, if she asked him to, he'd bring the sky crashing down, just to see her smile.

Her touch was feather light, barely comprehensible as she ran her fingers over his cheeks, along his jaw and over his shoulders. When she spoke, it was like stones wrapped in velvet, a smoky twinge with a soothing edge that enraptured him. He could listen to her spin tales of trivial matters and never grow bored of hearing her voice.

Long locks of chestnut were loose and wild, unruly curls untamed by neither pins nor ties. Unbound, it bounced around her slim shoulders, twisting in the soft breeze of the Underworld as she sat upon the veranda, reading her books of fiction. Silent delight washed over her face, and Hades lazily ran his fingers through her tresses as he watched his kingdom awaken under the coming of dawn, his own wordless contentment written across his face.

When she'd slip out of bed in the dead of the night, Hades never questioned her, instead only rolling over and falling back into slumber. Yet, there was a nagging there that never quite left him, there was something wrong.

He began noticing her absences more often. He'd often seek her out, just to find no one knew of where she'd vanished to, the only trace left of her was the scent of citrus and smoke. When she'd return, his hands would clutch her forearms, and his brows would furrow in worry, "Where have you been?" His voice would rumble.

"Around," her reply would come, and his teeth would clench in growing frustration. She'd press her lips to his, and his concerns would wash away under her touch. A while, he could leave his concerns for a while.

He awoke one night to her absence. He'd sighed, pressing his face into the pillow, until the sound of shifting brought his attention to the balcony. She stood there, bathed in ethereal moonlight, her hair drifting in the wind. She looked sullen, and Hades couldn't stand the sight of his beloved unhappy. He slid from the covers, wrapping his arms around her middle, "What troubles you?"

"I wish to see my home," she whispered, "but I cannot leave you," he realised where she'd been disappearing to, she'd been visiting her family. Hades sighed, but tilted her head up, wishing to see the sparkle in her eyes, or the smile that curved her lips.

Too long, he'd been ruler for too long. It was time to retire, it was time to settle down and enjoy his life. He gazed towards his kingdom, smiling lightly as the plan formed in his head, "What if I came with you? You wouldn't have to leave me at all," he suggested. He felt her shock, and then an impish glee brightened her features. He'd become dispassionate with godly duties, his desire to appease her mixed with his monotony spawned a wanderlust so strong he was prepared to execute any precarious scheme they could concoct. He gripped her hands, a childish grin forming on his own handsome face.

"I'll give the reins to someone else, we can go adventure; as long as you're there, anywhere will do," his own excitement built at the thought of exploring the world he was so unfamiliar with, and with her by his side, he could tackle any obstacle thrown their way.

"What about the Underworld?" He shook his head, cupping her face with his broad hands.

"Fear not, my love, I'll deal with that."

He held true to his promise, by the time morning broke across the sky, Hades had managed to pass his crown off to a suitable leader, (Thanatos had agreed to it after observing his king's uncharacteristic bubbliness), and now sat astride Cerberus, his wife upon a stallion fitting for her untameable nature. He stared at her now, with her youthful face beaming, and those eyes he adored agleam.

"Where to, my beloved?" He asked her, and she tilted her head back, letting the wind caress her skin.

"How about my village?" Hades smiled at her hesitance. The dappled light illuminating the bruises upon her alabaster skin, the reins of her horse clutched tightly in her fists. She was stained and striking.

"That would be perfect."