Deviant or Divine | Hades and Persephone

V - 🌹

The house was...a mansion. All Leila could do was stare.

If this is the kind of housing New Olympus gives to its residents...

Gold and glass and glittering– it shone like the sun. Every light must've been on to greet the two of them. Leila had to look away it was so bright.

"Welcome home!" Camille beamed. They both got out of the car and she grabbed Leila's hand and led her up the long driveway. Camille's grip was stronger than she let on and Leila was starting to think that Camille was a force in heels.

The inside of the house was simple: white arches and white marble with white furniture and gold accents. Large glass vases housed stalks of wheat that Leila suspected were made out of real gold. Camille fit in perfectly.

She led her on a brief house tour— nodding at the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a pool, her master suite, then Leila's own bedroom— that ended in the kitchen. Like the rest of the place, the floor plan was spacious and modern. Leila couldn't help but wonder if anyone actually cooked in it. The marble was too white to have ever been stained with food.

Leila noticed something as Camille walked through the house, her carefully arranged centerpieces— curving, crystal horns overflowing with gold fruit and flowers— to her framed pictures of faraway farmland, how her face shone with pride. And something else, an eagerness.

Leila felt her heart swell at Camille's waiting face as she realized she wanted Leila to love her home just as much as she did.

She regarded Camille's manicured hands, folded neatly. Her untroubled, perfect brow. Her eyes, just slightly creased— Leila's only indication at the undercurrent of emotion, the stress and worry. She remembered how Camille's eyes hadn't left Leila all through the ceremony and after, hovering close if Leila ever faltered.

She felt her throat close at the thought that someone was here to look out for her, in this new world. This new life.

Maybe I'm starting to succumb to exhaustion.

Leila carefully rested her hands on the cool marble counter top. She curled her fingers as she spotted the crescents of dirt under her nails.

She coughed. "Your house is beautiful," she said.

Camille clapped her hands together.

"Thanks, darling. I have food on the way from my favorite restaurant. I hope you like pasta." Leila gave noncommittal shrug– she'd find out soon enough.

Camille hesitated, a coy smile on her lips. "While we wait, I thought I could show you my greenhouse."

A click of her heels and a spin and Camille was off again. Leila's curiosity peaked and she trailed after her, following the sound of Camille's heels on the hardwood floor.

How am I going to live here when I have no idea how to get around? Leila wondered as she lost track of her way back to the kitchen.

As they rounded a corner, Leila could feel it. Warmth.

The warmth radiating from a set of crystal French doors at the end of the hall. Light cut through the glass, splashing prisms across the white walls. The warmth of heat, yes but also the warmth of magic, nurturing and sweet. Calling to her own. Her magic was the only thing that felt familiar to her, though Leila could not imagine that magic could be anything near familiar.

They approached and Camille threw a smile over her shoulder, matching the beautiful warmth and lacking any of the hesitation from before.

She grabbed the doorknobs with both hands and pushed.