Clair de Lune - [ epic fanfic ]

"We're not friends," you snap, narrowing your eyes into a glare sharp enough to pierce stone. "And stop calling me that."

He tilts his head, his curls catching the faint, flickering light of the soul-lamps nearby. "Calling you what, darling?" he asks, his voice smooth and lilting, every syllable soaked in feigned innocence.

Your teeth clench so hard it's a wonder they don't crack. Heat rises in your chest, crawling up your neck like an itch you can't quite scratch. His smirk only deepens, clearly reveling in your irritation, and you have to fight the urge to hurl the pair of gardening shears in your hand at his insufferably perfect face."

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Or, you are the immortal servant to Hades and Persephone, and Hermes cannot help himself but to get under your skin.