A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone 2)

And stared.

And stared.

“Lex?” Persephone brushed Lexa’s hand and she jerked, but the touch had gotten her attention. Except now that Lexa was looking at her, she felt...unsettled. The woman had the body and face of her best friend, but the eyes didn’t belong.

These eyes were vacant, lackluster, lifeless.

She had the feeling that she’d just touched a stranger.

“Is this Tartarus?” Lexa asked. Her voice was hoarse, as if it has rusted from disuse.

Persephone’s brows knitted together. “What?”

“Is this my punishment?”

Persephone didn’t understand. How could she think her eternal sentence would be Tartarus?

“Lexa, this is the Upperworld. You—you came back.”

She watched as Lexa close her eyes and when she opened them again, Persephone felt like she was looking at her best friend for the first time since she’d awoken.

“You spend all your time in the Underworld and yet know nothing about death,” Lexa was silent for a moment. “I felt...peace.”

She exhaled, as if the word brought pleasure, and continued.

“My body clings to the ease of death, searches for its simplicity. Instead, I am forced to exist in a distressed and complicated world. I cannot keep up. I don’t want to keep up.”

Lexa looked in Persephone’s direction.

“Death wouldn’t have changed anything for us, Seph,” Lexa whispered. “Being back? That changes everything.”

***

Persephone had just returned from the hospital and poured a glass of wine when someone knocked. She was paranoid about answering the door when she was home alone, so she ignored it, thinking whoever was there would go away.

Except they didn’t.

The knocking became excessive. Persephone approached; her heart stuttered in her chest. She peaked out the window and screamed.

“Apollo!” she yelled. The god’s face was pressed against the glass. She threw open the door. “Why are you knocking?”

“I am practicing respecting boundaries,” Apollo said. “Is this not a mortal custom?”

She would have laughed, but he had scared her.

“I think I preferred you just appearing wherever you’re not wanted.”

To her surprise, he smirked. “Careful what you wish for, Seph.”

She thought about correcting him but let the nickname slide. At least he hadn’t called her Honey Lips.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to bring you this,” he said, and pulled something from behind his back. It was a small, gold lyre.

Persephone took the instrument. “It’s beautiful,” she said and then met his violet eyes. “Why?”

“To say thank you.”