“I’m ridiculous,” he said.
“You are ridiculous often,” Hecate said. “But you are not ridiculous for picking flowers for your lady love, if that is what you are insinuating.”
Hades wasn’t certain. He wasn’t even sure why he’d begun this. Why would the Goddess of Spring want a bunch of soon-to-be-dead flowers?
“I am going to fuck this up,” he said.
He often shared his doubts with Hecate, and while he knew they were safe with the goddess, her responses were not always comforting.
“Probably,” she said. “But Persephone is forgiving. You’ll remember that when you need to forgive her, won’t you?”
Hades’s brows rose. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“I always know something you don’t,” she replied. “And yet you still do not listen to me. You’ll always need to be forgiving, but especially with Persephone, who has yet to learn the cruelty of the world.”
Hades frowned. “I’d protect her from it if she’d let me.”
“You can’t,” Hecate said. “Nor should you. How else do you expect her to become a goddess otherwise?”
Is that what it takes to embrace divinity? Hades thought. Strife? He supposed it was true of every god he knew. Despite the differences among the Olympians, one thing always united them, and that was the shared trauma of war.
Hecate moved to his side and instructed, “Choose more greenery and those lilies that have yet to bloom.”
Hades paused for only a brief moment before doing as she instructed, noting that Hecate picked the datura.
“I thought you said that was poisonous,” Hades said, eyeing it in her hands.
“It is,” she replied and continued to pick the deceptive flower, root intact.
*
They spent a few more minutes in the garden before heading inside, where Persephone’s voice echoed in the hallway.
“Good boys!” she said, and they found her kneeling on the ground, rotating between rubbing Orthrus’s belly, Typhon’s neck, and Cerberus’s ear.
“Spoiled beasts,” Hecate chided.
“They are not spoiled. You’re not spoiled, are you?” Persephone asked.
They preened beneath her hands, and Hades did not blame them. He liked being fawned over by her too. “You are all very good boys.”
She finally looked up and seemed to realize that he was also present. Her smile faltered, but only for a moment. She rose to her feet and spoke shyly.
“Hi.”
Hades was amused but no less flustered by her. He liked seeing her so at home in his realm. It made him feel like this could last an eternity.
Her eyes darted to the flowers in his hand. For a moment, he forgot he was holding them.
He cleared his throat and held them out. “I…picked these for you.”
Persephone smiled sheepishly and took them. “They are beautiful, Hades.”
There was a brief moment of strained silence, and Hecate cleared her throat. “Let’s go, beasts. The lovers would like time alone. Not in the dining room, please.”
The Goddess of Witchcraft turned and wandered down the palace hallway with the dogs in tow.
Persephone held Hades’s gaze. “What are these for?”
Hades rubbed the back of his neck. “I just thought you might like them.”
“I love them,” she said. “Thank you.”
There was a beat of silence, and Hades wondered why things felt so awkward between them. Had it been the flowers? Or did it have something to do with their earlier conversation? Was Persephone expecting him to dive into an explanation of his past and present?
“How was work?” he asked, disliking the doubt that twisted through him when she hesitated.
“Fine,” she answered quickly.
“Sounds frustrating,” he observed.
“I don’t want to talk about work,” she said, fixating on one of the lilies, drawing her finger along one of the petals.
Hades frowned. This had already gotten off to a bad start. “Then we won’t,” he said, and she looked at him over the bouquet.
“You said you took my picture,” she hedged. “Do you have a camera?”
“I do,” he said, and he couldn’t quite place how he felt about sharing it and its contents. Perhaps the closest feeling to describing it was embarrassment, though he also felt a little shameful. He should want to share this with Persephone. He supposed his only fear was what she would think, as always.
“Do you take pictures often?”
“Occasionally. When I find something worth immortalizing.”
Her lips curled. “But you are immortal.”
“I am, but moments are not. They are fleeting.”
“Can I see?” she asked.
“Of course,” he found himself saying, despite his concerns, and led her to his office.
“When did you begin this hobby?” Persephone asked as he made his way behind the desk.
“Years ago,” he said. “The technology of mortals never ceases to amaze me.”
And terrify him, if he were being honest.
He pulled the camera from a drawer behind his desk, turned it on, and handed it to her. While it was old, he liked the results he got from the pictures he took.
As she looked through the photos, he walked across the room to pour a drink, hoping it would settle the unfamiliar, nervous energy moving through him.
She was quiet for a moment and then said softly, “These are beautiful.”
A faint smile touched his lips, and he heard a click. When he looked, she was lowering the camera.
“There is a moment I want to keep.” Her voice was quiet.
He stared for a minute and then approached, setting his glass on the desk.
He touched her chin with his thumb and forefinger and kissed her, pulling back when he heard the click of the camera.
“This moment too,” she whispered.
Hades wasn’t sure what to think, but he did not dislike this. “Will you let me take pictures of you?”
“You already have,” she said.
He swallowed something thick in his throat as he clarified. “Bare.”
She paused for a moment and then answered, “If you let me do the same.”
Hades held her heated gaze and took the camera from her before instructing, “Take off your skirt.”
He stepped back, camera in hand, and snapped a few pictures as she shimmied out of it. When it puddled on the floor, he approached and lifted her onto the desk, drawing her shirt over her head. He took a moment to kiss her mouth and the part of her breasts that pillowed over the top of her bra before handing the camera to her.
“Take pictures of yourself,” he said.
She stared at him for a moment, as if uncertain, so he prompted, “What would you send me when we are apart?”
Her eyes darkened. “And what will you do?”
“Watch,” he said. He took his glass, moved a few steps back, and sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk.
It took her a few minutes to get comfortable, but soon she was taking teasing pictures and explicit ones, and the longer Hades watched, the harder he grew. When she was finished, she sat on the edge of the desk with her legs crossed and took a final photo of him. He could not imagine how he looked—half crazed with lust, overcome by a primal need to claim her.
He thought he would go to her, but she came to him, straddling his thighs.
She set the camera aside and unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands were hot against his skin as they made their way down his stomach to his erection, painfully restricted by his slacks. She freed it, only to reach for the camera.
Before she captured this moment, she looked at him. “What will you do with these?”
“Can you not guess?”
“Show me,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.
It was so fucking hot in this room.