shimmering starlight encapsulates the towering spires of amaurot, skylights kissing the edges of your vision, much like the lips that press proclamations of love to your cheek.
“ hades ,” you breathe, and you feel those selfsame lips curl into a smile you know so well. his response is a curious hum, nudging your cheek gently with the bridge of his nose. “you act like a man starved .” your voice takes a dramatic tone, overdone sigh ghosting past your lips. “have i left you wanting ?”
he laughs, and your heart is set aflutter — it seems so easy for him to do such things to you, you think absentmindedly. yet such thoughts fade away rather quickly when you feel his hand pass along the curve of your hip.
“ dearest persephone ,” hades practically purrs against your ear, drawing your form closer to his. you feel the gentle whisper of his aether caress yours, featherlight and full of adoration. “though i serve the convocation dutifully, every moment i spend apart from you makes me long for your irreplaceable company.” there’s a soft-lipped kiss again on your cheek, your jaw, and lower, where his fingers brush against your throat, teasing. “simply put, i can never have enough .”
your laugh is gentle, bubbling like the champagne the two of you had indulged in only moments before. there’s a comforting warmth in the aether between you — timeless in its loving embrace, everlasting in its honest affections. you snort as you begin waxing poetic, and you feel hades grin as he closes his eyes — he knows your tendency for it, just as you know his flair for theatrics and drama.
your hand reaches to run through silken strands, twirls the lock of white ‘round your finger, and hades sighs a happy sigh at your touch. the city seems so much brighter, brimming with life — inundated with warm, familiar memories spent with the man who whispers sweet nothings against your lips now, who kisses you breathless and steals your attention from the twinkling lights outside your window, and who’s loved you in this lifetime, and surely any that would follow.
it is times like these, tucked away in the privacy of your shared apartment, when masks and cowls are placed in some forgotten corner of your bedroom, and all that’s left is the touch of his skin against yours. hades’ hand brushes against your jaw, eyebrows drawn as your fingertips ghost along his chest and down, down, down to the trail on porcelain skin.
he shudders at your loving touch, a sigh passed between desperate kisses. gone are false bravados and calculated words — it’s a soul-bearing honesty that only exists in between you, him, and something far more carnal, when his hand rests between your thighs when you straddle his hips.
he whispers your name, his persephone, object of his everlasting affections and all-encompassing love, and you flush a lovely shade when those fingers slip inside, and when he moves to leave marks on the soft skin of your throat. it’s the obscene tenderness of it all, when he praises you, and you catch sight of his clever smile curling soft lips as those fingers bring you closer and closer still , then leaving you wanting, panting against him, begging for more of this, more of him —
hades takes you when your back meets the impossibly soft material of your bed, with your legs wrapped around his hips, and his face buried in the crook of your neck. you tell him you love him, want him, need him, and happily does he oblige your requests, and even more does he return your wanton affections with lips, and with teeth.
in the afterglow, you flourish , your aether wrapped around his, never straying too far as sleep makes your eyelids hang lower, and the kiss upon your brow brings a dream-filled smile to your glowing face. hades, your hades, lavishes you in languid, familiar affection, assures you of tomorrow, wraps you in his adoring embrace and in the comforting dark, you find the lovely truth of his words.
it is here, alone and with a breaking heart, do you find the haunting truth in his dying gasp.