Terra’s expression softened when he confessed to his experience with alcohol. He did not go into detail or revealed anything that would suggest why he felt this way, but it was enough for Terra to feel sympathy. Alcohol was poison; certainly enjoyable in moderation, but once it went to the head it could do awful things to people. She did not think of a person’s deteriorating mental stability or even the danger of walking into traffic, but the things that alcohol made them do. Whiskey. The whiff of whiskey provoked a nauseating disgust inside Terra. The things her father had done when he had one glass too many, or two, or a bottle; the clouding of the mind that made inhuman actions acceptable in the mind of the drinker. She tilted her head to the side as she looked at Eden gently, “Do you want to talk about it?” She would not pry. This was personal. But she allowed Eden the opportunity to come forward now or later when he felt ready. And surprisingly, this genuine offer to listen was not rooted in her wanting to gather as much information about the townsfolk as she could, but something else. Perhaps Terra had a heart after all.
“What is it that you think I should share with you?” Terra inquired curiously. She wasn’t the sharing type by any means. There were people she felt more inclined to share thoughts with than others. She was not able to share her thoughts with Jasmine, although she cared about her very much. Jasmine was bright and happy, and Terra would not forgive herself for darkening her spirit. There was Dominic, who was as dark as she was, and it made it so much easier to reveal certain things. But Terra hadn’t made up her mind about Eden. He was warm, genuine and funny. He seemed like a person she could trust. But what if this was what he wanted her to think?
The ever-so-thin but present thread of reluctantness vibrated inside of Eden's mind, making him press his lips together as he maintained an eye-contact with Terra; he couldn't escape the feeling of safeness that she radiated and he, as a sponge, absorbed while around her, but a simple thought that was as valid as the statement the sky is blue -- she was a stranger -- could easily overthrow that safe feeling he was thirsty for. He truthfully felt that he could trust her -- but trusting wouldn't accountably result in her understanding him, just because they had so recently met. Eden began toying the empty coffee cup around his hands, while leaning more forward on the table -- he despised alcohol for having the power to put aside emotions. It stripped humans of what made them human: feelings, and turned them into bodies and nothing more. "It's just... what it does to people. It turns you into a body, just an useless object, with nothing but a body..."
He struggled. He felt a real struggle with putting out what he felt. To the core of his being, to the core of what he truly was, it was disgusting, the whole idea of it. As the son of the goddess of love, it was horrific. The myths and poems about Aphrodite read that she would spent days and nights side by side with her loved one -- if she happened to fall in love with a human, she would make sure to use every bit of time to show them love. It was wholly being dedicated to the idea of loving someone purely and selflessly -- something that Eden wanted for everyone to feel. But with society today it seemed almost... unachieveable. Impossible. Unattainable. And as the saddest of it all, needless.
