he’s going to be the death of her .
dramatic , maybe , but suitable for the way she feels when she steps into the garden . vibrant blooms , salty air , the stars scattered like mica in the dark , and hermes . hermes , stretched out by a pool . hermes , with that chronic half - amused edge to their eyes . chaos help her .
“ i would have been on time but somebody – ” she lowers into the space next to him , accepts the outstretched cigarette . “ didn’t give a dress code . took me twice as long to get ready . ”
there’s something about the scene that gives renewed life to that damn host of butterflies in her stomach . no , she’s not nervous . but if there was anywhere she could be , anywhere that she could lose all progress and go tumbling back , she thinks this would be the place . the setting where she could open the crate and let them go , let them flutter to their heart’s content among the cherry trees . she won’t , can’t , but there’s some semblance of solace in the concept .
“ this is . . . ” there’s no finishing that sentence . she , who always has something to say , left struggling to find the words . a laugh blows past her lips . smoke puffs out , settles , disappears . dusa finds something new to notice in every blossoming corner she looks past . when she leans back , it’s to mimic his position : legs in the water , propped up at her elbows . water swirls against her skin . somewhere along the length of her bracketing forearms , today’s date is a beacon . “ i don’t know what i was expecting , but it wasn’t this . ”
that , for those keeping score at home , is how you leave a girl speechless . ❛ ❛ it was this or the club . which , by the way , let’s not write that off , because there is some sick black light shit happening tonight . ❜ ❜ hermes pulls the champagne out of it’s bucket and passes it over to her , trading that for the cigarette back on his turn . this is an old dance . all of this , the smoke , the bottle , the two of them . on february first . a familiar waltz , retracing their steps . all that .
but of course , it’s not the same . it isn’t them on the living room floor , tangled in a pile of blankets , laughing their ribs sore . it isn’t them on their apartment roof , shaking a bottle of champagne open . they’re no longer flush , hand to waist , gliding over the ballroom floor . it really came down to muscle memory . echoes . there’s five inches and five years between them . there always was , now .
it could be argued , though , from under the cherry blossoms , that maybe this hard - earned peace was better . maybe to be twenty - seven , and to love without being in love , to find a quiet detente , a patient understanding , maybe that was better . well , it was what it was , at least . it was certainly less tiring . safer . altogether less like drowning . so the question then , he guesses , is : with years out from the last time his head was under the water , does he still miss the burn of chlorine in his lungs ? even from their newfound safety at the pool’s edge ? yeah , probably .
❛ ❛ soooo , is hades gonna let you enjoy the summit ? or are you on zag duty ? ❜ ❜ someone has to babysit his punch happy cousin . and it’s not gonna be hermes , not this round . he immediately regrets bringing it up , though . bringing zagreus up . sure , maybe there’s five inches and five years between dusa and himself . cities apart , lives apart . and maybe hermes had betrayed zagreus first , in a way . but even from here , from the pool’s edge , the thought of zag throwing his schoolboy crush on dusa in his face brought red into his vision . hot , blurry , furious red .
txt : the irony of me never making a move on her because i knew what she meant to you is not lost on me . sometimes you just bury shit for the people you love . i did that for you why couldn’t you do that for me .
he takes a long drag , rolls his neck , absentmindedly kicks at one of the tealights in the pool ––– lifting it out of the water with his toe and trying to balance it . it tips over , winks out . fair enough . ❛ ❛ as opposed to hermes duty , a job for which the necessity no longer exists . because i’m super mature and responsible now . got my own keynote and everything . ❜ ❜ he winks . ariadne's voice is in his head , here . reminding him that he was on hermes duty . a job that was , in fact , dramatically necessary . and rather demanding . though it was not without perks . it’s that thought , of ari’s voice , of perks , that brings a sharper edge to his smile here . an extra something in his eye . ( not quite unsaid , here , maybe even oversaid , but worth noting : is that once this belonged to her . once this duty was hers . once this glint on his expression was hers . ) he trades back the cigarette for the champagne again . necks it . when the fuck did everything get so fucking complicated ?
stormborns
janainaart
yousharknotpass
germansingergirl
pixelskylines
