continued from here with @mparwyn
By nature, Hel was never a deep sleeper. When you had been tasked to oversee the passage of the dead, you find the sleep was neither necessary nor wanted. However, since occupying a mortal vessel, sleep it seemed was required once in a while in order to restore one's energies. It was how she ended up making the decision to "visit" the demigod's apartment after all.
The cat, Snaer had reacted even worse than the goddess to the moon child's absence and had more or less acted ferally to all the things Hel possessed. It was only after discovering that the cat behaved while within Arwyn's abode did Hel realize she could at least rescue some of her remaining clothes.
The sofa...well, the old one was too drab. Hel figured the demigod could use a spot of color.
The goddess of the underworld stirred at the scent of baking goods, and for a moment, she thought her dreams had taken a sensory turn. It was not uncommon for her to dream of food, it was just as enjoyable as having to partake. But to actually smell them? Surely, her dreams were getting more vivid.
Sure enough, they were not dreams at all, but reality manifesting. She indeed could smell baked goods, and that familiar pine smell was not just a lingering scent. He had returned.
True to form, Hel made no hasty movements to depart from the bed, but rather took her leisurely time to make her way to the kitchen, which was the logical place to look first. Baked goods always equated the kitchen.
For a moment, she stood upon the threshold, just studying tall form familiarly bustling around the kitchen as if he had not left without a word a few weeks ago. It didn't matter that she could have probably texted or called him, in her opinion, he would have let her know if he wanted. And so she watched, grey eyes just taking the sight of him creating things in. The briefest of hesitation lingered on her face which vanished when he finally caught on to her presence and turned to face her.
That smile, and the nervous flutter of hands. It's like he never left at all. Hel was struck with the reality that if this was her reaction at only a few weeks without his presence, then she was, for a lack of a better word: utterly fucked.
Still, none of the internal panic nor relief showed in her face as she wordlessly made her way closer to his kitchen island, still staring at him unblinkingly. Her eyes had sought any sign of injury early, and while she could not see anything, nor could she feel any harm to him through the spell, there was something niggling at the back of her mind. Almost like a cold chill, a warning.
With deliberate slowness, she picks up the nearest baked treat, a large cookie, still warm from the oven and takes a bite, all the while still watching him. She finishes the cookie in silence, before picking up another, ignoring the mewls of the cat pawing at her legs as Hel stared at the demigod who gifted her.
