“Are you familiar with the myth of Hades and Persephone?”
Now why did I think Monday was the first. I’m already behind. Anyway. Drabble ft Elliott and my farmer below!
“Are you familiar with the myth of Hades and Persephone?”
At this, Elliott’s munching slowed. What an odd question. He swallowed, tilting his head towards the farmer, as he wiped some juice dribbling down his chin “The abduction leading to the changing of seasons?”
Mariah, the farmer, nodded, her light laugh mellifluous in a way that Elliott swore to himself rivaled birdsong “That’s the one.”
Elliott’s sea green eyes studied her expression for a moment, as a sly tug pulled on his lips “Is this when you tell me your gift had an ulterior motive?”
Immediately, Mariah’s cheeks flushed pink. “If it worked that way, I fear you’d be stuck in my underworld forever. You all but devoured that fruit.”
A deceivingly muscular arm stretched as Elliott scratched the back of his neck sheepishly “It was quite juicy. And you know I adore it.”
Mariah’s soft laugh dulled his embarrassment, a familiar sense of ease taking over in its place. The farmer’s presence always had a way of calming the crashing waves within him. Soon, she spoke again, her voice now holding a teasing lilt “Besides, I’d hope you don’t see my farm as an underworld you’d be imprisoned in.”
“Half the year, like our dear Persephone?” He chided playfully. “Our even longer, as my ravenous lust for the pomegranate can’t be controlled?”
“I don’t think I could take you from your seaside home.” Mariah admitted with a soft, almost dreamlike smile. “You’ve really carved out a place for yourself here.”
“Then perhaps it is I who abducted you,” Elliott mused, while raising an eyebrow roguishly “that my dark cold cabin alive with spiders is the underworld of your captivity.”
Mariah let out a snort-laugh “I love the spiders. And the crabs. Little bonus friends when I visit. Besides, you eating the whole pomegranate so quickly means I’d be here forever.”
Elliott could feel the words on his tongue. That it wouldn’t be a bad thing, waking up to her in his home everyday. But they’re just friends, so he swallowed it, filing it away for the work in progress romance novel with a thinly veiled protagonist. And instead…he said something worse “weren’t they married?”
