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Unsurprisingly, Persephone was glaring at him.
She had gotten into the bed, the thin top cover stripped back to reveal the thick, black blanket beneath. The blanket itself was warm enough not to need a fire in the hearth, which explained the lack of light in the room from behind his eyelids. It was dark inside the room without the light of the flames reflecting off the bright white top sheet and light canopy over the bed.
He walked toward the bed, watching Persephone as he did, and she him. As she pulled the blanket tighter under her chin he noticed her clothes neatly folded at the foot of the bed. On the side he intended to sleep on.
Sliding one hand under the soft fabric and the other on top to not disturb the expertly folded pieces, he picked them up and turned to put them on the chair by the hearth – it had not moved from it’s place in the middle of the room, where he’d moved it before disappearing from the room – freezing mid step when Persephone coughed once, pointedly.
Half-turning his body back to the bed he raised an eyebrow at her.
“What are you doing?” She frowned, he could tell her face was tinged pink even in the dim light.
He ignored her, opting to show her rather than tell.
After carefully putting the clothes on the chair he turned back to her. She was still watching him, awaiting his next move. He quickly removed the belt around his waist and the pins at his shoulder holding the stained outfit together on his body and let it fall gracefully to the ground just as Persephone had done mere hours ago.
Her eyes widened as she took him in, gazing lower and lower until catching on his cock and whipping them back up. She narrowed her gaze as she straightened, holding the blanket tight under her chin, showing him none of her presumably bare skin.
“What are you doing?” She repeated with more disgust than Hades thought was warranted.
Stepping out of the pile at his feet, he went to climb into the bed with her, grasping the sheet and pulling it back. Her hand shot out from beneath the blanket and latched onto his wrist. The blanket ballooned slightly with her movement and Hades glimpsed the bare skin of her thigh, the little dips and wrinkles beautifully contrasted against the smooth silk sheet beneath her.
Hades quickly looked away, back up at her face, hoping she hadn’t missed his obvious glance beneath the blanket as it fell back to the bed. Her hand tightened, her jaw mimicking the action as they stared each other down.
One of them would have to give in, and it was not going to be him.
Letting go of the blanket, Hades twisted his palm up to grab her hand at the same time she pulled away from him, sitting back against the wall.
The blanket was taut around her, the outline of her shoulders and arms straining against the thick fabric.
He climbed into the bed, tugging the blanket halfway over himself and propping himself up on an elbow to look at her. Persephone shifted under his gaze and the blanket slid off her shoulder, baring her skin to the warm room.
“Aren’t you hot under there?” He said, dragging his eyes from her shoulder and laying on his back. As he pulled his arm to rest beside him he carefully let it graze her thigh, relishing in her shivering at his touch.
Persephone scooted further away from him, mumbling a quiet, unconvincing “no,” as she did.
Neither of them spoke again, listening to the unending singing outside the door. Singing that would not cease until they heard something that convinced them to run away and give the couple privacy. Or until they grew tired of waiting. Immortals didn’t tire quickly, however, and could easily stay where they were, singing and drinking and listening intently, until they were satisfied.
Hades shut his eyes and reached an arm behind his head, looking like he intended to fall asleep. While he slowly reached toward her, dragging his knuckles in circles on her leg until her hand clamped around his wrist, thrusting it back to his side.
The touch of her fingers on his ribs was electric, sparks flying across his skin from where they touched.
“Get out of my bed,” she said between her teeth.
“It’s my bed. Our bed, now.” He wiggled his fingers, feeling the tendons move under her grasp, and grinding her nerves.
“I am not sharing a bed with you.”
“You have no choice,kale.”
“I will not,” she said, her tone final.
“Then sleep on the floor,” he said, matching her tone. Yanking the pillow from behind her, Hades threw it past the foot of the bed. There was a dull thud as it hit the door and silently landed on the floor. “Sweet dreams.”
Cracking an eye, Hades watched as Persephone scoffed, her hair flying out from behind her ears and covering her face. She pulled it back, the blanket falling to her lap, and slapped the bed with her open palm. Hades quickly shut his eyes again as she turned toward him, her face murderous as she said, “Sleep on the floor? I’m your wife, not some whore you hired for the night.”
“You’ve got that last part undeniably correct.” Hades smirked at his own joke.
With his eyes shut he didn’t see the slap coming. The entire side of his face stung and his neck cranked too far too quickly to the side as Persephone smacked him first in the face, then the stomach.
