Archive of Our Own ^beta

If there was one thing Zagreus was thankful for, it was the fact that airport security was—to put it lightly— extremely forgiving when it came to big, showy, declarations of affection. It had been laughably easy to dash past the security check-points—even while bogged down with a bouquet wider than Zagreus was tall. 

(Zagreus will never again deny that working in a flower shop seriously had its perks.)

He’d taken a taxi just to get here, a full hour away from the city, and the flowers were already beginning to wilt. Little bits of leaves and petals fly off here and there, and Zagreus silently utters an apology to the poor cleaners who will inevitably have to pick up for him.

It had probably been sympathy that had gotten him this far, sympathy and amusement at the comical sight of a man dashing through an airport looking like he’d just gotten out of bed, carrying a bouquet that would have definitely cost way more than Zagreus’ annual salary could afford—twice over, even.

Even if he had actually purchased it rather than spend a couple hours having ransacked his mother’s home garden that morning, Zagreus knew the price was worth it. 

This was it, this was the big gesture that would convince Thanatos.

Hopefully.

And if it didn’t work, well, his mother would understand. She had been the one of the people who had encouraged Zagreus to do this big gesture, in a way. That was how Zagreus had interpreted her words, at least.

Follow your heart , she had said. 

. . . This was what she meant, right?

Stumbling around a couple of gawking tourists and a bemused looking security guard, Zagreus ducks into a narrow hallway, clicking his tongue in annoyance at the way the purple carnations crumpled against the wall. 

At least he thinks those are carnations. He honestly has no idea what any of these flowers were or meant; he’d just grabbed whatever he could find blindly clambering around the shop before his mother had woken up.

Zagreus really hoped Thanatos didn’t get too curious about how he had been able to afford such an arrangement.

The narrow hallway opens up into a gigantic terminal. The international departures section of the airport was dizzyingly huge; Zagreus’ head spins at all the numbers and letters. 

Shit, which gate was Than’s flight leaving from, again?

More airport security personnel zoom past on one of those weird airport carts. Through the dense clump of flowers pressed against his face, Zagreus sees one of them waving at him. He nods back in greeting.

This must be a common occurrence, then. This information was as relieving as it was distressing.

Zagreus decides to press on, keeping his eyes peeled for that familiar shock of silver hair in the crowd. He wonders how much farther he needs to go, whether Thanatos is even there.

There’s a departure and arrival display on one of the walls, names and numbers shifting around rapidly.

“C’mon, where is it,” Zagreus mutters, searching for the name of that place Thanatos said he was being transferred to. Some European city, a whole world away. He finds it after a moment—the consonants and syllables sounding familiar, at least. He checks the departure time.

Okay, he still had twenty minutes before Thanatos left. 

Probably for forever.

Zagreus’ feet feel like they’re on fire with how fast he’s running, his chest burning and his arms aching with the exertion of lugging around all these flowers. Hermes would have probably laughed at how slow he was going, clumsily bumping into the shoulders of irritated travellers in his hurry to get to Thanatos’ gate.

Zagreus wasn’t going to let it all end like this.

Not with a shouting match in a park, where Thanatos had told Zagreus he was being selfish and Zagreus responded by dunking Thanatos in the fountain and running off. That had been the worst Valentine’s Day in his life.

He had to win Thanatos back somehow. And he had to do it fast . And hadn’t throwing big, showy gifts at his problems always worked before?

Zagreus had even prepared a speech, a long and sappy soliloquy about how much Than means to him. He had it written down and edited it and memorized it dozens of times in the last few days. He has even asked Hypnos to look over it for him, as embarrassing as that had been. The crumpled note was even stuffed in his back pocket, just in case.

Admittedly, it wasn’t that good of a speech. Words weren’t exactly his forte, but what else could he do to stop Thanatos from leaving? 

The gate Thanatos is at the very end of the terminal, a distant and unreachable speck that Zagreus almost misses in his rush. He’s been running for a while—although maybe he’d have been here a bit faster if he’d run the right way on that stupid moving walkway—and Zagreus hears the boarding announcement from across the hall.

He’s inching closer and closer, and he can see Thanatos’ sleek grey hair, his impeccable suit coat. The little details Zagreus has held in his mind and memorized over the years pop into view as Zagreus draws nearer to wear Thanatos stands in line.

The way his eyebrows scrunch together in tiredness, the gold of his eyes as he notices Zagreus running towards him, the way his eyes widen in surprise and the upwards pitch of his voice as he shouts in shock—

“Zagreus! What are you doing here?!” Thanatos yells in a strangled voice. His eyes are drawn to the huge bouquet, the towering mess of droopy, colorful flowers, before moving back to Zagreus’ bashful face poking through.

“Thanatos, I’ve always—” Zagreus begins, reciting the words he had committed to memory.

In his back pocket, his phone buzzes with a new text message.

Zagreus doesn’t bother to check it. He already knows what it is. And who sent it.

And now everything feels wrong to him.

Someone brushes past the two of them, the strong aroma of black coffee wafting from their cheap paper cup. Zagreus shuffles to the side politely, trying to ignore how the scent makes his head spin.

“Thanatos, I’ve always—always—”

Zagreus tries to begin his big speech again, his romantic declaration of love, but the words are stuck in this throat like a fishbone, growing more scratchy and painful the harder he tries to force them out.

He’d blame it on his pollen allergies—if he had any.

“Thanatos,” Zagreus begins, deciding to abandon the script he wasted painstaking hours of his life trying to draft, “I came here to beg you not to leave. I was going to tell you I was in love with you, and that I wanted to spend my life with you. I wrote a whole speech, even.”

A speech he was now going to throw away.

“Zagreus, you can’t possibly think that you could just show up like this and expect me to quit my job for you—” Thanatos begins, scanning the growing crowd with embarrassment, painfully aware at the fact he was holding up the line. Thanatos looks apologetically at the gate agent, who shrugs. 

At least the staff seem to be used to it.

“Don’t worry, Than, I don’t plan on it,” Zagreus says, lowering the bouquet of flowers away from his face to have a clearer view of Thanatos. Zagreus wonders what the hell he’s doing, completely going off the rails from his plan like this. 

No, he wasn’t just going off the rails, he was smashing it all into pieces and burning the fragments.

“I, uh, realized something, just now. So I’m going to say good luck, Thanatos. And goodbye.” The words tumble out of Zagreus’ mouth as he fumbles with the drooping bouquet in his arms. His grand confession of love decidedly forgotten, Zagreus grabs the most pristine looking flower from the bunch that he could find, offering it to Thanatos.

Thanatos takes it, bewildered.

“Is this. . . Is this a lilac?” Thanatos asks. He rolls the stem between his fingers. 

“Oh, is that what it is? I mean, er, yeah!” Zagreus says, glances at the purple flower he had handed Thanatos. Hm, that definitely looked very lilac-y. Although it could have easily been a hyacinth or something. “Actually, I was going to give you the whole thing. I don’t think you’d want to lug it up into the plane, though, so you’ll have to make do. Consider it a late present for your promotion, Thanatos.”

“I—Thank you, Zagreus. This really means a lot to me. Honestly,” Thanatos sighs, “I have no idea what I would have done if you really did try to get me to stay.”

A little part of Zagreus hopes that Thanatos would have chosen to miss his flight and called Zagreus’ father and quit his job right then and there, had Zagreus really gone through with it all. They would have kissed and ridden off into the sunrise and the credits would roll and it would have been the kind of perfect romance movie ending that Zagreus’ mother would love.

Of course, it was far more likely that Thanatos would have rejected him right then and there and boarded his flight, leaving Zagreus with little more than a stone faced goodbye and a bouquet of dead flowers.

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t,” Zagreus smiles and squeezes the flowers a little harder towards his chest. There's a muffled boarding announcement from a couple of gates away. Zagreus squares his shoulders, looking Thanatos in the eyes for the last time in who knows how long. “I should go, Than. I don’t want to hold up your flight any longer.”

He’s only made a couple steps in the opposite directions before Thanatos speaks again. 

“Zagreus?” His voice is oddly hesitant. Oddly emotional.

“What is it? Don’t you dare get all sappy on me now, Thanatos. Just because you’ll be living in Europe doesn’t mean you can’t just call me whenever you want.” Zagreus scuffs his shoes against an uneven linoleum tile. Thanatos wasn’t the type to make a big deal of goodbyes, but Zagreus liked to believe he had that kind of effect on people. He at least wanted to believe that Thanatos would miss him.

“Me, sappy? Who’s the one rushing into an airport with a whole speech prepared?” Thanatos snaps. His eyes soften, barely. “I was just wondering what you were going to do with that idiotically large and expensive looking bouquet of yours. I doubt even your mother would be able to salvage it for resale after you’ve completely ruined it.”

“Oh, this?” Zagreus examines the drooping flowers again. Some were beginning to look a sorry shade of brown, but there were a couple that still looked rather lovely. “No need to worry, Than. I know just what to do with it. Speaking of which, I’ll have to hurry now if I want to make it back in time.”

It was still early in the morning, but if Zagreus wanted to get back before the morning rush he’d need to leave pretty soon. As decent as the bouquet looks right now, Zagreus had no idea of knowing how long that was going to last.

“I. . . I won’t keep you waiting. Goodbye, then, Zagreus.” 

Thanatos gives him one last long look before he turns away and steps onto the bridge. His figure disappears as he rounds the corner, leaving nothing but the clacking of his suitcase behind.

And that was that. Anticlimactic.

Zagreus walks out the airport at only a slightly hurried pace, the various airport employees sending him looks of sympathy at the sight of his now wilted bouquet. When he gets outside, he hails a taxi and stuffs himself beside his idiotically large and expensive looking bouquet. The shiny red wrapping paper crinkles as Zagreus buckles it in beside himself.

The sun had only just risen, light glimmering off the snow and molten slush on the ground. It hurts Zagreus’ eyes a bit, seeing the actual sun after so long in the dark airport.

He checks his phone. One unread text. No words, just an image.

It’s a cat meme, so outdated and lame that Zagreus would have assumed the sender was trying to mock him if it had come from anyone else in the world. It’s not funny at all, but it elicits a chuckle from Zagreus all the same. 

Good old Hypnos.

“So, where are you headed today, boss?” The driver chirps, adjusting the mirror.

Tired from the events of the longest morning ever, Zagreus sinks back into the seat of the cab in anticipation of his long ride back and closes his eyes.

Home, he wants to say, and is about to give his address before pausing.

“Uh. . . There’s this coffee shop,” Zagreus begins, “Erebus. You heard of it?”

____

As awfully as Valentine’s Day had ended for Zagreus, it had begun—arguably, questionably—with a high note.

Zagreus has taken his morning trek for coffee, a twenty minute jog away from the apartment he shared with his mother, just above her flower shop.

The snow had been piling up in nature’s last push before the beginning of spring-like weather. Despite the occasional slick spot, the sidewalks were in halfway decent condition and, at the very least, snow-free. Zagreus looked forward to getting a hot cup of coffee on days like this.

He glanced up at where fat snowflakes were falling out of the overcast sky, the clouds shining a brilliant, blinding white. The air smelled sweet from where he stood (just outside a popular candy shop) and he could hear the sound of birds singing (or maybe that had been a distant ambulance siren). 

Zagreus had a feeling that this Valentine’s Day was going to be a very good day.

Erebus, perhaps the only coffee shop that was also known for its excellent gyros, had been fully decked out for the occasion. Pink and white streamers zig-zagged across the tasteful abstract art that lined the walls of the establishment, heart-emblazoned tablecloths draped across each of the sleek wooden tables scattered around. 

Lace-lined paper hearts, hand-made and covered in glitter, were strung from the ceiling. They were placed at exactly the perfect height and location that Charon has no choice but to bat them away from his face every time the wall fan spun in his direction, constantly threatened with an eyeful of cheap craft store glitter.

The perpetrator behind this heart explosion dozed behind the register, entirely oblivious to his brother’s rapidly increasing ire. Zagreus approached Hypnos carefully, noting the heart covered sweater he was wearing. Hypnos’ noodle-like body had practically disappeared in the garish pink yarn. 

Of course, Zagreus imagined it was difficult to find clothing that would properly fit Hypnos, who—with his disproportionately tall and lean frame—made anything he wore look either far too short or far too wide.

Zagreus stomped the packed snow off his shoes at the welcome mat, startling Hypnos awake. Golden eyes blinked wide open as Hypnos sat up with a start.

“I’m up, I’m up—Oh, g’morning Zagreus! It is morning, right? I can never tell in here.” Hypnos stretched his arms out, yawning, “Hey, do you want to try the Valentine’s Day special? Think of it as a little good luck present for your date with my brother later!”

Zagreus flushed. He and Thanatos. . . They weren’t like that yet. And maybe they wouldn’t be like that ever. Thanatos had been incredibly insistent that he was only back in Zagreus’ life to keep him from getting into any trouble.

“I don’t think Than would call it a date,” Zagreus began, stepping towards the counter and taking a seat at his usual spot. Plastic heart-shaped confetti crinkled loudly under his sneakers. Hypnos had pulled out all the stops this year.

Hypnos huffed, setting down an opaque paper cup of. . . something in front of Zagreus. The “Caution: Extra Hot” label graced the black plastic lid mockingly. There wasn’t a single whiff of steam coming out of the little hole on top, and a cursory feel of the cup told Zagreus that whatever was inside had already cooled to room temperature. If it had even been hot in the first place.

“Wow, Zagreus, you really are hopeless. Now that I think about it, my brother is too! You two are perfect for each other,” Hypnos spun his office chair around in lazy circles. Each turn he made sent an ear-splitting screech echoing through the coffee shop.

Through the miracle of Hypnos and his endless persistence and puppy-dog eyes, Charon had allowed Hypnos to bring in the ratty old thing. It had been scavenged from a yard sale, from which Hypnos had also gotten himself a brand new chia pet and an old ruffled nightgown that Zagreus was pretty sure someone had died in.

The vintage maroon upholstery stuck out like a sore thumb against the modern shades of black, gold and purple that decorated the rest of Erebus. There were very, very few people that Charon would ever surrender his stringent aesthetic sense to, and Hypnos was one of them.

For this very reason, Hypnos was given free reign to decorate on certain holidays, such as Valentine’s Day. (Other days included Christmas, St. Patrick’s, and Mardi Gras. Of course, Halloween was reserved solely for Charon after last year’s. . . incident.)

Zagreus wanted to throw a witty snipe back at Hypnos, but all he could come up with is something along the lines of “I’m not that hopeless” and “Do you really think it’s a date?”, both of which would definitely result in nothing but laughter and brutal honesty from Hypnos.

He settled for popping open the coffee cup and taking a sip from its lukewarm contents.

And—wow. Just wow. It tasted awful.

The flavour was hard to describe. The first thing he had tasted was the familiarly bitter tang of coffee, but that was soon overtaken by a flavor he could only identify as vaguely tasking like grenadine. There was also a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg, and then a whole bunch of notes that Zagreus couldn’t hope to identify, including some savory ones. 

It tasted, all together, like the equivalent of listening to microphone feedback as someone scraped their nails down a chalkboard. So it was bad, very bad.

After swallowing the uncomfortably thick and sticky mouthful, Zagreus washed it down with a glass of water that Charon graciously provided, the man’s sullen looking expression making it obvious that Zagreus wasn’t the first victim to Hypnos’ concoction.

Zagreus looked into the cup, half expecting its contents to be glowing a sickly green like poison did in the movies. 

Instead—even worse, in fact—whatever the hell Hypnos had given him had the exact same color and consistency as clotted blood. It smelled no better, either.

Zagreus wondered what Hypnos could have possibly decided to put in there. Or what had inspired him to create such a monstrosity. 

Knowing Hypnos, of course, there was a painfully high chance that he had just added every red ingredient he could find into a mixer and called it a day.

“What’s in this?” Zagreus asked.

“I added every red thing I could find and I put it all into the mixer! Doesn’t it taste just like love?” Hypnos gushed, and Zagreus realized just why Charon took it upon himself to both cook and barista.

“Mhm, sure. . . tastes just like it,” Zagreus said. What he knew of love was a complicated and sometimes painful and humiliating mess, so maybe Hypnos wasn’t too far off. That still didn’t make anything about this drink safe for human consumption. 

Hypnos puffed his chest out in pride and made an I-told-you-so face at Charon, who shot Hypnos an emotionless stare before continuing to chop up ingredients. His cleaver crunched loudly against whatever leafy greens he was preparing, and his many rings jingled and clanked against the handle loudly. Between the wide-brimmed velvet hat and the apron that Zagreus was pretty sure was Gucci, Charon looked much more put together looking than any full time chef and barista had the right too.

Sometimes, Zagreus wonders where Charon managed to scrape together enough funds to pay for the place. 

The location wasn’t exactly prime real estate, sure, but the amount of money that Charon must have thrown around to renovate and redecorate what had once been a shambling, below-ground speakeasy was way more than most people—even someone as financially single-minded as Charon—would have been able to procure at such a short notice without putting a sizable dent in their pocket. If they were working alone, that is.

It really wasn’t Zagreus’ business, though. Hermes had already made this point painfully clear when Zagreus had gathered his courage to ask about it.

The door clinks open with the arrival of a new customer, cold wind rushing in with the sleet and snow that puddle on the ground. 

Zagreus knew he should get going soon if he wanted to open up shop in time for the expected Valentine’s Day rush but he still hadn’t gotten an actual drink.

Zagreus tried to subtly gesture to Charon to make his usual while Hypnos began prattling on about something or another to the customer at the register. Charon nodded, making a gesture that Zagreus interpreted as meaning something along the lines of “pay before you leave.” Zagreus gestured something in reply that he hoped Charon understood meant “put it on my tab.”

Charon responded by twisting the blender into place with a threatening crack . 

Yup, the message got across just fine.

“Hey, Hypnos, I was just wondering if you’re planning on putting that Valentine’s Day special of yours on the menu?” Zagreus asked, half in jest and half genuine concern for the health of Erebus’ few customers. It wasn’t written down anywhere, but on the off-chance someone asked if they were serving any holiday specials. . .

“Don’t worry,” Hypnos chirped, and for a second Zagreus wonders if Hypnos was actually self-aware about his drink mixing skills—and had still given the drink to Zagreus anyway. “I made that drink just for you, to give you that extra boost so that you’ll finally confess your undying feelings to my brother!”

“Seriously, Hypnos, why are you so invested in my love life right now? You’ve done a lot for me already, but you really didn’t have to go that far for—”

“Well, neither of you would have made a move otherwise. Hopeless, remember? Oh, and there hasn’t been anything good to watch these days, either, so. . .” Hypnos made a twirling motion with his fingers as he trailed off.

“Wait, you’re setting me up with your brother because you’re bored ?” Zagreus accused, pushing his stool back with a squeal against marble tile. Charon glanced at the two of them from where he stood by the espresso machine. His mouth was twisted into something that might have been a smirk of amusement. It also might have been a grimace of annoyance. It was hard to tell from under that big hat of his.

Hypnos nodded his head rapidly, then began to shake it from side to side, eventually settling for an odd circular motion.

“Yes. Yes and no. Well, mostly yes, but I really do have other reasons.”

“Like?” Zagreus asked. He was certain Charon was betting money on this but if Hypnos had joined in—

“Well, maybe if my brother was dating you, he’d tag along when you visited and I’d get to see him! But I really mean it when I said that you two are definitely meant to be, I just know it. It’s just like a. . . a movie!” Hypnos gushed, his self-assuredness of Zagreus and Thanatos’ compatibility causing Zagreus to sigh. 

If things between them didn’t work out, how would Hypnos feel?

But then again, Hypnos had just admitted to treating Zagreus and his romantic entanglements like some kind of late-night soap, so he’d probably be fine.

“. . . Just don’t get your hopes up too high, Hypnos. And stop trying to send me chocolates under Than’s name,” Zagreus said, trying not to get his own hopes up too high. 

It would be nice if Thanatos actually felt the same way he did, but with the amount of times that Thanatos had stormed out of conversations with Zagreus, the odds were slim.

Hypnos pouted childishly and crossed his arms. 

“He really told you?! And mom says I’m the stupid twin. Ha!” Hypnos chortled, punching in a total to the register. “Well fine, if my brother actually decides to dump you after such an amazing Valentine’s Day display of true love, feel free to come crying back here and eat some ice cream from our freezer. I’m sure Charon would be fine with that. Right, Charon?” 

Charon most definitely did not look fine with that.

“I doubt I’d come here crying but—Wait a minute, Hypnos, what was that about some kind of a display? Than just said we were going to talk,” Zagreus said, eying Charon, who seemed to have finished Zagreus’ order but was still hovering ominously behind Hypnos. 

Wait, was this about the tab thing? Zagreus had been joking. Joking!

Hypnos seemed oblivious to his brother’s not so subtle threats of violence and coffee throwing against Zagreus, and continued his chatter.

“Of course I know that! So that’s why I came with this idea to arrange this huge, super romantic fountain show at the park, and if you two are lucky, maybe you two won’t just talk tonight. You understand what I’m saying right? Because I can explain in more detail if you want!” Hypnos said chipperly.

“No need!” Zagreus said, feeling the tips of his ears go red. “So the park? Thanatos didn’t specify a location, did he tell you we’d be going there?”

Hypnos shook his head so hard Zagreus wondered if it would just come off. 

“Nope! Actually, he told me that he was going to let you decide where to go for your little talk. Something about making sure you were comfortable so you’d handle things better,” Hypnos dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Handle what?” If Thanatos was going to drop something heavy on him, like telling him Cerberus died or something equally awful, Zagreus really would prefer it not happen during Hypnos’ so-called “amazing Valentine’s Day display of true love”.

Hypnos shrugged, leaning back into his office chair.

“I don’t know, something work related. Maybe he’s getting promoted? But what I do know is that means that you can decide the location, so make sure to tell Thanatos that this was all your idea and I had absolutely nothing to do with it, okay?” The look on his face was actually quite threatening, Zagreus realized.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll keep mum. I’m warning you, though, that fountain show of yours better not be anything as embarrassing as last time, got it?” Zagreus answered, still remembering what had happened when Hypnos had successfully convinced Zagreus to hire a skywriter on the day Thanatos met up with him, only for Thanatos to tell him that their friendship was having direct repercussions on his productivity at work, and that they should talk to each other even less than they already did. 

In the amount of time it took Hypnos to figure out a good response, Charon had finally managed to collect Zagreus’ card and swipe it, nudging his younger brother out of the way as Charon punched the order into the register. 

Zagreus had just closed his wallet by the time Hypnos finally gave a small, “Yeah, yeah, of course! Nothing big or embarrassing at all! Well, there’s. . .” Hypnos mumbled something under his breath, “. . . and also the . . .” he mumbles out something else, “but other than this and that and a few other things, it’s totally low-key!”

“That really doesn’t sound low-key to me—Ow!” There’s a sharp nudge at his shoulder, and Zagreus looked up to see Charon holding a steaming hot cup of what was, hopefully, a totally normal latte, and not another one of Hypnos’ creations. “Ah, thanks, mate.”

With a grunt of irritation, Charon finally handed Zagreus his coffee and shuffled back into the shadows of the kitchen. The swinging doors clattered loudly against the various swinging paper hearts blown around by Charon’s sweeping movements.

Zagreus took that as his cue to leave.

“I should get going now, Hypnos,” Zagreus said, stumbling off the tall stool. The shop seemed to be filling up, which meant that Zagreus was running late late. “See you tomorrow. Thanks for the, uh, coffee.” Coffee was one thing to call it, yess.

Hypnos waved him off lazily, head lolling against the headrest of his chair as he slowly but surely took the orders coming in.

“And remember, if you really do manage to fuck it up, we’re open til ten!” his sing-song voice trailed after Zagreus. The offer remained in his head hours after the fact.

It remained in his head when he met up with Thanatos that night, and it remained as, during the surprisingly nice and tasteful fountain show that Hypnos had somehow arranged, Thanatos told him about his job transfer. 

It had been forgotten, temporarily, in the haze that had clouded his mind as he began shouting at Thanatos, and Thanatos began shouting back. At some point, Zagreus had shoved Thanatos into the fountain and stalked away.

Zagreus had been stomping through the haze of sleet on his way back home when he had finally remembered Hypnos’ offer. 

It had probably been made as a joke, but it was cold outside, and the coffee shop was still open. Zagreus was there before he realized it, barely noticing how cold and numb his feet are from walking through the grey slush that covered the sidewalk. He clambered down the steps to Erebus, shivering and clutching his coat closer to him. He had worn his nicest—though admittedly thinnest—coat in an attempt to impress Thanatos. And look where it had got him.

The door opened up with the chime of bells as Zagreus pushed his way inside. The air inside is warm, wrapping Zagreus up in a blanket of warmth and soaking into his bones. He had only ever ordered coffee in the morning, something to start the day off bright eyed and bushy tailed. But the feeling of entering the coffee shop after a long, cold day and letting his exhaustion wash away. . .

It felt nice. Comforting. Safe.

“Welcome to—Oh, hey Zagreus!” A familiar voice and face popped into view. 

Zagreus realized that he had never seen Hypnos at the end of the work day, either.

Hypnos was still wearing his hot pink sweater, but brown splotches of coffee stains laced the edges of his sleeves and the apron he wore was dusted lightly with what looked like powdered sugar. He had probably been asleep for a while; there was a red splotch running across his cheek from where it had been resting on top of the register and his usually fluffed up grey curls were pressed flat against his forehead.

The bags under his eyes were even a shade darker than usual, Zagreus noticed as Hypnos tilted his head in concern.

“Wow, you look terrible . Wait a minute, did my brother dump you? Woah!” Hypnos loudly shouted in shock, startling the few customers who still milled about. 

“Shhh! Be quiet,” Zagreus whispered sharply, choosing to ignore what was obviously a look of disappointment on Charon’s face. Who was he even betting money against? “Thanatos didn’t dump me, for your information. We just had a misunderstanding.”

“Of course he didn’t. Don’t worry about whatever you did, Zagreus, I bet you’ll win him back next time you see him!” Hypnos said gently.

“I didn’t do anything—”

“There, there. Don’t get so worked up!” Hypnos tutted, patting Zagreus’ head like a patronizing kindergarten teacher. 

For the umpteenth time in his life, Zagreus cursed how tall Hypnos was compared to him. He blames whatever freakish tall-person genes Nyx possessed for the fact that every single one of her children stood at least an entire head above Zagreus. 

Still, the warm weight of Hypnos’ hand against his scalp was oddly pleasant. Hypnos curled his fingers, gently combing down and carding through what Zagreus knew was a stiff and tangled snarl of hair. There was a little scritch behind his ear, and Zagreus remembered offhandedly that Hypnos had always been good with animals. He wondered if Hypnos pet his cats like this. 

It’d be nice to be one of his cats, actually. They had it good. Way better than Zagreus did—

Zagreus blinked. Time to close that dangerous train of thought before it went anywhere weird. 

He batted away at the invading hand, only feeling half sorry at the small whine that Hypnos makes in response. He was here to vent and drink a venti, not engage in. . . whatever this was that Hypnos was trying to do with him.

“. . . Do you really think I can win him back?” Zagreus asked. Between ruining Thanatos’ brand new coat and getting angry about his promotion, Zagreus had accumulated more than a couple strikes against himself. At this rate, the two of them wouldn’t even be on speaking terms by the time Thanatos’ departure date arrived.

Hypnos popped the freezer door open, eyes scanning through the jumbled pile of frozen treats. Zagreus didn’t even think this coffee shop even sold ice cream. Maybe it was a seasonal thing. 

Hypnos blindly grabbed a fistfull of them and dumped them on the counter in front of Zagreus. Charon, it seemed, had quite the array of frozen desserts. There were even some odd imported things, and flavors that Zagreus decided had been imagined in a fever dream. What the hell was an octopus curry flavored popsicle?

Hypnos continued his chatter while Zagreus nervously looked around for any sign of an angry Charon. Better to be safe than sorry when it came to touching that man’s possessions. 

“Of course! You have all the time in the world, anyway. It’s not like you’ll never see each other again! Hey, what ice cream do you—” 

Zagreus flinched at Hypnos’ words. All the time in the world?

“So you don’t—So Thanatos hasn’t told you either, Hypnos?” Zagreus pressed, scrambling to stand. That made no sense! 

And then Zagreus met Hypnos’ eyes and saw—

“Told me what?” Hypnos cocked his head to the side, and Zagreus could feel the dull pain of his nails digging into the skin of his palm from how tightly his hands were clenched. 

Somehow, the knowledge that he hadn’t been the only one left out of the loop was of no comfort to him. And with Hypnos, especially. . . Zagreus knew the twins weren’t close at all, but Thanatos was being transferred to Europe . Zagreus knew that was a pretty big life decision, he’d think that the subject would’ve cropped up at least once in conversations between them. At least a quick mention, a “Hey, Hypnos, I’m going off to Europe and never seeing you again, just thought I’d let you know,” something along the lines of what Zagreus had gotten.

Zagreus looked at Hypnos, taking in his exhausted smile that seemed to waver at the edges and the way his hazel eyes seem to flick side-to-side nervously. The nails bitten shorter than Zagreus had seen before, the quiver to his voice as he feigned nervousness. Not to mention the amount of effort he had taken into setting up the fountain show, and the way Hypnos behaved seemed to suggest that he was staking something far more important than money whenever he tried to set up Thanatos and Zagreus together, and—oh.

Zagreus dropped the ice pop he had been holding. 

Oh.

How long had Hypnos known?

____

Sitting in the taxi speeding down the interstate as fast as legally possible, Zagreus wonders when Hypnos had first found out about his twin’s plans to run off to Europe and become some cool corporate executive something-or-another. Had it been days before Zagreus had? Weeks? Or even whole months?

Hypnos hadn’t so much as blinked when Zagreus suggested he help him with his dramatic airport confession. He had only grinned and begun suggesting movies to use as reference, writing a list down on a napkin while Charon glowered at the two of them and the steadily growing line behind Zagreus.

When Zagreus had even brought up the topic, nervously mentioning it to Hypnos a few days after Valentine’s, Hypnos had deflected with a surprising amount of skill; Zagreus had barely even registered the topic of conversation had completely changed until Hypnos was already waving him out the door. Zagreus hadn’t attempted to breach the subject again. If Hypnos didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t going to press.

(Not even if Zageus really, really wanted to.)

But Zagreus did have his suspicions, when he thought back on everything after the fact. The pieces of the puzzle had been strewn everywhere, hidden across their regular conversations and everyday encounters. Little things that Hypnos had said, odd and off-handed references to events and complex familial issues that Zagreus had no hope of ever truly understanding.

There was one day that stands out in particular to Zagreus. 

At the time, he had just written it up as Hypnos being  his unpredictable self and gone with it. In hindsight, Zagreus realizes, this had probably been around the time that Thanatos had gotten news of his possible transfer.

He must have told Nyx, who would have informed Hypnos about the matter. Or maybe Zagreus was mixing things up. Maybe Thanatos had told Hypnos first; they were twins, after all. Oh! Or perhaps Hypnos had found out before Thanatos had, with all the odd connections he had forged from all those years as Hades’ personal secretary! And then there was the question of where Charon fit into all this. . .

Zagreus shakes the thoughts off before he gets too tangled in the web of details.

The specifics don’t matter. What was done was done, and regardless of the order of who found out first, the outcome had still been the same.

____

“So I heard you met up with Thanatos again! And after so long, too” Hypnos chirped, his feet kicked up on the counter and his wheely chair leaned back at the lowest setting.

Zagreus had been hanging out for the last hour; it had been an unusually slow day at the flower shop and his mother had given him the go ahead to take the rest of the day off. Evidently, it had been a slow day at Erebus as well, the kind that resulted in lengthy nap breaks and Charon retreating into the depths of his shop to do whatever he did on quiet days. 

Zagreus imagined he was probably messing around with his checkbooks or checking the stocks. Or perhaps he was illicitly moving assets to an offshore bank account in order to fudge his tax records, or whatever a ludicrously rich person would do. Maybe he was just sending Hermes nudes or something. 

Well, whatever it was that occupied Charon at the moment, it had left Zagreus alone with Hypnos—meaning that Zagreus was also left alone with his invasive questioning.

After a moment's pause, Hypnos clicked the pen in his hand, brandishing it threateningly at Zagreus’ throat. His face was devoid of his previous mirth as he spoke “Now spill. What, when, how, where, why .”

“Er, what are you asking about? And why?” Zagreus asked, eyes fixed on the surprisingly sharp pen point that was currently aimed at his jugular. Was this some kind of test? Like an, “are you good enough for my brother?” kind of test? Zagreus had never pinned the Hypnos as the protective sort when it came to Thanatos. 

At his complete and utter befuddlement, Hypnos huffed, inching his face even closer to Zagreus and letting the point of the pen prod deeper into Zagreus’ neck. Zagreus winced.

“Because,” Hypnos began, dragging out each syllable with a sing-song voice, “ You are going to need a wingman, and I’d like to know what we’re working with here.”

The only thing Zagreus felt in response to this completely random and lucrious state of Hypnos’ is a very confused sort of insult. Insult, because Hypnos was obviously looking down on him somehow , but Zagreus had zero idea what exactly Hypnos was finding lacking about him.

Distant memories of a brief college fling with Meg aside, Zagreus had made sure that the only information about his love life that Hypnos was privy to concerned Zagreus’ successful dates. Of which there were very few.

. . . Fine, so Hypnos might have a few valid worries about how this was going to pan out. But he was jumping to conclusions!

“What makes you think that I’m even interested in Thanatos in that way. . . or that I’d actually act on those—and I must emphasize this—completely hypothetical feelings?” Zagreus leaned away from the pen point and pushed it to the side with his finger. Unfortunately, Hypnos was not so easily discouraged, rapping the pen against Zagreus’ knuckles in reproach.

“Really now?” Hypnos snorted. “Reeaaally nooow. . .?” He repeated, letting the words hang in the air and tilting his head in his hands to watch Zagreus grow increasingly uncomfortable. He was far better at psychological warfare than physical torture, Zagreus realized. 

A trait shared by all in his family, barring Charon perhaps. But this exception was only because Zagreus had the misfortune of experiencing Charon’s frightening strength and brutality first hand.

“Yes, Hypnos, really now. And if you’re going to continue pressing me with these increasingly invasive questions, I might just consider visiting some other establishment for my morning coffee, ” Zagreus blustered, swinging his leg off the stool and preparing to walk out. He’d come back the next day, obviously, but he had to make good on his threat if he ever wanted this newfound torment to stop.

At Zagreus' words, a loud and guttural groan echoed from somewhere deeper in the building and there was the rustle of a door slamming as Charon creeped out of his office-slash-storeroom. 

Hypnos squeaked, and the consequences of allowing Erebus’ only regular to stop visiting flashed through his mind. Whatever he imagined didn’t look too good.

While Hypnos had a soft spot in Charon’s cold, dead heart, Charon’s profit margin held an even softer spot.

Hypnos pulled the closest thing he could grab—a ratty looking lap blanket—over his head in a severe underestimation of Charon’s object permanence. Looking at how frightened Hypnos was, Zagreus almost felt bad at invoking Charon’s wrath to get Hypnos off his back.

“F-Fine, fine, I’ll back off. What do I know, anyway? It’s not like any of my super useful advice has ever helped you,” Hypnos said dramatically, the boldness of his words contrasting harshly against all the cowering he was doing underneath his lap blanket. “Oh wait, you’ve never actually taken it!”

“The last time I took your advice, Meg punched me in the face!” Zagreus retorted. And it had hurt. A lot.

There were many reasons that he had his doubts about this so-called advice. Firstly, the majority of the advice Hypnos had dispensed landed somewhere between nonsensical rubbish and actually completely awful. Secondly, the few nuggets of decent wisdom that Hypnos had imparted were almost always taken from movies and books that Hypnos had watched and read. 

It was a statement in and of itself that Hypnos rarely (if ever) took his own advice to heart.

“Well, I did remind you about her mean right hook,” Hypnos tutted, as if that particular tid-bit of info helped his case, “But don’t worry! This time I’m one hundred percent rooting for you, so I’ll actually be giving you some helpful advice!”

“ This time—Wait, so you didn’t actually want to help me those other times—” Zagreus realized, and was about to continue before Hypnos suddenly cut him off.

“But that’s in the past, right? Right!” It was most certainly not in the past, Zagreus begged to differ, but Hypnos plowed ahead before he could get a word in, “And really, who better to help you get with Thanato than me, his twin brother!”

“I don’t know, maybe Meg, or Nyx, someone he talks to regularly—”

“Yeah, like me!” Hypnos nodded rapidly, letting Zagreus’ words soar right over his head. “Anyway, I bet that you were just planning to throw as many gifts at my brother as you could before he decided to disappear from your life for another couple months. . .”

He had hit the nail right on the head. 

Zagres gulped, averting his eyes as Hypnos stared at him with what was quickly becoming an exasperated glare. “ No . No! You wouldn’t dare.”

“Er, guilty as charged?" Zagreus shrugged, awkwardly, spinning his stool to face a nice, non-judgemental, blank wall. He heard Hypnos sigh melodramatically behind him.

“Wow, you’re really setting the bar low; it’s practically on the ground! Okay, I can’t work with this, just give me a day—no, two days!” Hypnos cackled, and from the corner of his eye, Zagreus watched him spin around in his office chair in excitement. “By next spring, my brother will definitely be head over heels for you, and I definitely wouldn’t have to worry about him leaving—”

Hypnos paused for a split second. The brief silence barely registered to Zagreus, who had been too busy worrying about whatever it was Hypnos had in store for him.

“—on those super-duper long business trips anymore. Because the two of you would be so lovey-dovey you’d be inseparable!”

At the time, Zagreus hadn’t noticed anything was amiss. Sure, Hypnos was acting strange, but when wasn’t he? Long tangents and off-topic mentions of unrelated events were a staple of talking to him. 

Maybe that was why Zagreus didn’t comment on his unusual behavior. Or maybe Zagreus had just been too caught up in his own problems to notice whatever had been going on with Hypnos.

He should have said something . He should have taken a step back to try to figure out what stupidly convoluted scheme Hypnos was cooking up this time. Instead, Zagreus had merely groaned at the unrealistic ideal that Hypnos seemed to be setting for him. 

“Hypnos, you can’t force Thanatos to fall in love with me, you know that? Anyway, I’m pretty sure he’s already married to his job,” Zagreus grumbled. 

If this plan of his blew up in their faces, it would be Zagreus and not Hypnos who had their neck to the chopping block. Hypnos was family, but Thanatos could cut all his ties with Zagreus at a moment's notice.

Hypnos waved off his worries, saying, “Oh, don’t worry, my plan’s absolutely fool-proof!”

Zagreus could have sworn he heard Hypnos tack on to the end something that sounded a lot like, “. . . and I have a lot riding on this, so you better not mess up.”

“What was that last thing you said?” Zagreus asked, turning his chair around to properly face Hypnos.

“Nothing!” Hypnos said. “Nothing at all!”

There was an edge to his voice that told Zagreus to stop digging, or else he’d definitely regret it. Normally, this would only spur Zagreus to keep digging deeper, but the way that Hypnos was white-knuckled gripping the pen in his hands told Zagreus to ease off or risk getting an eye stabbed out.

“. . . Okay,” Zagreus began, with the careful voice and posture of someone dealing with a wild animal, “About your plan. . .” He groaned. What on earth was he getting himself into? “So what exactly do you have in mind, Hypnos?”

Hypnos seemed to perk up at these words, a genuine grin growing on his face.

“I thought you’d never ask! Let’s start with the basics!” With a clap of his hands, Hypnos began jotting down notes on an extra receipt. “Hmm, how did the two of you meet?”

Zagreus gaped. Hypnos was starting that far back?

“Hypnos, you were there . We all met in middle school, remember? In homeroom?” Of course, Hypnos might have been asleep for that. But it hadn’t been anything unusual. They’d said hi, introduced themselves, and that had been that. 

Of course they had talked more after that, especially their parents started bringing them to work in an effort to bolster their enthusiasm for the family business. Thanatos had accepted his expected duty with all the seriousness a thirteen-year old could muster, but for Zagreus and Hypnos, however, their respective parents’ efforts had been. . . less than successful.

“Not that meeting! The whole childhood friends angle is pretty good, but I’m asking about your reunion! Was it a meet-cute? Oh, who am I kidding, it was probably something boring and mundane.” Hypnos sighed in exasperation.

“A meat what-now?” Zagreus asked, the words evoking images of those adorable little Japanese steak-shop mascots that Hypnos had shown him. But that probably wasn’t what Hypnos was talking about

With an irritated, dumbfounded expression, Hypnos pulled out his phone and quickly typed something into the search engine; finding whatever it was that he had been looking for, he cleared his throat.

“A meet-cute,” Hypnos read, speaking with all the air and pomp of a particularly know-it-all professor that Zagreus once had, “is when the two main characters in a rom-com meet. I think? And it’s supposed to be cute, like, aww, aren’t they just meant for each other? That sort of cute! That’s why it’s called a meet-cute, they meet and it’s cute! At least that’s what they say online. So don’t you tell me that you and my brother just ran into each other and had a chat over a nice brunch, or else I’m going to have to seriously rewrite my game plan.”

“Does bumping into him at the grocery, only for Than to loudly denounce my life choices and stalk off, count?” Zagreus wondered, “Because that doesn’t seem very cute—”

“That’s perfect!” Hypnos exclaimed, practically scrambling onto the countertop in his excitement. “I can see it now; you, free spirited but down on your luck, and my brother, stuffy but successful. Despite your various differences and misunderstandings along the way, you can’t help but rekindle those flames of passion that you thought had been extinguished all those years ago, and Thanatos realizes that what he really wanted in life. . . was love.”

Zagreus considered Hypnos’ words. That sounded enticing. Incredibly unrealistic and cheesy as hell, but enticing. He sighed, trying to distance himself from the allure of this perfect world that Hypnos had concocted. “Can you please stop treating my life like some kind of movie? And what do you mean, down on my luck?” Zagreus was doing perfectly fine .

“Don’t think too hard about it! I’m just exaggerating things for the drama, setting up a more straightforward contrast between the two leads. Oh, and by that I’m talking about you and my brother! ” Hypnos said, most definitely treating it all like a movie. 

There was a long pause as Zagreus considered his options. On one hand, he could nip this in the bud and attempt to salvage whatever good will Thanatos still had for him, ply Than with gifts, and hopefully get close enough that the two of them would luckily still be on speaking terms by the time that Zagreus managed to build up the confidence to actually ask him out. If Zagreus ever did.

His only other option—if Zagreus actually decided to go along with whatever harebrained scheme that Hypnos had cooked up—would more likely than not end in his utter estrangement from Thanatos, a sizable dent in his pocket from whatever services Hypnos would no doubt arrange through Charon, as well as more likely than not the complete humiliation that would ensue, as it always did when Zagreus actually attempted to follow Hypnos’ advice.

It was obvious what choice Zagreus should make. 

The safest, most logical path to take.

“I’m really going to regret this. . . but,” Zagreus paused, taking a deep breath, “. . .tell me what you want me to do.”

A wicked grin bloomed across Hypnos’ face.

Fear is for the weak, Zagreus had been told. And what did he have to lose?

____

The thin layer of ice that coats the sidewalk cracks underneath Zagreus’ feet. It was almost March, but it seemed this unusually long winter would linger for even longer. Come to think of it, hadn’t that groundhog predicted it would be an early spring? What a liar.

The streets in this area were too narrow for cars to pass through, forcing Zagreus to continue heading towards Erebus on foot. Tall brownstones lined the road, narrowly packed together like sticks of gum in a box. Greenish moss had begun to creep over their reddish bricks and the windows were frosted with dust; Zagreus had a feeling that most of these houses hadn't felt the touch of human hands in years.

There aren’t many pedestrians passing through the area, the combination of the cold and the dark driving off all but the most intrepid visitors. Another unfortunate side effect of the area was the wind, blowing bits of ice sharply against Zagreus. They sting at his exposed skin, and take off bits of wilted petals in their path when Zagreus tries to find cover behind his bouquet.

It’s in pitiful condition now, all but dead in the harsh winter weather. Leaves hang crookedly in all sorts of directions, stems snapped from his tussle trying to yank the huge arrangement outside of the half-opened cab door. So much for a romantic gesture, Zagreus thinks. Still, he refuses to throw it away. 

The bouquet had made it this far; Zagreus had made it this far. Throwing away this bouquet would be tantamount to giving up.

He presses onwards, doing his best to ignore the way the damp wrapping paper crinkles sadly against his soaked jacket, or the fact that the flowers—most of which he didn’t even recognize in the first place—are now even more unrecognizable. 

Now, it just looks like a bundle of brown and a different shade of brown, tied with a pretty bow and some fancy wrapping paper. Icy rain begins to fall as Zagreus continues walking, adding insult to injury.

Fortunately, Zagreus had been prepared for something like this happening, and had brought an umbrella with him when he headed to the airport.

Unfortunately, he had left said umbrella in the car. 

Even more unfortunately, the umbrella had been his mother’s.

By the time Zagreus finally rounds the corner and sees Erebus, he’s soaking wet and well on his way to succumbing to hypothermia. 

He’s already received a few worried texts from his mother—and, whoops, Zagreus realizes that he had forgotten to tell her he wouldn’t be able to open up the shop this morning—and to make matters worse, a notable number of her texts also concern her missing umbrella. Zagreus isn’t sure what to say. He decides to wait until he’s inside to come up with a good response, preferably with a good and hot cup of coffee.

He is in no way procrastinating.

Charon sits on the steps just outside Erebus, his tall body hunched over as he perches on the front stoop like some huge, horrible bird. Thick ribbons of smoke curl around the edges of his hat, the cigarette in his mouth glowing a bright orange under the shade of his wide brim.

He’s completely engrossed in texting someone. Who it is, Zagreus has no idea, because Charon immediately switches to idly scrolling through his emails the moment he notices Zagreus’ gaze.

Charon grunts something out, gesturing to the door. The interior of Erebus is as dark as always, the frosted glass obscuring any details Zagreus might have seen otherwise.

“Oh, is it closed? I can come again later,” Zagreus says, slowly backing up. He had never visited this early, and it just occurred to him that Charon had never actually written down the formal opening and closing times anywhere.

Charon shakes his head, pointing at the door once again with even more emphasis. He huffs out another plume of smoke, returning once more to texting on his phone.

“Oh, I guess it’s open, then?” Zagreus gets no response from Charon, just another groan of irritation. He’ll take that as a yes.

He presses his hand against the door and presses. The door remains firmly shut. Zagreus presses again, harder. Charon must hear him futilely banging at the glass door, because he groans loudly and makes a pulling gesture.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Zagreus shoots back at Charon, “You know I’m used to the push doors at my place, right?”

Charon rolls his eyes, his attention returning to his phone as it buzzes in response to whatever text he had sent. He grumbles and waves Zagreus off with a flippant gesture when Zagreus commits the sin of standing there stupidly for too long.

“Why yes, Charon, I am a regular. I’m your only regular, last time I checked,” Zagreus mutters, carefully maneuvering the bouquet in his hands to awkwardly pull the door open. It swings open with little resistance, and Zagreus slips inside.

While the world outside is bright and freezing, the inside of Erebus is dark and warm. The bitter scent of coffee and the savory smells of fresh gyros mix in the still air, and Zagreus hears his stomach rumble in Pavlovian response.

How many times had he walked through these familiar doors? How many times had he felt his troubles melt away temporarily in the warmth of the coffee shop?

The motions were practically ingrained into his body at this point, the long jog from his apartment to the coffee shop a route Zagreus could navigate blind-folded.

The clinking of bells signals his entrance, and Zagreus watches Hypnos jump to life, popping out from his nest of blankets like a meerkat. His movements are stiff and jerky, his hand roughly rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he tries and fails to sit up straight at his station at the register. Slumped up against the counter like that, Hypnos looks like a rejected muppet, his eye mask giving Zagreus a wide, cartoonish stare. 

“Ugh, I’m up, I’m up!” Hypnos groans, kicking out his feet in his panic and sending his chair into a dizzying spin. “Are we opening up early or something, Charon?” 

He flips up his sleeping mask and takes a second to gape at Zagreus. “Ha ha, you’re not Charon. I’m just going to. . . go over there for a sec, ‘kay?”

Hypnos briskly walks behind the swinging doors of the kitchen. 

There are a few seconds of complete silence, and then Zagreus hears him let out a shrill, eardrum-bursting scream.

____

When Zagreus  had first walked into Erebus, he hadn’t been aware that Hypnos was working there as a cashier. He knew that Charon had recently opened a coffee shop, yes, and he was also aware that Hypnos had recently been sacked but had luckily found a new job, but it never occurred to him that the two events had any connection to each other until he finally arrived at the front of the line and was greeted by a familiar face.

“Welcome to the House of—Uh, I mean Erebus!” is the greeting he had received from Hypnos, who looked to be extremely preoccupied with getting his welcome correct, to the point that Zagreus had given his order and his name before Hypnos let out a whoop of recognition.

“Zagreus?! Is that really you? Woah, you sure look like a wreck ! Hey, did you just get fired too?” Hypnos chipperly asked, practically leaning across the counter in his excitement.

Ah, this familiar blunt honesty that slapped across his face like a physical strike. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Zagreus did his best to not take offence to his words, he knew Hypnos meant no insult with them, but wow was it hard .

“Why thank you, Hypnos,” Zagreus bit out through clenched teeth, “Glad to see that you haven’t changed a bit.”

From both a physical and mental standpoint, Hypnos appeared to have changed very little since Zagreus last saw him. Maybe his silver flyaways were just a touch longer and more frazzled, and he had thankfully stopped wearing those awful little preppy sweater-vests that Nyx forced him into, but other than that, Hypnos had changed very little in the last four years.

“Wait a minute,” Zagreus began, noticing something else glaringly out of order, “Hypnos, are you wearing contacts ?”

Indeed, his golden eyes were free of the familiar set of frames; Zagreus now had a direct view of every eyelash and crease as Hypnos stared at him unblinkingly.

Years ago, Hypnos had always insisted on the glasses, swearing to keep wearing them even when Thanatos had switched to contacts, citing the ease of sleeping whenever and wherever he pleased when he wasn’t busy worrying about taking out contacts or making sure they were stored properly.

“Oh yeah, yeah, no,” Hypnos said, waving a hand in front of his eyes. “No contacts here! The text on the registers is way bigger than I’m used to, so I decided, why not just ditch the glasses at work? It’s so much easier to sleep without them in the way!”

Zagreus sighed in relief. Hypnos really hadn’t changed. 

A lumbering mass of black silk and gold jewelry shambled from what Zagreus assumed was the kitchen, giving Hypnos a small pinch on the arm in warning. Charon grunted, shuffling to the other end of the counter and turning on the display case lights, which hummed and flickered loudly. He walked back into the kitchen, soon emerging with an armful of—

“Erm, excuse me Charon, but are those. . . gyros that you’ve got there?” Zagreus asked, pausing for a moment to make sure they weren’t just some monumentally messed up looking crepes. 

But yeah, no, those are definitely some gyros.

The savory scent of the spiced meats and tzatziki wafted from what Zagreus had initially assumed was the pastry display case. Then again, he remembered, Charon had always detested eating or making overly sweet things, and Hypnos was more likely to blow up the kitchen than make anything safe for human consumption. Pastries were never an option.

Charon glared with Zagreus, challenging him to say something else about it.

“How. . . unique?” Zagreus said, trying to figure out what Charon was trying to get him to say. Granted, they probably tasted delicious with coffee, but it was still quite a stretch to keep them in a case that was definitely made for pastries. Little etched cupcakes decorated the edges of the glass and the words “ pastry display case ” were even written on the metal siding. Where had Charon even gotten it?

Charon maintained his unblinking eye contact, his pale eyes glowing purple behind those weird sunglasses of his. Zagreus tried to find something else to say—anything, really—to get Charon off his case. He looked towards Hypnos who looked unhelpfully away, now suddenly concerned with doing his job correctly.

“Wow! Yum, it looks. . . delicious?” Zagreus tried.

Charon looked unconvinced.

“. . . Coffee and gyros, what an ingenious idea! I would never have come up with that!” Zagreus tried once more.

Charon was beginning to look irritated. Really irritated.

“Fine!” Zagreus exclaimed, using his last resort, “I’ll buy one! How much?”

With a pleased, croaking hum, Charon writes something on the hanging blackboard sign behind the counter. Each and every click of the chalk sends another spike of stress to Zagreus’ wallet.

“You know, this is highway robbery,” Zagreus mutters, shelling out a painful amount of cash and handing it all over to Charon. It seemed that—regardless of whether he worked in an office or a kitchen—Charon was fully willing to threaten and blackmail his way into profit. Maybe that was why Hades had never fired him, despite Charon’s unpersonable behavior with clients and his tendency to openly criticize his boss.

Charon pocketed the money, grabbing a gyro and dropping it into Zagreus’ hand with a splat. It sagged limply in his hand as Zagreus regarded it. With a price tag like this, those gyros had better be magic.

He hadn’t even figured out his order yet, but he’s already spent most of the cash in his wallet. If Zagreus had known this place would be cash-only, he’d have brought more, but—

“Are you getting anything, or are you just going to, y’know, hold up the line?” Hypnos piped up. In the time that Zagreus and Charon had continued their staring match, Hypnos had dispatched the rest of the customers and sent them on their way to wait for their order.

Charon groaned, retreating back to prepare more drinks, and Zagreus was finally, finally free to peruse the menu. The drinks were a little pricey, but everything looked pretty bog-standard. Zagreus closed his eyes and picked something randomly off the menu. 

“Card please,” Hypnos said, holding out his hand. Zagreus opened up his wallet, and then he paused.

“What?”

“You know, your card? Unless you don’t plan on paying, of course. I don’t think my brother would like that, though!” Hypnos laughed at his own joke as Zagreus stood there confused.

“Uh, I thought Charon said this place was cash-only? At least, that was what he had implied. . .”

Hypnos tilted his head. “Huh? Then what do I have this card reader here for, silly?” He poked his head up, calling out to Charon, “We take cards right?”

Charon nodded as he walked past on his way to place some drinks at the counters. Zagreus could hear the loud jingling as his hard earned cash clinked together Charon’s deep pockets as he glided by. Charon snorted at Zagreus’ dumbfounded expression.

What the hell.

What did Charon even gain from the extra cash? Was he getting some kind of sick entertainment at Zagreus’ expense? Or did he just like the feel of actual money? The smell? 

. . . Actually, Zagreus preferred not to know

He handed his card over to Hypnos, who had already launched himself into a long and rambling explanation of his day so far, his hands gesticulating wildly.

“—so then, Charon was like, hhnnnnrrgghhh, and I was like, whoah, seriously? And he really meant it! But then I had to go to the bathroom, and I wasn’t there so I wasn’t actually there to see when Hermes—” He looked down at the monitor and tapped some buttons on the screen. “Oh, your total is nine sixty-nine. Nice!” The card reader beeped, and Zagreus removed his debit card. Hypnos resumed speaking. ”—So that was a bit of a shame. Oh, but then only an hour after that, who do I see walk in here but you! I think the last time I saw you, you still had that black eye from Meg! Isn’t that funny?”

“Uh, sure?” Zagreus said, shrugging. Hypnos didn’t seem to notice his confusion at all, continuing to talk. It seemed he had completely gone off track from his previous thought and was now talking about something that had happened to him last week.

“—but my laundry was still in there! So I call mom, and she doesn’t pick up, of course, so I have to call Thanatos. Would you believe that he had been at work? At one in the afternoon? Those are some prime siesta hours, as you know, and he was totally wasting them—”

“Mhm, yeah. A shame, really,” Zagreus nodded along, idly watching the silver curls bounce up and down with every frantic gesture. He was surprisingly energetic for someone who was more often than not asleep. Maybe he had drunk some coffee. One of the perks of working here and having Charon as a brother. Or the explanation for this change was merely the change in scenery, just like the absence of his glasses.

It was a good change, Zagreus decided. Hypnos looked happier.

“—and it turned out my cat had stolen my socks, which you can imagine was a huge problem. Wait, did I tell you about my cat? I think I got her sometime after you left. Oh, she’s really cute, remind me to send you pictures!”

Hypnos had already pulled out his phone and was fiddling with it—to Charon’s obvious ire—when he paused suddenly and looked at Zagreus.

“Hey, now that I think about it, I never got your phone number.” He laughed nervously, setting his phone on the countertop with a loud clatter. “Not that you would have any reason to stay in touch after, you know, dropping out of college and running away from home! Man, if I knew that option was open. . . ”

Had he. . . really felt like that? Zagreus felt a surprising amount of guilt smack into him at Hypnos’ words. “I. . . I didn’t mean to leave so suddenly, my father, he—”

“Oh yeah, your dad. Man, was he furious ! Although I think he was expecting you to just turn up somewhere after a couple of days, give up, you know? And my brother, he didn’t take it too well either, heh.”

Zagreus flinched at the mention of Thanatos. When he had left, Thanatos had still been off at college, finishing up his degree. The last conversation the two of them had shared had been something mundane, something about a box of pinned butterflies Thanatos had gotten Zagreus for his birthday. 

Shortly after, Thanatos had gotten swamped with finals and told Zagreus to not bother him for the time being. By the time he had returned home for the holidays, Zagreus was already gone.

“That reminds me,” Hypnos interrupted his thoughts, “Did you two stay in touch? I kept pestering him about it, but he refused to tell me! Was he the one who told you about this place?”

Ugh, Zagreus winced as Hypnos unknowingly touched at another sore spot. He really had a talent for finding people’s weaknesses and gouging into them verbally.

“I—No, I haven’t talked to Than in a long time. He tried to call me, a few months after I left, but nothing else after that. . .” Zagreus sighed. He had hung up the moment Thanatos had begun to speak, stressed and anxious about what he could even say to explain himself; Thanatos, based on the few texts he had sent Zagreus after, had been livid—or at least as livid as someone who’s first response to any conflict was to leave the room could be.

At Zagreus’ response, Hypnos sighed. 

If he had been just a bit more eagle-eyed and just a bit less wrapped up in his own troubles, Zagreus might have noticed that Hypnos was sighing in relief. But he wasn’t that observant.

“Don’t worry, Hypnos! Here, let’s exchange numbers and you can send me as many pictures of your cat as you want!” Zagreus offered, grabbing Hypnos’ phone from his hands and entering in his phone number. This seemed to perk Hypnos right up, a giggle bubbling up from him.

“Oh, will I ever! Okay, so here’s Poppy when I first got her! Isn’t she absolutely adorable? Oh! And this one is the day after, on the first morning we ever shared together! Woah, and this one is—”

By the time that Charon finally slid Zagreus his drink, Hypnos had managed to send him enough photos of his pet cat that Zagreus’ phone had completely run out of storage. Most of them were duplicates, too. Just dozens upon dozens of photos of the frizzy mess of grey fuzz slightly changing position in each picture. 

Apparently, Hypnos had begun living with Charon in his snazzy little penthouse apartment after Nyx had thrown him out in an attempt to bolster his independence. Zagreus might have argued that this action had the opposite effect, considering Hypnos now lived rent-free with a rich older brother who, aside from exploiting the free labor Hypnos provided, was fine with following the majority of his various whims.

Sure, this was probably only because the two of them enabled the other’s unhealthy habits, but it was nice to know someone else that Zagreus knew had broken free from the unfortunate fate of becoming like one of their parents. Now if only Thanatos was willing to give it a go.

“Hey Hypnos, it was really nice talking to you and. . . getting sent cat pictures. . . but I should be heading out,” Zagreus said, sliding off the stool. The activity coffee shop had died down a little since Zagreus had walked in, only a handful of people meandering around and finishing their drinks now, and even less ordering their drinks.

Hypnos crossed his arms in mock dismay. “Aw, but you just got here! C’mon, it’s almost my break—” At these words, Charon shot a sharp glare at Hypnos and Zagreus made the logical assumption that no such break existed. “—and we can hang out even longer and I can walk you back to wherever it is you’re going.”

“Erm, you really don’t have to. I’m sure my mother is waiting for me to help her close up anyway, so I really can’t stay any longer. And unless you fancy meeting her and promptly being invited over for dinner, you should stay here,” Zagreus said, looking off at a wall before Hypnos brought up his kicked-puppy expression. Not to mention, Charon looked ready to turn Zagreus into a gyro if he allowed Hypnos to walk out on the workday.

“Oh, your mom would love me!” Hypnos insisted, totally missing the battle of stares that was going one between Zagreus and Charon.

Of course she would , Zagreus thought, because you’re a funny little clown man, Hypnos, and if I find you adorable she definitely would . But this would result in Charon ripping his intestines out through his mouth, so Zagreus quickly backtracks. “Well, that still might not be a good idea. Uh, because of your pollen allergy, remember? You’d hate to meet my mother with your nose all drippy, won’t you?”

“Oh yeah!” Hypnos exclaimed, remembering the fact that combining severe pollen allergies with flower shops would predictably lead to disastrous results. Charon nodded in agreement.

“Yeah! I’d love to stay and chat, but I really need to go—” Zagreus began, making his way off the door. In a flash, Hypnos snagged Zagreus’ sleeve with one gangly arm, sending him to a halt.

“W—Wait, before you go,” Hypnos said, his body half draped over the counter and his face hanging over the edge, “You’re coming back right? Because I was thinking, what if you become our first regular? And then we could continue talking more and, I don’t know,” He mumbled out something else that was retracted and replaced with a curt “. . . and maybe we could be friends?”

It was odd of Hypnos to be acting so bashful, but it had been several years since they had last seen each other. Maybe he was just that desperate to see a familiar face again.

“Of course,” Zagreus said with a laugh. “But aren’t we already friends, Hypnos?”

The look on Hypnos’ face was almost worth the small fortune Zagreus would later spend on overpriced lattes and gyros.

____

“Hey, Hypnos, are you alright?” Zagreus calls out into the kitchen after a moment’s hesitation. He still hadn’t returned after his little screaming session. 

“Oh yeah, I’m a-okay! Just, uh, let’s have a teensy-weensy do-over, so can you go back outside and come back in?” Hypnos weakly replies from behind the kitchen doors. Zagreus can see his silver cloud of hair pressed up against the window as Hypnos bodily barricaded himself within the pitch-black kitchen.

Personally, Zagreus considered this a bit of an overreaction, but then again, who was the one who decided to break into an airport carrying a large bouquet?

Hypnos. Hypnos was the one who had told him to do it.

“Okay?” Zagreus answers, walking outside. He climbs the steps and sees Charon, still outside with his cigarette. Charon looks at him, then looks at the door. He heaves out a long, beleaguered sigh, and returns his attention to his phone with a disappointed hunch to his hunched shoulders.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Zagreus yells, feeling personally insulted by Charon’s judging stare. “I have no idea what’s going on!”

Of course you don’t, says the sort of miffed look Charon gives him.

Zagreus gives Hypnos twenty seconds to prepare himself, and with every second that passes by, Zagreus is forced to endure Charon’s dull but crushing scrutiny, as his pale stare slams straight into Zagreus’ soul with the weight of all of his dismay. 

Or maybe his stocks were tanking and Charon was just pissed off. That had the same effect.

“—eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Okay, ready or not Hypnos, here I come,” Zagreus says, bursting back into the coffee shop. In the twenty seconds he had been out, Hypnos had managed to get into his usual position, casually napping at the counter. 

It was creepy, actually, how fast he was able to do it. How often was he just pretending to doze off, Zagreus wondered, and since when had he started doing it?

Hypnos pops his head up from his blanket pile, mouth fixed up into an easygoing smile. His eye mask hangs limply around his neck, sinking into his loose hoodie.

“Welcome to—Oh, it’s you!” Hypnos says, not a single trace of his original flub remaining. “Wha—Hey, wait a minute! You’re supposed to be at the airport right now, aren’t you?” He says, the words falling so naturally from his lips that Zagreus can hardly believe that he had been screaming in the kitchen only seconds earlier. “Don’t tell me that Thanatos really dumped you, not with that script you wrote and everything? Actually, I had a feeling that might happen, so I have some ideas of what you should do next—”

“Hypnos,” Zagreus says flatly.

Hypnos continues rambling. “—so if we can’t get my brother to come to you, you have to come to my brother! I bet Charon can fix us up with some plane tickets and—”

“Hypnos,” Zagreus tries again.

“—I guess the bouquet angle didn’t work, but have you considered my suggestion of putting together a mixtape and standing outside his window with a boombox, because I think—”

“ Hypnos! ” Zagreus finally raises his voice, interrupting Hypnos mid-sentence. “I wasn’t dumped. I just. . . changed my mind.”

Hypnos takes a moment to process his words, before understanding dawns on his face and he leaps out of his office chair with a loud shriek.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

Zagreus plugs his ears, fixing his gaze at the tile floor awkwardly as Hypnos continues.

“But you and my brother—and my plan, my list —” He lets out another loud scream of frustration, burying his head in his arms against the counter. With one last groan, Hypnos raises his head, fixing Zagreus with a glare that could melt through steel, “I’ll give you one sentence, Zagreus. Explain .”

“Uh—” Zagreus thinks for a second. Now that he really thinks about it, why did he change his mind? And what did he change his mind to, actually? This had all been very spur of the moment, really, and he had never done well under pressure so—

“Uh. . .” He begins again, looking around for answers. Chair, table, counter, register, Hypnos, door, floor, bouquet, another chair—Wait, the bouquet!

Zagreus shoves forward the browning, drooping bouquet—now more dead than alive. It lands on the counter with a sad, wet, splat. Hypnos regards it curiously.

“Hypnos,” Zagreus says—the words he wants to say jumbling around and crashing together in his mind—and he tries to string his thoughts together as well as possible.

“. . . I’m not going to try and come up with some perfect movie quote, or something else snappy and memorable, because I’ve tried to do perfect and I’ve tried make it all just like a movie, and I’ve tried to be all those other things. . . but that was all you, wasn’t it— oh, and this is all one sentence, I swear, just a single sentence —but when I was standing there for real, looking straight at Thanatos with this stupid bouquet in my hands in the middle of an airport with some worrying security concerns (like, really worrying), I realized something, something I should have realized sooner; I realized that I’m an idiot, and I realized that maybe what I thought I felt for Than was just me trying to make my past self happy, you know, and then I realized that I’m hopeless, really hopeless, just like you were always saying I was, and that I was hopeless because I just couldn’t accept the sort of happy ending tied up perfectly with a bow that you kept trying to give me— and, uh, sorry, I need a second to figure out what to say next. . . hmm, that works. . . okay, I think I have it now —because I don’t want whatever I just said I didn’t want if you aren’t there with me because it won’t be a happy ending, not without you in it, so this bouquet isn’t for Thanatos, it never was, because it’s for you!” Zagreus says, rushing through what is definitely an intelligible, logical sentence.

He has to catch his breath for a few seconds, wheezing as Hypnos takes a moment to puzzle out whatever it was that he had just heard.

“. . . That was more than one sentence,” is all that Hypnos can say after thinking about for several long moments. “Yeah, that was way more than one sentence. . . I definitely counted at least three. Maybe four.”

“No,” Zagreus insists stubbornly, “That was all one sentence.”

“It really wasn’t.”

He huffs, embarrassed. “Well, any other thoughts?”

Hypnos makes a noncommittal noise, his long and slender fingers picking at the wilted petals and tearing off the particularly dead looking ones. They smush into brown paste in his hands. 

“I’m allergic to pollen,” Hypnos says plainly.

“Erm. . . are you okay? I can, uh, throw it away if you want? There’s a garbage bin out back, it’d probably fit in there.” Zagreus gestures in the direction of the door awkwardly. 

Hypnos stares at him with a blank expression. Had Zagreus. . . had he said something wrong? How else was he supposed to respond?

“You’re such an idiot .” Yeah, Zagreus had just said that. Was Hypnos stating obvious facts at this point, or. . . ? 

This wasn’t the sort of response that Zagreus had been expecting. Granted, he hadn’t been expecting anything, since he was basically flying by the seat of his pants at this point, but this was completely out of left field.

“Do you have anything else to say? A response or a reaction that isn’t—” Zagreus waves his hand around vaguely, trying to find the words to describe what's going on, “ —this ?” He fails to find the words to describe what’s going on.

There’s a snort, and then a giggle, and soon Hypnos is full on laughing, his face buried in his arms against the counter. Zagreus bristles in bewilderment, face flushing in embarrassment.

“I’m glad to see that you’re finding this situation funny,” he says. How nice that someone does—someone other than Charon, at least. Zagreus, on the other hand, wanted to bolt immediately, go home, and go back to bed and stay there forever.

Hypnos seems oblivious to his embarrassment, wiping a single tear away from the corner of his eye before he speaks. Zagreus hopes his crying is from all the laughing— not the beginnings of a severe allergic reaction. 

“Of course I find this situation funny, it’s hilarious! ” Hypnos sputters out, laughing. “You look ridiculous—no offence, but you look like a soaked rat carrying around a bunch of dead flowers—and I still have no idea what’s happening! Seriously, though, what are you doing here?”

Zagreus heaves a sigh. What more did he have to say? What more could he say, to explain himself, when he didn’t even know what he was doing? What else was there left to say?

He settles for a simple gesture, clutching Hypnos’ hands where they lie buried in the pile of wet, wilted petals. Zagreus gives his hand a gentle squeeze; Hypnos’ hands are a little dry and chapped at the joints—he should really moisturize more. Zagreus clears his throat.

“Hypnos, I’m here because I realized—I realized that it wasn’t Than who I wanted to give these flowers to. . . Hypnos, I think I’m in love with you.”

From where their hands are joined together, Zagreus feels Hypnos flinch slightly and then. . . Hypnos is—he’s shaking?

In a panic, Zagreus drops his hands, scrambling to find something to say. 

(He blames his father for his less than excellent response to this situation. And it was Hypnos, of all people. Zagreus had never seen Hypnos shaken up, much less actually, physically shaking.)

Zagreus considers his options. Should he just take it all back? He doesn’t want to take it back. Maybe Hypnos was laughing again, yeah, that makes sense. Everything happening is so utterly ludicrous, no wonder he would laugh.

And then Zagreus notices that Hypnos has tears streaming from his eyes, and realizes that, oh no, he isn’t laughing. Not at all.

“Er, a—are your allergies acting up again? Or did I upset you with what I said? Because I can—”

Hypnos’ vice grip on his cheeks stopped him.

“Zagreus,” Hypnos says evenly, leaning forward. He tugs Zagreus towards him, until he’s practically leaning over the counter and standing on his tip-toes. “Zagreus, you’re so stupid.”

“What—”

And before Zagreus can put a word in edgewise, Hypnos closes the distance.

There’s a single split-second, right before Zagreus really processes what is going on and the shock sets in, when all he can think of is, oh, so Hypnos doesn't wear chapstick . For some reason, Zagreus had always assumed that Hypnos had really soft, plush lips. But, Zagreus supposed, just because he collected soda flavoured chapstick didn’t mean that Hypnos would use it.

Slowly, hesitantly, Hypnos moves his lips, pushing his face deeper into Zagreus. And then it hits with the force of a freight train—the realization that he’s kissing Hypnos, Hypnos is kissing him—and Zagreus feels his brain short-circuit. Hypnos’ chapped lips scrape against his own, awkwardly half-parted lips, and then Hypnos takes the opportunity to nibble teasingly at his bottom lip as Zagreus stands there gobsmacked.

He can feel Hypnos relaxing his hands at the sides of his face, Hypnos’ fingers curling gently into the hair at his temples. Zagreus hears the thrum of his heartbeat in the blood rushing through his ears, so loud that he wonders if Hypnos could hear it too.

The kiss itself is almost shockingly average. Zagreus doesn't know what he had expected, maybe swelling music or fireworks, something as dramatic as the kisses that he had daydreamed about having with Thanatos. Just like in the movies that Hypnos loved so much. 

But no, they just kiss like regular people do. And it’s perfect.

The two of them pull away, briefly and awkwardly shuffling around—the counter and register proving a nuisance that was difficult to ignore.There’s a small, fond smile on Hypnos’ face; Zagreus feels it against his lips as he allows Hypnos to yank him back towards him. The sharp edge of the counter-top digs uncomfortably against his waist, and as Zagreus throws out his hands to steady himself, he feels the squish of his poor bouquet underneath his palms.

There’s a tinkling of bells as the front door opens and Charon walks in, finished with his cigarette. He makes it all the way to the kitchen doors before he freezes and whirls around.

Hypnos waves awkwardly with one hand, the other clutching tight at Zagreus’s jacket to keep him from bolting at the sudden interloper. Charon heaves a heavy sigh and waves back, before turning around and disappearing into the kitchen. 

Zagreus wonders about the exact conditions of his bet; Charon hadn’t looked particularly displeased, but Zagreus had caught a glimpse of him typing something into his phone with a rather unwilling expression. He assumes that Charon had lost the bet, at the very least.

“Oh, don’t mind Charon,” Hypnos titters, finally pulling away completely and clambering over the counter to stand beside Zagreus. “He’s just sulking because he lost that bet he had against Hermes! Well, either that or maybe he forgot to turn the stove off. I thought I smelled something burning.”

And with that, the tension was broken. It was like the clock striking midnight. The world returned to normal, whatever weird magic that had driven Zagreus to such incredible, embarrassing extremes for the last couple months dissipating, like the early morning mist when the sun rises.

Now, Zagreus feels the fresh bruise blooming on his hip from smacking into that counter corner and the sticky wetness of mushed up flowers on his palms. He feels the warmth pressed against his side as Hypnos leans against him. He smells the scent of coffee fill the air as Charon prepares for the morning, and he feels Hypnos grasp at his hand awkwardly.

“What time do you get off work today?” Zagreus asks, brushing his thumb over Hypnos’ hand in his. Hypnos squeaks at the sudden movement.

“I’m free now,” Hypnos replies quickly.

Zagreus blinks, and looks towards the kitchen door. Charon still seems to be preoccupied, thankfully.

“And Charon won’t get angry if you skip work?”

Hypnos makes a so-so motion with his hands, already dragging Zagreus out the door. They emerge to a cloudy, wet day, melted snow puddling in heaps beside the sidewalk. Hypnos pulls up his hood, the rain from earlier having lightened to a dizzle.

 “So this is what the outside world looks like!” Hypnos says jokingly. Or perhaps seriously, considering the fact that Zagreus had never seen him outside of that coffee shop.

Zagreus snorts. “Charon really needs to stop overworking you.”

They walk outside, weaving through the long and narrow streets until Zagreus feels the warmth sunlight on his skin and hears the sound of traffic zooming past, the rows of packed brownstones opening up to the rest of the city. 

Hypnos follows him, an excited expression on his face as he looks around. He looks at the cars speeding past, and all the stores just beginning to open up in the early morning. He looks at Zagreus, who looks back.

“So,” Hypnos begins with a smile on his face, “Where are we going?”

Ordinarily, Zagreus would have been tempted to say something grand, something to impress and amaze. Something straight out of the romance movies that Hypnos was always suggesting to him. Or maybe something cliche and romantic, like a fancy dinner (breakfast?) or the movies.

And then the idea strikes him.

“Hey, Hypnos, did you bring your allergy pills?” Zagreus asks when they get to an intersection. Hypnos rummages through his hoodie pockets, pens and loose change clattering to the floor. His hand finally emerges, triumphant, with a small pack in hand.

“Of course I do! Wait, will I need them?” Hypnos asks. The light flashes green, and they begin to walk.

“I’d think so. You’d hate to meet my mother with your nose all drippy, won’t you?”

Zagreus’ chuckle is cut short by the bone-crushing hug that Hypnos pulls him into. They topple into a pile of packed snow by the sidewalk, laughing loudly.

At any other time, Zagreus might have been embarrassed by this. He might have been mortified by the fact that, during the rest of their long walk to his mother’s, the two of them were dripping wet and covered in snow from head to toe. 

He was certainly embarrassed by the stolen bouquet, and certainly mortified by the fact that he had also lost his mother’s umbrella, but everything else?

Beside him, Hypnos is still occupied with brushing the snow out of his hair. Zagreus looks at Hypnos and smiles.

The last few months of planning and scheming and pretending to be the sort of person he wasn’t—Zagreus would have been embarrassed by that, too. But Hypnos had been there, beside him, just as invested as Zagreus (although their motives certainly differed).

So maybe that’s why, after everything, all Zagreus needs to do is take Hypnos’ awkwardly and smile.

And then they’ll walk to the flower shop, and Hypnos will meet his mother. No doubt that she would love him like a second son and invite him over for dinner, and Zagreus had a feeling that Charon wasn’t going to get Hypnos back until the sun was well below the sky.

There are no more convoluted plans to follow or lengthy scripts to write. Zagreus has no idea what was going to happen. 

They certainly wouldn’t ride off into the sunset and the credits certainly wouldn’t roll, and they would continue life as usual. Maybe Zagreus might stay up at night texting Hypnos now, and maybe he’d show up in the morning with a bundle of flowers and Hypnos would give him another awful cup of coffee. Nothing life-changing.

It’s a boring way to end a movie, sure, but Zagreus considers it a rather nice start to the rest of his life.