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She finds him sprawled in the grass in the park they had first met, arms crossed beneath his head as he stares out into something she can’t see. He’s not looking at the flowers, she’s sure — so what is he looking at?
Persephone does not think Hades can see her yet — he might even be asleep! it’s difficult to tell from this angle — so she merely approaches silently, only to gently sink into the grass a little ways away. He still makes no indication of having noticed her, so for a moment she finds herself wondering if she is simply disturbing him. Perhaps she should leave.
But instead she looks away, down the hill to the small stream and benches below, and over and up at the buildings that stretch up toward the sky. Grey today, or perhaps it’s the clouds rolling across the sun as a cool breeze threatens to blow her hood off.
She can see why he likes to look out at this. Even if he’s not looking at the same thing — she has always enjoyed watching the clouds and imagining all sorts of shapes in their fluffy contours. Before long, she finds herself leaning back into the grass herself, vaguely mirroring his pose but with her hands flat over her stomach. It’s...comfortable.
A heavy breath breaks through her reverie. Persephone has no idea how long she’s simply sat there, but it seems he’s awakened, or maybe finally noticed her.
“Persephone?” He sits up slightly, twisting to look at her. She wonders how he knows it was her despite her not saying anything.
Thankful her hood and mask hides her mild flush, she lifts a hand in greeting, moves her fingers to write in the air.
Hades! Good evening.
He rubs at the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. “How did you — find me?” There’s something else he’s curious about, somehow she can tell from his tone — though she’s not sure what.
Hythlodaeus was kind enough to tell me where you might be. The clouds are very pretty, and the air is nice. I can see why you like to come here.
She finds herself smiling as she looks away from him for a moment to look up at the clouds again in the fading light.
“Ah...” His hesitance to speak prompts her to shift her gaze toward him again, head tilting in curiosity. “I wasn’t watching...the clouds.”
Her eyebrows lift slightly.
No? Then what were you watching?
When her curious question, whimsically coloured and carefree, is met by silence, she back pedals.
It is all right if you do not want to say. I am sorry for bothering you.
The words now are wispy and grey, almost formless. She hears him sigh again, hears his robes shuffle as he shifts in the grass.
“You aren’t bothering me. I was...” He pauses again, then looks away from her. Hades gestures with one arm over the sprawling expanse in front of them both. “I was watching the souls.” There’s a moment of quiet as this concept sinks in. He opens his mouth again, as if about to say something else, then thinks better of it.
Souls...?
She’s heard of such a phenomenon before, of soul sight, but it is such a rare ability that she never thought she would ever meet anyone with the power. Much less be friends with such a person.
Her query goes unanswered. As he hadn’t been looking at her, it’s little wonder he hadn’t been able to read her question. Biting her lower lip, she musters the courage to pull herself across the grass, and reaches to touch lightly at the sleeve of his robe. It takes all her willpower not to shy away when he looks down at her with those pretty yellow eyes of his.
You can see souls?
She repeats her question, blinking up at him.
“Yes.” He seems a little less hesitant about speaking now, or maybe it’s her imagination. “I can see them. Hyth can, too.”
Two people with soul sight! Incredible.
Oh, perhaps that was how he had known it was her —
And you see everyone else’s soul? Even now?
Such an ability must be exhausting — even as she wonders if the question is redundant.
“Well, yes...but I was watching the souls still yet within the aetherial sea.” Hades gestures again — she almost thinks he’s pointing at the clouds. “They are like...lights, in the air. Drifting this way and that. I come here to watch them, sometimes...and unwind.”
It sounds lovely. She wishes she could see them, too.
I like to watch the clouds...
Almost as soon as she gives the words form, she regrets them. It sounds so immature and silly compared to watching souls.
“Those are nice to see, too, on a windy day like this.”
But he doesn’t mock or belittle her, and the silence that stretches afterward is pleasant. They watch the clouds or the souls or maybe both as the sun creeps down as if into an encompassing dark ocean.
“It’s beautiful...”
She is vaguely aware that he jolts slightly, though she is so transfixed by the brilliant oranges and reds melting into the clouds and sky that she does not look at him. She does not even realise she has whispered aloud, her fingers having formed the words in the air for her all the same.
“Y-yes, it...is.”
She does not notice him looking at her. Even when she shifts to turn to look at him, he’s already furtively angled his head away. She has to touch him lightly for his attention again as another question surfaces to her, demanding to be asked.
Though despite her wish to ask it, she almost thinks better of it. The eagerness with which she’d turned to him fades, and she almost shakes her head to communicate that it doesn’t matter. Because it’s a selfish, senseless question.
“What is it, Persephone?”
...What is my soul like?
Hades is quiet for a long while as he gazes at her. The mask and hood do not exactly aid in making him readable. As the silence stretches on, she thinks her question incredibly foolish, perhaps even childish — self-conscious, she picks at one of her sleeves, ducking her head. Of course he has nothing to say —
“It is...like the sunset.” His voice is quieter than it has ever been before.
Blinking, Persephone manages to look up at him, but he is already looking somewhere else.
So it is...orange...?
“I am afraid I’m quite tired, and it’s rather late. I’ll walk you to your room.”