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Jean is gathering flowers in a meadow. He's surrounded by countless flourishing blossoms. The sun is high in the sky as it beams down on him. His skin feels warm and smells of spring.
As he's meandering in between clusters of perennials, he happens upon a narcissus. It's the most beautiful one he's ever seen. The petals are a vibrant white with a blooming red sprouting from the middle. It emits a strong yet sweet floral scent. He's smelled many flowers, but none like this. He takes a deep breath and feels the soothing sensation wash over his whole body.
Then, out of nowhere, he feels a hand on his shoulder. He yelps in surprise and turns around to see Hades. The God of Death himself looming over him. Somehow, he's more surprised that Death has appeared before him than afraid. For the last few outings he's taken to this pasture, he's felt the presence of another. He's never looked back to confirm, but apparently this god has been spying on him. How has he managed to attract the eyes of the Ruler of the Underworld?
"I apologize for startling you." Jean gives the god a once over. He's dressed in black robes with a black cloak and black boots. His eyes have dark circles under them, but a neutral expression adorns his face, and Jean can detect a hint of concern within. After hearing all the rumors about Death being too arrogant to associate with other gods, he is much less imposing than he was made out to be. In fact, he appears to be more awkward than anything else. Jean supposes it would be hard to make friends in a position with such power. With all those rumors floating about, he might even be isolated.
He realizes he's been spacing out when Death clears his throat.
"I'm sorry for my rudeness, sir." Jean directs a gentle smile the man's way. He observes the god's eyes widen and realizes this may be the most normal interaction this man has ever had. A sense of guilt festers in his stomach, so he introduces himself.
"Mister, my name is Persephone, but most people refer to me as Jean. I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance." He curtsies out of habit. His dress flitters around him in the tepid breeze. The man thinks for a moment before speaking.
"Are you going to cut this narcissus to keep or place it into a vase?"
He wonders why Hades cares, but he shakes his head and chooses not to question how he makes small talk.
"The flower would die in a few days like that."
He tilts his head a slight bit. "Why does that matter? It will die anyway in this world. Sooner or later, it makes no difference."
Jean tuts at the god as if he's scolding a child. "No, it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. But I want to breathe its beauty into the world a little longer."
"Haven't you a basket of flora?" He gestures at the various flowers and herbs Jean has picked.
"There are some flowers I wish not to touch." He looks up and smiles at the man again. "You haven't introduced yourself to me. What's your name?"
As there is almost no person who hasn't heard of him, he opens his mouth in visible shock. Jean tries not to laugh. "I've been bestowed the title God of Death. You may call me Hades as well." Jean has heard all of this before. God of Death, Hades, Ruler of the Underworld, those words have been repeated so much to him it's become bland. He notices the man falter for a moment. "But my real name...is Armin." He tries to not let the shock show on his face at learning Hades's true name and ends up laughing at the absurdity of it all instead.
"So the big bad God of Death gets nervous like this too?" Armin realizes he's being teased. He puffs out his cheeks. He's pouting? Jean laughs even harder.
"What's this? You're like a little kid!" Under this commanding god, there is a yet to be grown personality of a child. He thinks he'll have fun with this.
"A-Anyway, thank you for your time. I simply thought to introduce myself. I'll be going now." He turns and begins walking away.
Before Jean can think better of it, he shouts, "Come visit again, Armin!" His head whips around, but his eyes dart downward when he faces Jean again.
He murmurs, "Yes, I think I will." Then he wanders off.
Jean believes he must have mistaken this, but he could've sworn he saw a blush dusting Armin's pale cheeks. His heart skips a beat at the thought of a stoic man like that flustering because of him. He looks back at the flower and sighs. Armin's shimmering blue eyes were such a stark contrast to the rest of him. Every other part of him seemed so dull, but his eyes shone with the truth. He is much more than Jean could've ever thought him to be.
They begin to meet up often as Jean introduces Armin to the surface. They visit shops, marketplaces, plazas, and many more common places for gathering. He can't resist messing with Armin a bit as his lack of social skills and knowledge about life on the surface come up short. From scaring clerks, to asking Jean what every odd object he can't recognize is, to striking up terrible conversations with commoners, there is never a boring moment with Armin. The god is so fascinated by civilization, and yet Jean is sure he's never interacted with it before. As of late, he's enjoyed understanding Hades better more than anything else. The God of Death appears so scary and devoid of life, but his eyes sparkle with more life than he's seen in most people. A burning curiosity has settled in Jean.
To be more honest, Armin occupies most of his thoughts at this point. He's enamored with him. Jean can admit that. At least, to himself. These last few months have been filled with more joy and fun than he's ever felt before. He thinks a lot about what should come next with them, and if there should even be any other stage for them after a close friendship.
One night, while lazing and contemplating in his favorite field as usual, Jean falls asleep. He dreams the kind of light slumber where there are no dreams, and the world can be sensed while unconscious. In his sleep, he feels a weight added to him. He rouses and sees Armin's black cloak has been draped over him. A sleepy smile graces his face. Oh, so Armin must be beside him. That's nice.
After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he views the scenery around him. As if out of a painting, the dense black cloth creates a stark yet stunning contrast against the array of colorful flowers Jean had been dozing in. The morning sky is tinged a pale greenish grey. With the same half awake smile plastered on his face, he peers up at Armin.
After a beat, he hears Armin say, "Persephone, would you become my wife?"
Jean, still waking up, startles awake in shock. Not only did Armin use his goddess name, which nobody calls him other than Armin, but he wants Jean as his wife? A blush overtakes his face. "Haha, good one Armin! So you finally learned how to tell a joke, huh?" He waits for Armin's expression to break into laughter, but he remembers this is Armin. He can't joke for the life of him. Either way, one look at his face shows this is no joke at all. Armin is eager for a response.
He wonders why he's hesitating. His love is returned, and yet, the implications of dating the Hades are...
"You may return to the surface whenever you want, Jean. I will continue to see you here as well. As I love you so dearly, my desire is only to not exclude you from some of the more grim parts of my existence."
Jean is in awe at this honest admission. Armin doesn't hesitate to tell Jean he loves him, and it's clear this has been festering for a long time. Perhaps Armin loved him since they first met or possibly even before. How did he not pick up on that? He supposes he was too entrenched in his own affairs. Jean knows Armin has no experience, and he is without experience as well. But, he loves Armin and wants to begin an honest and loving relationship with him. Hand in loving hand, they should explore the rest of the world together.
"I will become your wife if you'll become my husband." Armin nods a few enthusiastic times at this. "But before we go, I'd like to give you a gift." Armin seems perplexed by this but waits to ask questions.
Jean goes over to the same narcissus flower he saw prior to his first meeting with Armin. Despite spring having come and gone, the little flower has stayed put in unyielding strength. Armin comes to his side and notices Jean's intentions. With his bare hands, he digs up the flower. Cupping it in his earth stained palms, Jean presents the daffodil to Armin. The flower rests in enough dirt to be placed into a pot. A rare tender smile adorns Armin's lips.
"Let's go, Armin."
They arrive at the Underworld, and for all of its hellish glare, Armin manages to procure a simple unassuming pot of the perfect size. While pressing dirt down in the pot together, their fingertips touch. When they're finished, the daffodil looks to be standing even stronger. Armin laces his soiled fingers into Jean's.
From then on, Jean discovers his favorite seat to be on the throne of Hades with the god himself beside him.