Archive of Our Own

The wind was getting stronger, Eurydice noted idly as she wiped down the last of the tables nearest to the door. The crack that Orpheus had left open – honestly, how many times can one man leave a door ajar? – allowed the occasional gust of air to enter the empty bar, tinkling the glasses by the bar and making some of the wood creak with old age.

However, for the first time in a very long while, the cold didn't send Eurydice into a panic. She was safe now, and has been for over a year. Just that simple fact alone brought a touch of a smile on her face, making her grin stupidly at her last table of the night.

Orpheus' song had truly brought the world back into tune. When the two of them had emerged from the tracks, Eurydice expected the biting cold of winter, but no – it was Spring, the very first she had ever experienced. Flower pollen dusted her shoulders and hair when she stood rooted under the flourishing trees, tears brimming as Orpheus brought her back under the sunlight.

When he turned, safe above ground, they had wept in relief and fear and joy. He had done the impossible: saving her and the world. His name would be echoed as a legend, and so would Eurydice's.

When another, even colder wind passed through, Eurydice's smile dipped into a half-hearted scowl. Once Orpheus was back from his grocery run, she thought to herself, she would have to give him an earful. For all his marvellous feats, a firm closing of a door was apparently too tough for him. The bar was already as cold as it was at this time of the night, the clock ticking steadily past midnight. Eurydice was willing to bet that that was the real reason why Hermes always let the two lovers close up shop; his ancient bones probably couldn't handle any more autumn chill than it has in the past millennia.

After the last table was thoroughly wiped down, Eurydice immediately tossed the cloth over to the bar. It didn't matter where it was, really, for she and Orpheus would be the ones opening up anyways, so what the old man won't know won't kill him. Grabbing her coat at the back of a chair, she threw it on in haste and drew out the keys to the door from her pocket, eager to lock the place up and wait for Orpheus.

But when she turned back around, her plan screeched to a halt. Eurydice frowned as a man – no, a stranger – pushed the door open, blatantly ignoring the CLOSED sign hanging at the front. But unlike the usual tipsy customer looking for a drink, the man seemed alert, his blue eyes landing on Eurydice in an instant.

"I– uh, hi? Are you guys closed?"

"No, we just like hanging closed signs at our doors for fun," Eurydice bit back immediately, satisfied as she watched the stranger flush red in embarrassment.

"Right, sorry. It's just...I'm trying to find Orpheus. Is he here?"

Eurydice blinked, drawn out of her sarcasm. She was pretty certain that she knew everyone that knew Orpheus, and this man was definitely not someone she recognised. In fact, she was sure that he wasn't even one of the townsfolk; there were way too few people that lived around the train station. So how did he know who he was?

That was exactly what she asked and the man grew even redder.

"We were...old friends," he answered slowly. "My name's Calaïs."

Eurydice stared at him for a moment, running the name through her head and coming up blank. She knew no Calaïs, and Orpheus never mentioned anyone even remotely close to that name.

"He's not in right now." She didn't know why she still trusted him with that information, but it was probably the way he looked so nervous, as if she could kick his ass at any moment (she could). It also didn't help that the wind was blowing through even harder than before, whipping his hair around his head like crazy.

"But you can come in and wait if you want, it's cold out," Eurydice waved a hand nonchalantly, pulling out a chair at the table to invite him over.

The stranger's face lit up with a bright smile and he made his way into the bar after firmly shutting the door. That was one problem out of the way at least.

"Thank you, um..."

"Eurydice," she smirked, making herself comfortable on the bar counter instead. "How do you know Orpheus, anyways? I can count the number of friends he has on these two hands and I know you're not one of them."

Calaïs sat down at the table, fiddling with something in his hands. A small bouquet, Eurydice realised, made of red and pink carnations and tied with a thin piece of twine. How odd.

And while he searched for his words, she took the time to properly take him in: he was tall, probably even taller than Orpheus, with white-blond hair and wearing a shirt and jeans that seemed wildly inappropriate for the weather. Hell, it didn't even look like he was cold at all, merely picking nervously at the leaves of his bouquet.

"We went on a roadtrip a few years back," he glanced up, his blue eyes nearly grey in the dim bar. "We travelled across the country, um, it's a very long story. Involves a bit too much of fleece coats, in my opinion."

He grinned as if he told the funniest joke of all time and Eurydice couldn't help but reply with a snort.

"Roadtrip? Orpheus? I don't think that man knows what a car is if it ran him over on the streets."

That drew a laugh from Calaïs, who nodded sagely.

"Seems like he hasn't changed, then. But yeah, we were on the road with a couple of other friends. It was fun, we all got to know each other quite a bit."

Eurydice hummed in thought, wondering why Orpheus had never told her about this apparent journey. She had honestly believed his trip to Hadestown had been the longest and farthest he'd ever travelled.

"So..." Calaïs piped up once more, twisting the bouquet in his hands as nervousness slipped into his voice again. "Where is he anyways? In the backroom?"

"Told you, he's out. Went for a grocery run because someone forgot we ran out of milk two days ago."

He nodded slowly, before giving her a soft smile.

"So you two are colleagues here then?"

A sharp bark of laughter escaped her before she could contain it, incredulity rising. Eurydice had been convinced that her name was forever co-signed with Orpheus: The Poet and his Muse, returned from death. And yet here was Calaïs, a stranger who has seemingly never heard of their relationship.

"Yes, technically," she teased. "But I think people know me better as his wife."

That was the wrong answer. Suddenly, Calaïs' smile dropped, replaced with something akin to horror instead.

"What?" He said, sounding strangled.

Eurydice stared back in confusion. The polite expression that Calaïs had been wearing shattered, the man now sitting rigidly in his chair with a death grip on his bouquet.

"Are you okay?" She slipped off the counter cautiously, moving towards him with her hands outstretched, offering help. His face had faded into the colour of snow, nearly matching in shade with his hair.

"I– yes, yes." Calaïs ran a hand down his face, blinking back something that looked suspiciously like tears. "Forgive me for my bluntness but...how long have you been married?"

A question like that might have been rude, but Eurydice noticed his shaking hands and pale complexion and couldn't help but answer truthfully.

"Only a few months. It was quite a rush, if I'm being honest. Just us and the people in town."

They had gotten married a week after their return, not wanting anything to delay their unity as one soul and being. Yes it was hectic, but Persephone's presence brought about the best weather Eurydice had ever seen, and Orpheus alone made the day just as sweet as the first time they had met. It was perfect.

Calaïs swallowed hard at the information, before standing up.

"I understand. I think I've troubled you enough, Eurydice. I'll be off now."

Eurydice moved before Calaïs could even take a step, blocking his way to the exit.

"What?" Her face was now pulled into a scowl, though a soft concern was evident in her eyes. "It's barely been five minutes, what are you talking about?"

Calaïs stared down at her. He was more than a head taller, and yet looked so much like a frightened child that Eurydice resisted the urge to rub his back motherly.

"I just think I've– I don't think Orpheus would want to see me. It's been years, he–"

"Orpheus would love to see you! You said you knew him, then you should know he loves all his friends dearly."

"Friends..." Calaïs glanced down at the flowers and Eurydice could see the very obvious tears brimming in his eyes now.

She raised an awkward hand and placed it on his arm, startling him from his trance. She was never good at feelings, always preferring to run away from her own and from the people around her. And though she's gotten better at it, comforting a stranger was still far out from her field of expertise.

"Calaïs," she said, worry etched into her brow. "Tell me what's wrong." Eurydice paused to let him collect his thoughts, but his reply still didn't come. Her frown deepened then.

"Was it something I said?"

"No," he answered too quickly, and Eurydice quickly went over the last few minutes of their conversation.

Calaïs attempted to walk out again, but Eurydice's grip on him tightened.

"My marriage? Was that it?"

"No, please, let me go," he begged.

Eurydice nearly didn't have the heart to hold onto him, but she stood her ground and attempted to fix him with the fiercest glare she could muster.

Just as she was about to drag him back to his seat, a cold gust of wind hit her square in the back. She turned to see the bar door open and the flushed face of Orpheus peeking in, the cold reddening his cheeks. He held a bag of groceries tucked under an arm, his eyes immediately drawn to his wife as always.

"Eurydice! Sorry it took so long, I–"

Orpheus' gaze flickered upwards, spotting their new guest. For a split second, his expression stayed blank with confusion, before his face twisted in shock and grief.

"Cal?"

Cal?

Eurydice, taken aback by his reaction, looked back at Calaïs. The man had taken a full step back, sorrow radiating from him. The bouquet that had been a bright splash of colour now hung limp in his hand, and when her eyes went down to it, he instinctively hid it behind him.

The bouquet. His nervousness. The reaction at their marriage.

Her head whipped back to Orpheus so fast she saw stars. Poor Orpheus still had his eyes glued to Calaïs, his eyes wide and– there it was. Heartbreak.

"...Oh," Eurydice exhaled.

"Yeah," Calaïs chuckled hollowly. "Oh."

"...I'll take my leave then."

Calaïs managed to make it all the way to the door, his hand on the handle, before the couple snapped out of their thoughts.

"No!" Orpheus said, even faster than Eurydice. He had even thrown his bag over the counter in his haste. "Stay, I...I think I need to speak to the both of you."

He looked somber and for a second, Eurydice was afraid. Not of infidelity (How could she? This was the same man who went down to Hadestown for her) but of the two men's history. If Calaïs wasn’t as good of a person as she had assumed, Eurydice swore that she would have his skin for a rug.

But when she gripped Orpheus' hand in comfort, he merely gave her a reassuring nod. Nothing bad, she interpreted, just something important.

Eurydice turned back to Calaïs then, who had returned to his seat like a schoolboy caught for ditching class.

"Yeah, a talk would be good," she joked half-heartedly, gently tugging Orpheus to the table.

"I'm sorry."

Calaïs' voice was quiet and hung heavy with shame, but Eurydice waved it away with a scoff.

"What am I, a child? Past loves don't mean anything to me," she glanced between the two of them with a shake of her head.

"But the two of you obviously have stuff to talk about. So talk. I'll leave you guys to it."

Eurydice made to go to the backroom, but Orpheus' grip stayed tight in her hand. Staring at him in confusion, he merely returned it with a pleading gaze, so soft and disarming that it made her stay rooted to the ground. He then stared at Calaïs, years worth of unspoken words passing between them.

"Stay, Eurydice. I owe you an explanation too," Orpheus replied quietly and, well, with eyes like that, who was Eurydice to refuse?

She relented, smiling and pulling out a chair of her own to sit on. "Fine. Perhaps you could start by introducing us?"

Orpheus took a seat next to her, nodding slowly. His hand was still clamped onto hers tightly, but she could see his eyes starting to slide over to Calaïs, who was beginning to recover from his mortification.

"Okay um...Calaïs, this is Eurydice, my wife," Orpheus started, waving a nervous hand between the two of them.

"Pleasure to meet you," Eurydice couldn't help but retort but was immensely relieved to see a weak smile appear on Calaïs' lips.

"Likewise."

"And uh, Eurydice, this is Calaïs." Orpheus' cheeks grew redder, and Eurydice watched in amusement at seeing him trying and failing to form his next sentence. "He was– We were–"

Thankfully, Calaïs jumped in, his own face just as flushed.

"We were together, a few years back," he answered bashfully. "During our trip to Colchis."

"The roadtrip?"

"Yeah."

Eurydice snickered, imagining a younger, bubbling Orpheus squashed in the backseat of a car with Calaïs, asking him in feverish haste to come home with him. Meanwhile, Orpheus looked like he had been struck by lightning.

"You told her?"

"A little," Calaïs admitted. "I didn't get into the whole reason why or, uh, about the other Argonauts."

Now Eurydice's head was the one spinning. "What the hell is an Argonaut?"

"The people on the trip. We were named after the truck we rode," Orpheus explained. "Jason – he was the organiser – named her Argo. I think he wanted us to have a fun team name?"

Eurydice snorted, glancing to Calaïs for confirmation. He gave her a tired nod, shrugging in defeat. Seems like he didn't have a say on what to name their group either. 

"Sounds stupid," she concluded simply. "And who's Jason?"

"A guy who was unlucky enough to get a quest," Calaïs answered. "I'm not that sure about the details myself, but he needed to get a golden fleece coat out in Colchis for some goddess, so he asked us for help."

"Help? From Orpheus?"

Calaïs nodded and Eurydice sat back for a while. Of course she knew how powerful Orpheus could be, she had a front row seat to his song after all. Even in the coldest of nights, a sleepy pluck of his lyre could send heat waves down her spine. But she'd heard of quests too: journeys that were crafted and directed by the gods that involved way too many fights, heists, and killings for her liking. Did Orpheus really trudge through this, armed with nothing but his lyre on his back?

But he did do all that for her, she reminded herself gently, when he walked down to Hell. Was the roadtrip the reason why he could survive that?

"He saved us once, actually."

Calaïs' comment perked Eurydice up, and at Orpheus' flustered babble, he pressed on, looking more animated as he recalled tales from their past.

"On the way back, there were these old singing croons along the road. They enchanted Jason and he nearly drove us off a cliff." There was a growing grin on his face now. "Then Orpheus, like the god he was, took out his lyre and started singing."

"What did he sing? Was it la-"

"La, la la la, la la la," Calaïs confirmed gleefully.

Eurydice tossed back her head and cackled, much to Orpheus' embarrassment.

"It was the first thing I could think of!"

"Gods, you're so predictable."

"I know right!"

Calaïs and Eurydice shared a wicked expression, bonded by the exasperation they shared for poor Orpheus, who looked more and more despondent as the conversation drew on.

"I think this was a bad idea," he groaned, though there was no malice behind his words.

"Well, I think it was about time I learned all your embarrassing stories," Eurydice teased. "Got any more, Calaïs?"

"Plenty."

Orpheus buried his face behind his hands then, muttering something about teenage years. Eurydice almost felt pity for him, being sandwiched between his past lover and his wife, but no one could blame her for being curious. For all their time together, they had never swapped stories of their childhoods. She knew her own was dreary and unimpressive, and that was why she never bothered sharing it, much less pried for Orpheus'. The past was the past, and she had always looked ahead.

With Calaïs here, however, Eurydice realised that there was more to her husband than she had thought. And while she was itching to dig for more information, the sensible part of her knew there was plenty of time for that later on in private. For now, she merely asked the question that burned the hottest:

"What happened in the end?"

The mood fell, just as she expected, with the two men giving each other a look that flickered between hesitancy and uncertainty. Finally, Orpheus spoke.

"Jason found the coat," he started slowly. "And we returned home."

Eurydice blinked at the resounding silence, surprised at the brevity. Even a quick glance at Calaïs showed that neither man had anything more to say.

"Just like that? But you guys would've been on the road for at least a few months–"

"A year and a half, actually."

"A year?!" Eurydice could barely remember ever spending more than six months at one place before Orpheus. Before the season changed, she was already up and out. Summer used to be nearly a full six months; winter was even longer. If one didn’t have a home to live in, they had to run and run fast . So how does one stay with a group of strangers for long enough to trust them to protect your back? And how does one, after building such a strong camaraderie, just go their separate ways?

She focused on Orpheus again, this time clasping his hands with both of hers. He looked forlorn, an expression that hadn't haunt his face since Hadestown, and that struck her deep into her core. What the hell happened at the end of the journey?

An obvious answer surfaced and Eurydice turned to Calaïs with a look that could have frozen Hadestown ten times over. He had his eyes trained to the ceiling, pointedly ignoring Eurydice's glare, though his face was similarly clouded over with regret.

"We had a great time on the road." Calaïs began again, his voice laced with sorrow. "But many of us were grown: people with children and businesses to run. So we had to go back home."

"We all said we'll keep in touch, but life gets hectic. One unread letter easily turns into two, and meetups are hard when the world is so big. As for Orpheus and I..." Calaïs' voice hitched. "That was my fault."

Orpheus looked like he was about to argue, but Calaïs continued.

"He invited me to go back with him – back here I suppose – but I told him I had to go home. I said that my father needed me but really, I was just a dumb teenager looking for approval. And it didn't even matter in the end." Shame flooded his face now as his gaze lowered to land on Orpheus.

"I was young and stupid. I placed my family over my heart and left you. I'm sorry."

Eurydice's heart ached at the awful familiarity of the story. Suddenly it was her who could not make eye contact with anyone, tears burning hot at the back of her sockets as she thought of a young Orpheus, abandoned first by Calaïs and then by her. 

Was that why he had refused to let her go? Following her down the dark trenches of Hadestown to win her back, when he had failed with Calaïs years past?

Guilt pooled at the bottom of her stomach, but before either her or Calaïs could express more apologies, their ever-patient Orpheus spoke up:

"That's not true. It was my fault too."

He was quiet, but Eurydice could spot the stubbornness in his gaze a mile away, the same look he wore when he stood eye to eye with Hades.

"I could have followed you back home and– and told your father I wanted to stay with you, but I just wanted to go home and finish my song. I was too focused on my music and...I placed that over you instead. The both of you."

Calaïs looked confused but Eurydice ignored him for now, tears springing into her eyes as her nails dug into Orpheus' hands. Did he not understand that she'd already forgiven him a hundred times over? She wanted to pull him into a hug and stop him from remembering all those days down in Hadestown, but Orpheus kept talking.

"I learned too late what was really important to me. I lost you and I nearly lost Eurydice too. So yeah, I had a part in that as well." He let out a sigh, rubbing circles into Eurydice's palms. "We were too young. If we had tried harder, maybe it would have worked out but...our time is up I think. We can only fix what's left, not– not try and get back what's already gone."

Silence settled in the room as Orpheus' words sunk in. Then, a watery chuckle came from Calaïs as he eyed the couple in amusement, his own tears threatening to slip out.

"When did you get so smart?" He choked out, wiping his eyes. "What did you do to this man, Eurydice?"

Eurydice swallowed her own tears, laughing at Calaïs. "He's always been this sentimental, didn't you know?"

A few more seconds of tear-filled laughter lightened the air once again, a weight lifting off Eurydice's chest. Even Orpheus, with his trademark confusion, was smiling gently, his hands disentangling from hers to wipe away her tears with a sickly sweet tenderness. Eurydice leaned into his touch, burying her face into the familiar crook of his neck and letting Orpheus card his fingers through her hair.

"I'm not gonna lie," he chuckled nervously, his breaths hot above her ears. "This isn't how I thought we'd spend Friday night."

Oh gods, it was a Friday night. Eurydice pulled back with a hearty laugh, looking over at Calaïs who had been respectfully averting his gaze.

"Sorry to disturb your Friday, Calaïs," she said cheekily.

The man in question shook his head violently, pale hair whipping about. "Gods no, Eurydice, I should be the one that's sorry. You guys were gonna go home and I barged in; you have all the rights to be angry at me."

Eurydice couldn't help but tease a little more. "True. That, and for coming in to try and woo my husband."

To his credit, Calaïs only blushed a few shades brighter, unlike Orpheus who had gone completely maroon.

"In my defence," Calaïs exclaimed, quickly sweeping the bouquet off the table and onto the floor. "I didn't know he was married."

"Um, I feel like I'm missing something here."

Eurydice patted Orpheus' arm sympathetically as Calaïs sighed, rubbing his face with what Eurydice assumed was the intent of wiping the blush off his cheeks, to no avail. After a few more seconds of silence, when Eurydice started to fear that she’d toed the line a bit too far, the fair-headed man muttered his explanation.

"I was searching for you, Orph. Thought maybe...well after so long, we could maybe try again. But obviously that’s out of the window."

His voice was muffled behind his hands, his last words hastily pinned to avoid any misunderstandings, but that didn’t stop Orpheus from getting even redder. Eurydice had to stifle another laugh when he began to gawk between the two of them, mouth opening and closing like a choking fish.

“You wanted to…? Do you still–”

“No, no no. No, uh, lingering feelings or anything. If there were, I would have ran out and found you long ago.”

A visible tension left Orpheus’ shoulders, which made Eurydice wonder if he had truly feared that Calaïs had come to try and steal him away from her. Perhaps Calaïs was known for his brazen attitude in the past; Orpheus would know better than her.

“Oh.” Orpheus sounded confused, but he sounded confused all the time. “Then…”

“There was no harm in trying,” their guest winced. "Or so I thought. There were no feelings leftover, I promise, I just– just wanted to see a familiar face, I suppose. Far away as possible from the North."

Eurydice frowned. "The North?"

Calaïs tensed, his eyes flashing with a look that Eurydice recognised as a warning.

"Nothing important. Orpheus can tell you in the morning if he wants..." The loud scraping of chair legs dragging across the floor made Eurydice jolt in surprise, barely registering Calaïs standing up and patting Orpheus on the shoulder awkwardly.

"But I should go. I've wasted your time for far too long–"

"Come on now, Calaïs," Eurydice cut in, leaving Calaïs half-rising from his seat. "You sit at our bar for nearly an hour and you expect to just leave like this?"

There was a flicker of uneasiness in his eyes. "Leave like...what?"

“Like nothing happened!” Orpheus’ outburst was sudden, but not a surprise. And then there it was: the large, pleading eyes that Eurydice could never say no to.

“I want to talk to you more. Stay for a while, please?”

Startled, Calaïs glanced between the two of them hesitantly, before turning away from Orpheus’s pout with a resigned sigh. Eurydice was gleeful; she knew no one could resist his charms for long.

“Well...I did get a room at an inn. I can see you guys tomorrow for breakfast.”

“And for the rest of the day?”

Calaïs looked at Eurydice as if she’d grown a second head. “What?”

Eurydice stood up too, followed closely by Orpheus scrambling up from his chair. Dusting off her coat, she spread her arms around the empty bar that was growing colder by the minute despite the shut door.

“Like I said before, you and Orpheus have a lot to talk about. One night and day of chatting isn’t enough, is it? Besides,” she huffed, folding her arms. “I still need blackmail on Orpheus. Don’t think you can get away from here so easily.”

Despite his grimace, Orpheus nodded all the same.

"I can show you around town! You’ll love the place; everyone’s nice and welcoming, you’ll fit in here in no time. I can show you the marketplace, the train station–”

“–after work,” Eurydice chimed in with a snort. “Don’t get too excited now, love. It’ll be a miracle if Mr Hermes even lets us off early with a guest in town.”

As the smile slid off Orpheus’ face, Calaïs laughed. He nodded slowly, seemingly accepting the fact that he was stuck in town with the unusual couple for the next few days.

“It’ll be a pleasure to explore your home.” His smile was gentle on his face and Eurydice could see how Orpheus fell in love with him so many years ago. “Though seriously, it’s getting late. I won’t keep you guys any longer.”

“Let us walk you out then,” Eurydice waved a hand at the door and finally, finally , they were able to leave the bar. She had never been happier to step into the frigid cold of autumn before, but anything to get one step closer to going home and snuggling under the covers with her husband.

Once the lock clicked shut and Orpheus finished fussing over Calaïs’ attire (“I know the wind doesn’t affect you, but still!”), Eurydice found herself staring at the figure walking off down the dark street, her eyes following the white head of hair as it faded into the dark.

A sigh from beside her caught her attention and Eurydice turned to see Orpheus rubbing his face in exhaustion.

"Everything alright, poet?"

"Yes love. It's just–" He levelled his gaze with her, his brow pinched together. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you about all this."

Eurydice was about to brush it off, but she couldn't help but admit it was a little strange for Orpheus to have hid such a large part of his past, no matter how embarrassing it might have been.

"I'm not angry, poet,” she clarified. “Just a little confused. Calaïs obviously meant a lot to you, so I’m not sure why you never spoke of him. Or of the other...Argonuts?”

Orpheus nodded mutely at Eurydice’s butchered pronunciation of his team name, reaching forward to hold her hands and squeeze them gently between his own.

"I was just...so certain that they were gone for good. That I'd never see them again so–" Orpheus cut off momentarily, pain etched in his voice. "So I thought there was no need to speak of them anymore. Bringing it up wouldn't bring anybody any good: I'd just be sadder and you'd have to live knowing that Calaïs...existed."

Despite the sorrowful atmosphere, Eurydice couldn't help but snort.

"Poet, did you really think I'd be upset over who you've loved in the past?"

Orpheus flushed. "N-not upset no, but I didn't want you to think that my love for you is conditional." Guilt marred his features now. "I didn't want you to be scared that I'd leave you too, like I did with Cal."

Eurydice's heart ached at his confession, but she smiled at him all the same.

"Well, will you?"

"Of course not!"

"Then there's nothing to be afraid of, right?" Eurydice let go of his hands to cup his face, squishing the frown off his lips. "I trust you with my whole heart, Orpheus. Tell me anything and I’ll listen. We’ve got nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

She swallowed then, her eyes darting about hesitantly.

“But I also know I haven't been the most open about my past either. It’s something I have to work on, but we can work on it together, alright?"

When she looked back at Orpheus, she could only catch the tiniest of nods before Orpheus pulled her into a hug. Eurydice sank her face into the crook of his neck, feeling the soft thumps of his heart beating along to hers.

"Eurydice," he exhaled just above her head and Eurydice had to stifle a sob at his raw voice. "Of course. Of course, my love. I trust you with my heart too, and I’ll treasure yours forever. ”

“Sap,” she teased but still tightened her hold on Orpheus, savouring the hug for a minute more before a gust of wind quickly had her pull away.

“Let’s continue this at home, alright?” Eurydice laughed quietly, tugging on Orpheus’ wrist. "We’ve got all the time in the world."

The smile on Orpheus' face could have lit up the street, and Eurydice couldn’t help but return a grin of her own as he let himself be dragged down to their home.

"Indeed love, we've got time."