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Vincent was getting sick of the stupid god of love. He hated the way he looked excited each time they met. That his eyes changed with his mood and each color somehow still made him look cute. That he got dejected each time Vincent left without much talking. He was especially upset that he was starting to enjoy the strawberry smell that was a permanent fixture on his breath. He hated the god of love, nothing would change that.
He walked into the clearing and was almost shocked to find the god laying on his stomach head buried in his arms. When they met Vincent was always staring up into eyes that were almost too pink. He was more cautious than normal as he approached, something wasn’t right. He bit his lip as he took cautious steps closer to the god. His breathing was steady if he didn’t know better he’d say Rhys was sleeping. Gods don’t sleep.
“Hey!” he tried. The god barely stirred. He wasn’t worried about the god, but he needed his blessing. That was what this was about, not his concern. “Rhys?”
“Hmm?” Rhys groaned. It wasn’t like normal, his voice was deeper and louder this time. It felt more like what he’d imagined the voice of a god to sound like. He moved closer, tempted to try and nudge the huge arms in front of him.
“I thought gods didn’t sleep. Just falling asleep here like it’s nothing is pretty weird.” He was trying to get Rhys to start the banter they always had. He wouldn’t admit he liked the small conversations they had. Having someone who didn’t just get upset with him was nice.
“We don’t have to.” Rhys still had that weirdly deep voice. His eyes were closed still and the scent of strawberries faintly wafted over him. He grimaced this was stupid.
“So you’re just doing this to waste my time? I’m going inside.”
Vincent turned to leave, he would just go rest on his own inside. The stupid god could sleep all he wanted then. He heard the sound of movement, a bit of panic before that huge arm was surrounding him. He froze, even with the promise he was safe it wasn’t a calming sight to have an arm taller than you block your path. He didn’t move, could barely breathe as the arm came a bit closer. He looked to the side fighting back bits of panic as he saw his exit disappear.
“Don’t go yet…” Rhys whispered. The deeper tone made Vincent’s spine tingle and he couldn’t say he hated it. The strawberry breath was once more overwhelming and almost nice. He didn’t turn around.
“Stupid god just let me go inside if you want to sleep. I don’t feel like standing around out here,” Vincent snarked. He just wanted to get away from the way Rhys had started to make him feel. He didn’t like seeing his own string slowly changing to match the color of the god’s. He didn’t want to match that, he was against it completely.
“ Just let me look at you for a little bit .” There was longing in those words. Like Rhys thought he’d never see Vincent’s face again.
He didn’t argue or make a remark, he just turned around. The way those huge eyes stared at him felt like he couldn’t hide. Everything he felt seemed to be laid bare as the half lidded gaze studied him. The way Rhys looked at him was different from everyone else. It wasn’t like he was just a person or a monster, it was like he was the world. He struggled to keep his own eyes locked on the dull shade of pink staring at him.
There was movement to the side and he wanted to look, but he felt mesmerized by the eyes now. The struggle was more to look away than maintain. The movement came closer and he realized it was the other hand of the god. He tensed prepared for the trick to end, but instead his face was traced gently with a finger. The finger stopped under his chin and tilted his head up just a little, just enough to give Rhys a better view of his own eyes. Violet and Emerald meeting a slowly more dazzling pink.
The gentle touch moved again, resting against his cheeks. The pink slowly faded to a deep blue as Rhys studied him more. It almost felt like it was the first time Rhys saw his face, well really saw his face. That could be it, he usually kept a solid distance from the god. The finger that lingered on his face finally pulled away and the hand slowly moved to hold him. It felt weird, surrounded like this and not terrified. Somewhere he was starting to trust this god. The blue seemed to get darker as the hold got just slightly tighter. There was a sigh and strawberries filled his senses. He started to wonder if Rhys ever even tried them.
“I don’t think I ever said how sorry I am that you were hurt for your gift in my name,” Rhys whispered. Vincent felt his eyes go wide and his heart almost stop. He had always been used to his scars, they were something that reminded him bonds were dangerous. Hearing that strangely deep tone apologize for them almost made him wonder why he hated this god so much.
“Just let me go and you go back to sleep you dumb god,” he sputtered out. He would leave before any more of his distaste for the god of love disappeared.
“Stay with me, for just a bit?” Vincent bit back a groan at the idea.
“Why are you sleeping anyway? Wouldn’t it be smarter to not be out in the open when you do?” If the god wanted him to stay he was getting an answer. The warm smile that appeared on the giant face made his heart skip a beat. Stupid cute god and his stupid cute face.
“Delphia wanted me to try sleeping and I had a dream about you, I thought I’d do it again while I waited for you.” The god had a sad look behind the smile he was wearing that made Vincent’s heart almost hurt. “I realized I hadn’t seen your face well before, thank you for letting me.”
“Just go back to your dream stupid god.” Vincent looked away quickly. He knew Rhys could probably feel how he was feeling, but he didn’t want to let him see the blush on his cheeks. He might not hate the god of love as much as he pretends he does.