Work Text:
It’s a sad song
Orpheus had held Eurydice. For a single moment, he had grazed her skin as she smiled and wiped a tear from his eye. He’d seen as she was taken away from him, as she faded from view in an instant.
He was so close, and now she’s gone. Eurydice is gone, and now Orpheus doesn’t know what to do, how to react, or how to even function anymore. He’d let doubt seep in, he’d let his foolishness take over his determination, he’d let everyone down.
Orpheus fell to his knees and stared vacantly at the tunnel before him, where once Eurydice and him had walked to the light. Once, Eurydice had even a scoundrel of hope for the future.
He’s sobbed, curling into himself. His eyes burned and his throat felt raw as he cried. He stood up, feeling rage building up in his chest as he slammed his fist on the ground below him. Soon, his knuckles drew blood and the ground was covered in salty tears.
Once there were no tears left to cry, exhaustion pulled him over. He sat down by a tree, desperate to find any solace or feeling.
A wave of peacefulness was brought into him, a feeling of all too familiarity. A second chance (or maybe the thousandth).
Orpheus would retry, and he’d restart a million times over if it meant meeting, seeing, being with Eurydice once more. He’d do it again and again, because maybe one time it’d turn out. He’d follow Eurydice to the end of time, no matter how many times he was back to square one, even if every previous try had failed.
Orpheus shut his eyes and let himself be pulled back by the strings of time.
But we sing it again