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When her hand wrapped around the doorknob, Eurydice threw it open and scrambled inside. It shut with a loud thump, intensified as she slumped against the door. The bag that she had been gripping so tightly in her hand slipped from her grasp and onto the floor in a heap. She had made it.
Eurydice took a moment to catch her breath, chest heaving. Her head was tilted upwards as she started at the ceiling of her small home. She needed to put the food away, to fix dinner. But the relief that had hit her the moment she shut the door was too overwhelming.
The trek outside was horrible, with the wind whipping her to and fro. It bit at her skin, turning her hands numb and making her lose feeling in her face.
There was no snow, but the threat of it was always there. Clouds had overtaken the blue skies, hanging low over the land. They were not welcome, but they had made their presence known.
Eurydice didn't have much money and people didn't have much to offer. Everyone was trying to survive, trying to sustain themselves. Every time she ventured out she could feel the air of desperation. She couldn't tell if it was her own or the world's, waiting for Persephone’s merciful steps onto its land once again.
Even though the wind was unforgiving, the people were even more. She was jostled around, though most of those out during the springtime were huddled up in their homes with their food, refusing to leave unless forced to. Eurydice couldn't blame them. She did the same too. She only left when they were running out of food, or her body dragged her outside to prevent her from going insane. But not Orpheus. No, he stayed inside, bent over his guitar and mumbling to himself.
Eurydice pushed herself off of the door, bending over to pick up the dropped bag. Her lover must have missed the slam of the door. She frowned slightly. That was dangerous. She could be an intruder with the intent to plunge a dagger into Orpheus’s back. She'd make sure to chide him about it later.
She trudged further into the small house, taking off her shoes and heavy coat along the way.
Orpheus wasn't in the living room, that was for certain. As she walked towards the even tinier kitchen, Eurydice strained her ears to hear the faintest clue of where he could be. A soft mumbling came from the bedroom at the end of the hallway.
An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she propped her hands up against the counter. She hung her head and stood, listening to the gentle lyrics her Orpheus was singing.
Eventually Eurydice reached up to pull the cupboards open. The doors flew open to reveal a painfully empty pantry. She looked down at her bag. Hopefully this would be enough to last them a few days. She didn't want to go outside for another day or two at least.
She began to put the items away. She got a handful of good offers today. Apparently the public was feeling generous. Maybe they remembered how Persephone frolicked in the springtime, preaching about the togetherness of man.
However, she did have to wrestle a man for a jar of strawberry jam, and he wasn't feeling very connected by their humanity. He ended up pitying her and letting it go though. He also tried to flirt with her, but she left the moment she got what she wanted. And what she wanted was not him.
Eurydice took a slight step back to survey her work. The jam. A loaf of bread she paid someone coins for. A few stacks of sliced cheese. Turkey she had stolen from somebody else. Just because she was buddy buddy when it was warm didn't mean she would stay that way. It wasn't her nature and never would be.
As she closed the pantry up, Eurydice heard the notes of Orpheus's song intensifying. His voice got louder, more desperate than before. This was normal when he got too focused on his work. But it felt different somehow. Like he was calling out to somebody that was not there.
She curiously made her way down the hallway to their bedroom. On the way, she glanced at the living room. The fireplace, which had been steadily burning when she left, was now a pile of smoking lumber. She frowned. Now that the feeling had come back to her hands and arms, she could tell that it was cold in the house. How didn't Orpheus notice? She'd have to feed the fire later.
Eurydice approached the bedroom, the door slightly ajar. She leaned against its frame, poking her head inside. The sight was normal. But it never failed to instill pain into her heart.
Orpheus was on the floor, back turned to her. He was crouched over, arms cradling that guitar he took everywhere. As he strummed the strings, his voice repeated the same lines over and over again. “But what he doesn't know… but what he doesn't know is that what he is defending.. has.. disappeared.”
Orpheus exhaled through his mouth and shook his head. “But what he doesn't know is that what he is defending.. is already.. gone.” He corrected, continuing to recite the same notes he has been practicing for months now. All his la’s were starting to get in Eurydice's head.
It was clear he had been working all day. She cleared her throat. He didn't look up.
Eurydice tried again. “Orpheus.” She said gently, hoping to break him out of his stupor. He did not hear her.
“Doubt that she’ll never come..” He sang, backtracking to his earlier lines. “Doubt that.. Persephone.. his lover.. will ever come back..”
She frowned. Eurydice released her hold on the door frame and stepped towards him. “Orpheus? I'm home, honey. I got food, a lot more than last–”
“La la la la la la la.” Orpheus interrupts, breaking out into his chorus.
Okay, now this was ridiculous. Eurydice walked right up to him, peering over his shoulder to examine his face. His expression almost made her take a step back.
Whenever Orpheus sang, he seemed to be at peace. It was one of the only things that brought him solace. But when Eurydice stared into his face, all she could see was distress. His eyes were clenched shut, his eyebrows were furrowed, his strumming hand was clenching the pick like it was a lifeline. This was not normal. This wasn't Orpheus singing. This was Orpheus reliving a nightmare.
Eurydice immediately crouched down in front of him, calling out his name to him again. He did not respond.
She was beginning to seriously worry for his health when he suddenly stopped strumming. “The River.. Styx.” Orpheus peered down at his notes, somehow not noticing his lover's presence. “I spelled Styx wrong.” He set his guitar down to fix his notes.
Eurydice took this as her chance. She leaned forwards, placing both hands on his thighs. She moved towards him, staring into the eyes that finally met hers. “Orpheus. I'm back.”
A beat of silence. She scowled. She was about to criticize his lack of attention to his surroundings, but she never got the chance. Rather, she forgot whatever she was going to say when his eyes flashed with recognition and a smile spread across his face. “Eurydice!” He dropped that dreaded pen and wrapped his arms around her.
All of the exasperation and irritation she felt with his antics faded at the feeling of his arms around her. Eurydice slumped over in his embrace, head resting in the crook of his neck. “Hey. Missed you.” She lifted her head to give him a peck on the cheek.
Orpheus eventually pulled away to place both hands on her face. They shared another brief kiss, this time on the lips. Eurydice almost didn't remember why she had been mad at him until he pulled back and stared at her with that tired look in his eyes. “Missed you too, love. Really. I did.”
Eurydice cocked her head to the side. “Did you? Seems like you were more focused on your music than worrying about me.”
A look of horror crossed Orpheus's face. The tips of his ears gained a pinkish color and his hands moved to rest on her shoulders. “Ah. Oh, no! No. Sorry, sorry! I didn't know.. I mean, I suppose I didn't hear you come in. Gosh, Eurydice. I really didn't hear you.. I should've.”
Shit. Eurydice gave Orpheus a tired smile. She forgot that Orpheus couldn't always tell the difference between a jab and actual anger.
“Oh, Orpheus.” She shook her head. “I'm just teasing you. I'm not actually mad.” The relief that flickered through his face was enough to make her laugh out loud. “Though I did mean to distract you. What happened back there?”
Orpheus blinked at her. “Back where?“
“When you were singing. You seemed more stressed than calm. You're usually soothed by song.”
“I… I didn't realize that. Hm.” The troubled pout on Orpheus's lips was hilarious, but Eurydice knew he couldn't help but be so cute. “I'm not sure. I've just heard this song so many times.. whatever I write never seems to be right. It doesn't speak to me! See? Do you get chills from this line?”
Orpheus pulled away from their close contact to turn the notes on the floor towards her, pointing at a particular line.
Eurydice gave him a confused but supportive grin as she bent over to read his messy handwriting. “Ehm.. Maybe it'd feel more.. chilling.. when sang out loud?”
His eyes lit up and he nodded. Orpheus immediately reached for his guitar. Eurydice lunged forwards, grabbing both of his hands and holding them close to her heart. “No. Take a break. You've been playing all day, I can tell.”
Eurydice flipped his hands over, placing her palms on top of his. The tips of his fingers were red, the indents from the strings marking the additional calluses he got from years of the guitar. She sighed and lifted both of his hands to her mouth, kissing the back of them as if that would make everything better.
Orpheus smiled his big, stupid, dumb smile. “Sorry.” Eurydice simply shook her head, but of course he kept going.
“I don't know what comes over me when I sing. It's like… something just clouds over my mind, all I can really focus on is the music.”
“I know.” Eurydice murmured. “But now that I'm here, you're not getting lost for the rest of the night. I brought food.”
Orpheus gave her a look of admiration. “In this day in age? How do you ever manage it?”
Now this was the Orpheus that Eurydice woke up to every morning. “A lot of cunning. And fighting skills. More importantly, wrestling skills.”
“Wrestling?”
“I'm pretty sure that guy ended up with a black eye.”
Orpheus laughed. A pretty sound. “I don't doubt it. You're a powerhouse.”
Eurydice sighed. No matter how much Orpheus complemented her she could never get used to it. “Nah. I just know how to survive. And now that we have food, I'm cooking it. Come on, you need to eat something.”
She lifted herself off the ground, pulling Orpheus up with her. He let out a groan as he took a few steps forward to stretch his legs. “Ow! Ow! I really haven't moved much!”
“At all.” Eurydice teased, elbowing him. It was a bad idea. The simplest of shoves almost sent him reeling to the ground. Her hand shot out and steadied him. “Orpheus. You're weak as a toddler learning how to walk for the first time.” She chided, the worry and concern returning to her face.
Orpheus shook his head. “I'm fine. I've just been sitting for too long.” He placed a hand on his stomach and another on Eurydice's shoulder. “And now, I'm famished.” His stomach then growled as proof.
Eurydice couldn't help but chuckle, shaking her head. “You're ridiculous.”
She guided a laughing Orpheus down the hall, one of her arms draped across his lower back to hold his waist. He was mumbling about being able to make his stomach growl on command. But Eurydice wasn't listening. She was just watching with a smile, glad that she had been able to bring her lover back to his senses.
When the two reached the kitchen, Eurydice opened the pantry with her free hand. “I've got enough to spread some jam on pieces of bread and..turkey as a side? But only a few slices. We need to save that.”
She looked up at Orpheus, who's eyes were lingering on the pantry. “Mhm. That sounds good.” He said, but his voice was far away. Distant.
Eurydice frowned. “Are you sure? You don't sound like the biggest fan.”
His eyes widened and he immediately turned to her. “I'm sure! I was just thinking.”
“Not about food.” She observed. Orpheus was weird like that. Food was always the first thing on her mind.
He shook his head. “I think the bread and jam is a wonderful choice, baby.”
Eurydice raised an eyebrow at the term of endearment he rarely used. She was usually “lover” or “honey”. Baby was a rare one. He was just asking for it, wasn't he?
She reached up to kiss his cheek. “Okay. How about you get that out while I light the fire. You know, it was just a pile of wood and smoke when I came home. How did you not feel cold?”
Orpheus grimaced. “Too lost in the song, I guess. I was already sweating with the fire going, to be honest.”
Eurydice removed her arm from his waist. “No matter. You're back in the present now.” She said, though her voice held doubt. He was still out of it, she was sure.
She walked into the living room to stand in front of the dead fire. Eurydice reached down next to the fireplace, picking up a couple of logs and papers. She placed them carefully on top of the blackened wood. Then she pulled out a match and struck it against the surface of the box, igniting a tiny flame. She crouched over to toss it into the midst of wood and paper, making sure to toss a little lighter fluid into the mix.
As she watched the fire spring back to life, Eurydice shuffled closer on her knees. She sat there, bent over the fire, warming her bare arms for a few minutes.
Staring into the flames, Eurydice's mind began to wander. The fires didn't last as long as she would like them to. The heaviest of winds always seemed to blow against their home, trailing in through the fragile cracks, infiltrating their living space. Even the coldest nights of the springs were never this dastardly.
How could he have not felt the chill? Was Orpheus so caught up in his tunes that he became numb to everything? That was dangerous.
Eurydice glanced over, watching as her Orpheus glided around the kitchen with the kind of grace only he could own.
He was humming that tune again. Eurydice is sure that she's heard it so many times that she could sing it with him. She knew the way it went. It sung of Hades and Persephone and their love. It was supposed to bring back spring. After all, it brought a flower to Orpheus's hand with just a portion of the song being recited.
Eurydice looked back to the fire. She didn't want to admit it, but she was becoming worried. He seemed to be working on this song for months on end and was nowhere near being done. She'd never say it to his face. She would never plant any seeds of doubt in his mind. But they had already sprouted in hers, and it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore it.
Voices. Their insistent singing in the back of her head. They immediately snaked their way into her thoughts, even though she always tried to suppress them.
How effective is his song? Eurydice turned once again to watch Orpheus, who was now spreading jam on bread. Will it truly bring spring back? Or just a bunch of measly flowers?
Eurydice tensed. How long will it take? She rose to her feet and leaned against the wall. She couldn't tell which voice this was. Hers? Will spring be back by the time he is done? Will he sing himself to death for no reason?
Orpheus didn't have the song done. He wasn't close to having the song done. He said it himself. It was only a demo. Would a demo bring the warmth back to the world? Eurydice didn't think so.
He had already been working on it when they first met. Paused when Persephone came back. Then picked up the demo again when Persephone left for Hadestown.
He promised everything would be fixed with a simple song. Where's that power now?
“Shit!” Orpheus’s voice rang out, drowning out her horrid thoughts.
Eurydice zoned back in, watching as Orpheus dropped a piece of bread on the floor. He looked over at her dejectedly.
She rushed over to him and scooped up the bread from the floor. She dusted it off and placed it back onto the plate. “It isn't dirty.”
Orpheus stared before chuckling. “I guess. Glad you got the fire going. I was really starting to feel the chill.”
Eurydice took both plates in her hands and sat down on the floor in front of the fireplace. Orpheus followed, sitting next to her. They often did this, huddling in front of the fire, whispering about everything under the sun.
Their current silence was comforting as they ate, staring into the flames. Eurydice's head fell onto Orpheus's shoulder, causing him to lean his head onto hers.
Normally they'd be talking right now. But Eurydice didn't trust herself to not say something she wouldn't regret. To not discourage his project. To not urge him to stop neglecting his health for a song that may not even work.
Eurydice felt Orpheus lean into her more heavily, a tell tale sign that he was getting drowsy.
She reached up and ruffled his hair. In return Orpheus hugged her. His head moved from her shoulder to her chest as she leaned back.
“You tired?” She asked.
“Mm. I'm sorry I didn't hear you. I should've heard you. It's just that I..the song. The song needs to finish. I'm sorry.” Orpheus responded, words slurred by exhaustion.
Eurydice sighed. Even on the verge of sleep, Orpheus was apologizing for something she had already forgiven.
“I forgive you.” Eurydice muttered. “Stop apologizing.”
“Okay. Sorry.” He immediately looked up, a grin spreading across his face at her annoyed expression. “Nevermind. Not sorry.”
She nodded. “That's what I like to hear.”
That got a chuckle out of Orpheus. They sat in silence once again, Eurydice running her fingers through his hair.
She figured that they should get to bed. But the fire was warm. Orpheus was already asleep. She didn't want to wake him, worrying that he may not be able to fall back asleep. The floor wasn't that bad after all.
Eurydice tipped back, lying on her back. Orpheus seemed to move with her, head falling onto her chest once again.
Eurydice stared up at the ceiling, her own breathing slowing down. In the morning, Orpheus would be back to his guitar. Eurydice would be gathering firewood. And things wouldn't change. They wouldn't change unless he finished that song.
She trusted Orpheus. She really did. She trusted him to complete the song in time. She trusted him to bring spring back for her.
She just wondered how long she would.