. . .
“What glitters may not be gold; and even wolves may smile; and fools will be led by promises to their deaths.”
–Lauren Oliver
. . .
PROSERPINA:
As romantic as this was, dancing under the moonlight in the place where they first met, Proserpina could not hear the blasted song Alastor was speaking of and was too annoyed for being spun around in the air like a ragdoll.
He was just carrying her and spinning her round and round, anyways. Could this still be even considered as dancing?
She begs to differ.
“I'm leaving,” Proserpina informed him, planting her hands on his shoulders firmly, wanting to be put down now.
His eyes widened, looking up at her with large soulful dark eyes, his head tilting a bit in confusion... like a puppy.
She sighed, “Alastor put me–”
He spun her around again, laughing maniacally, “NOPE! UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME, OH! UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOOOME~”
‘AHAHAHAHAHA–!’
She lowered her head, resigning herself to her fate, to this embarrassingly long night, groaning loudly in defeat while Alastor continued to perform his strange, one-man farce of a dance with the goddess of shadows still trapped in his arms.
If she can, if such a feat is possible Proserpina, goddess of shadows and heir to the underworld wanted to die in embarrassment right now.
She really, really wanted to die.
She was far too sober for this!
If this was her usual night, she would have been out somewhere around the world stalking or hunting down prey in the most unlikely places, she could even be lingering in some hospital's ER or in a certain continent, taking and guiding hordes of souls to the underworld for Thanatos.
But somehow, things have changed since she crossed paths with Alastor Nyx. Had this night gone the way she intended, Proserpina would have cleared things up with him right away; in the end, Alastor would have been disgusted and mad at her most likely, would be leaving her in curses and maybe in tears too while she would be miserable as hell but resigned nonetheless since that was how it should be.
Ideally, Proserpina would be stuffing her mouth with those colorful cupcakes she had been ogling at Selena's to her broken heart's content until her brother comes to drag her for their trip when morning comes.
Unfortunately–or was it fortunate?–that scenario never happened.
It's strange, though... normally; Proserpina would have been annoyed with how things played out because one, Alastor had gone as far to ignore her message (which was fair, considering what she had done, but still...). Two, he had caused her to personally come fetch him in a freaking club she'd rather drop dead before being spotted going in.
Thanatos would never let her live that down.
Three, her other half smells like alcohol and a sickeningly sweet perfume that she just… wanted to scrub off of him.
Four, Alastor may not be serious and sober but he still threatened her with suicide to probably make her stay with him which was worrying in and out of itself. Five, she wasn't sure but... she wanted to believe Alastor was just trying to guilt-trip her with crocodile tears earlier.
And last, being carried and spun around like a freaking ragdoll was definitely the cherry on top of her hate list.
Oh, wait no.
She also happened to see the other half of her soul flirting with that meddlesome goddess... stupid Aphrodite looked far too pleased with herself before winking out of existence.
Proserpina should have punched her.
(Not a good idea, but, still, tempting.)
On hindsight, while Proserpina knows she should be glad that Alastor might actually have a chance of a capability to move on now since they couldn't be together, the irrational feeling of bubbling rage, the sudden desire to drag every single living being in the dance floor by the hair kicking and screaming for mercy to the burning pits of hell for what she just saw was tempting.
It was frightening how sudden, how furious she had been in that one moment. Good thing Alastor had taken the initiative to tear himself away from that useless goddess before she–
‘Yes?’ Thanatos drawled, completely unimpressed, ‘...you'll what, my dear? You'll skin the goddess of love alive and cause a scene? You’ll make an enemy not only out love, but half of Olympus itself.’
It wouldn't be a scene if there are no witnesses left to watch.
‘What will your father say?’ he chided.
Proserpina screwed her eyes shut in annoyance, breathing on synch with a steady heartbeat to reign in her flaring temper.
Rationally, there is no use over thinking about things that never–would never–happen. What's done is done... Thanatos should just keep his mouth shut and be grateful that they didn't actually have to collect souls that weren't due to descend the underworld. Let alone a divine soul.
Proserpina released an audible sigh as Alastor's impromptu performance finally, finally came to an end, still trapped in his arms with her forehead pressed to his chest as he swayed side to side and continued to hum the song under his breath.
Her voice was a quiet murmur amidst the steady beat of his heart, “I should go,”
Until you come back home, oh…
Even though he'd been lost in his own world for a while now, Alastor's head suddenly snapped to attention at her words, the vivid dark chocolate brown in his eyes looked so sincere, so sweet–she can almost taste its flavor in her tongue.
Proserpina has always been fond of sweet things.
“Wait... you…” his lower lip jutted out slightly, the beginning of an unhappy pout, “You mean you're leaving?”
Proserpina bit her own lip, looking away to keep her gaze pointedly trained on the starry skies instead of staring outright to the lips that kissed her.
“...I have to.”
“Will I see you again?”
The heavy, bitter feeling of guilt began to rear its ugly head at his hopeful tone once more.
“Who knows,” Proserpina muttered, pulling away from him as soon Alastor allowed her feet to touch the ground, “...I still have matters to attend to far from here–”
She paused at the feeling of his large hand enclosing around her wrist.
“What if I come with you?”
“You have a life here,” she canted her head ever so slightly to look at him in the eye over her shoulder with a tone of what she hoped to be finality, “...and life is too short to focus on such trivial matters.”
“Focusing on your mate is not trivial,” Alastor frowned, “...and you're important to me.”
How warm.
Alastor had always felt so warm and alive to the touch... and Proserpina fully intended to keep it that way.
Proserpina tensed, remembering herself and none to gently pull her wrist free from his grip, she had a feeling that he just let her, “Don't be ridiculous Nyx. We just met.”
“What the hell, Winters? Does that supposed to matter?” the way Alastor stared at her suddenly made her feel like she was the one being ridiculous here and for one crazy second, she was almost inclined to give in.
“It does matter to me,” she says instead.
“Of course it does,” he snaps, “You're my mate!”
“And so what?!” Proserpina hissed, backing away from him, ignoring the way his eyes widened with panic at that, “To hell what that supposed to mean. We don't even know each other!”
“Then let's try to get to know each other!” he all but cried.
Proserpina stared back at his imploring gaze, stunned that someone could actually render her speechless and in awe like this for what felt like the nth time in such a short span of time. It was a frightening power. And she bit on her lip, hard; she was distantly aware that if she bites down longer, it will bleed.
And if it hurts, good.
Let the pain remind her of what trusting another had cost her, what will cost her now should she allow this–whatever this is–to happen.
She backed away from the soul who let her go... only for him to try to follow her again with every step like the shadows that served her.
‘Now, isn't this nostalgic?’
Hadn't they done the same song and dance before, right in this very ground? She had been the one to pull away too only for him to relentlessly push forward until she gave up to the whims of fate and to him.
But she didn't want to give in.
She didn't even want to have a soul mate in the first place! Proserpina was aware she didn't deserve it, no matter how much the goddess of love herself meddles in the shadows’ affairs.
She didn't... deserve this.
However... no matter how hard Proserpina tried to convince him as well as herself, to list out all the reasons in her mind and out loud just to justify why she couldn't just agree to what Alastor wants, Proserpina still–
(Despite all of her intricately formed plans that seem to effortlessly fall apart like ashes on the wind in his presence, against all reasons, against her logic, her fears and even though there was a part of me that already knows, can already see that this is going to end with nothing but tears...)
Never mind the eerie, resigned murmurs emanating from the god of death within the recesses of her mind because why didn't you listen to me? I warned you, you fool, you poor fool...
This is insanity and yet, and yet…
–Proserpina found herself considering.
“You told me we don't have to be lovers,” her voice finally came out in a rush, knowing that if she tries to stop the words now, she will simply take it all back and pretend they had never been said, “...that we don't have to love each other like that. What do you mean by that?”
“As long you'll let me stay,” Alastor answered, almost instantly, and she knows this is his desperation speaking by now, “As long you'll be where I know. I wouldn’t mind, I promise...”
“Is that alright with you?”
Wouldn't it be selfish of me to ask this of you?
A flicker of hope gleamed in those vivid eyes instead, “I just don't want you to go places I can't reach, Winters.”
“What if I have to?”
“Then... promise that you'll come back to me?” a fragile, watery smile played on his lips, “But this time, please don't break that promise.”
I am already breaking another by daring to agree with yours. “There will be a lot of time I'll disappear for days, even months...” Proserpina regarded him, “Is that alright with you?”
Do you know, Alastor?
“That's fine, I can wait– ...wait,” Alastor's eyes suddenly widened, his face going through a series of expressions until the words settled, a strange mix of joy and disbelief blooming across his face, “Hold a damn minute, does this mean you–?”
Do you realize what I've done?
“If I give in to you,” Proserpina interrupted, half-wondering what will Hades do once he found out what she had done, what she was bounding herself to, “...will you give in to me too?”
What you have made me do?
But the warm smile that bloomed on his face made it feel for a moment like this was going to be worth it.
And somehow, somehow–
Proserpina already knew the answer before Alastor opened his smiling mouth, before he even voiced out an answer to the promise:
“Of course.”
…somehow, it felt like it was going to be more than enough.
For as long you'll have me, then I'd like to have you as well goes unspoken; in any way you'll let me, in any way I can.
A lot of things went unspoken between them but for once, for once Proserpina feels like they have reached the same page. But at their core, isn't that what makes a promise? Promises are an agreement founded in mutual trust and even if they are felt, they will always be the words that linger in our minds, in our hearts; promises will always be the words that remain unsaid. And while this promise may or may not be worth it (this was for her to judge for many years to come), she dares to hope that it will be one he or she won't come to regret.
Because if all else fails in the end, at the very least Proserpina can comfort herself with the fact that she did tried to make him see things her way.
He was just too stubborn, even for her.
…Alastor Nyx really is her soul mate.