Hades stood near the window, moping in his own quiet way. Stupid Zeus. Always getting the attention. And he didn’t act humble about it. He didn’t even pretend to act humble about it! At least Poseidon would occasionally be on Hades’ side. But Poseidon had other things to deal with, more “pressing matters”, he called it. So most of the time, Hades was stuck, in the same house, in the same room, staring out the same stupid window, alone.
He could here Zeus down the hall, talking to the parents of some girl or other. “Hera,” he thought. “That was it.”
“So,” Zeus started, “I was just hoping by chance, that you would let me escort your daughter out to dinner for her birthday. I just figured it would be some way of showing her how special she was. Though, no food on a platter can compete with her gloriousness.” He turned toward the father, and only someone who truly knew him could hear the sarcasm in his voice as he bowed and said, “Sir.”
Hades snorted. He couldn’t help it. This was the seventh time this week he had asked some girl out on a date, and it was only Tuesday.
“Why, I’m sure she would be flattered by your offer. With your charming good looks and charisma, we might have a wedding before long,” gushed the mother. She started imagining her daughter, walking down a rose covered aisle, wearing a beautiful white dress, with pearls and diamonds, and having glitter trail behind her, like pixy dust.
Zeus smiled, but it was hollow, meaningless. He didn’t care. He never cared about these girls, or about these families. They were just a distraction for him. A…pleasurable distraction.
Even though his smile meant nothing, the mother’s heart fluttered. “Handsome boy,” she thought.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was nightfall. Poseidon walked through the door, a satchel strung loosely on his shoulder, a couple books gripped tightly to his chest. His lips were purse, a line had formed between his brows, and each breath sounded more like an agonized moan than an intake of oxygen.
Hades slightly stepped out of the shadows, the lamp light casting strange orange-ish glows on his face and eyes, looking like fire burning from within.
Poseidon didn’t look up, merely sensing Hades’ presence there. He didn’t utter a greeting either. “Too busy,” Hades thought. “Always too busy.”
Still, Poseidon was all the family Hades really had. So, even though it hurt, he ignored the fact he was brushed off by the one person he could confide in, the one person he didn’t completely hate on this retched planet.
So, instead of ignoring Poseidon as well and going off to sulk in his room, he started the conversation.
“What’s wrong? You look weary.”
Poseidon finally looked up, only to glance briefly at Hades as he walked past him and say, “I’m always weary.”
Hades snorted, and then said, “I meant that you look particularly weary today.”
“I merely came across something in my studies that gave me a bit of a shock. Nothing more.”
And with that, he finished walking to his room, and shut the door. Though the echoing in Hades’ ears, and the remnants of stirred dust in the air left the impression of something much rougher.
Hades walked back up to his room, and even though he had waited for hours at the door to see his brother, that brief moment of contact was enough for him to sleep that night without nightmares.
For once.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No comments:
Post a Comment