That Fatal Kiss by Mina Lobo

solemnly, “You’ve seen today what my world is like. I’ve only ever known darkness, with no light to warm it. Are you surprised that I would seek you out?”
    The goddess did not answer. Instead, she peered into his eyes, and Hades felt as though she wordlessly implored him to bare himself further. Sensing this, he felt compelled to comply. “I think I can name the moment which decided me in my quest for you. Not long ago, I watched you at a feast on Olympus. You were all engaged in lighthearted discourse when Hephaestus, who was very late, arrived. He was covered with soot and dirt from his toil in his volcanic workshop. He’d hastened to the feast, knowing he was tardy, and had not stopped at home first to bathe. Aphrodite was the first to ridicule him for his appearance, shaming him with harsh words, and the others joined her in her mockery. I watched them lay into the pitiful thing, one by one, mercilessly.” Hades shook his head in disgust. “As the rest had their fill of abusing him, I saw you wink at Athena, who somehow knew to join you in taking a step away from the table. I had not a clue as to what you were about until I saw the shower of water come down upon them all, cleansing Hephaestus of his grime but utterly destroying the finery of the others, until he alone remained unsoiled and the rest bore the appearance of drowned cats.” Now he could not keep a broad grin from his face. “That was brilliantly executed, by the way. And brave, considering you hadn’t even spared your father. Zeus, knowing very well that you’d caused the deluge, vowed to take you to task for it, only you’d disappeared. Luckily for you, Pallas remained and persuaded him to put aside his ire. She even pulled Hephaestus to her side, though he once attempted to violate her.” He paused for breath. “Your sister possesses a fine mind, from which you have greatly benefited. The two of you share a consideration for others that is unparalleled by any Immortal. It was this single act of kindness, I’m afraid, which sealed your fate. By taking Hephaestus into your heart, you made me want to take residence there as well.”
    “Then why did you not allow me the opportunity to invite you?”
    Hades could scarcely credit his ears. “Would you have done so?”
    “How can I answer that now? I was not made privy to your intentions, nor was I allowed to either deny or embrace them. I cannot speak for what I may have felt or done, I can only speak for what I feel now.”
    A thrill of fear, mingled with dangerous hope, shot through his stomach. “And what do you feel now? Remember, you asked that I speak plainly. I entreat you to do the same.”
    It was Persephone who now looked away. “The truth is that I feel many things, most contradictory, and I cannot comprehend why I am so conflicted.”
    “Tell me of these inconsistencies.”
    She grasped the soft blanket on the bed and twisted it. “Hades,” she began, “did you know that I wanted to wed?”
    “I did. It’s why I chose to pursue you, at this time.”
    “I see. Well, my mother ruled the search of a husband for me. Had there been anyone who captured my heart, there would have been no question of my actions. I would have wed him and borne my mother’s anger, if it was forthcoming, secure in the knowledge that I loved and was loved. Secure in my autonomy. Those were the issues at stake; the lack of any particularly desirable suitor and that my own mother, though she loves me dearly, did not heed my wishes to let me choose for myself. Had I known of your interest, had you come to me as a peer, acknowledging our equality as immortal gods, perhaps we could have courted, properly. Instead, your will overrode my own, leaving me without any choice. Should I accept such injustice?”
    “Do you think you could yet come to choose me?”
    “Have you the courage to allow for the possibility of refusal?”
    “No.”
    When Persephone offered him a teasing smile, he could not help but