Wandering the dim,

Hades searches.

 

Dancing through the light,

Persephone considers.

 

He surrounds himself with darkness - a reflection.

Inexplicably drawn to her glow.

 

It's a classic story,

the two starcrossed lovers,

divided by invisible social lines.

Cliche- dark edge dancing with bubbly lights.

 

Yet the stories ring with truth.

 

Loner, isolated Hades finds himself drawn to the

girl on top- clad in bright colors, hair like honey, straightened to 

Perfection- yes, she is perfection.

Cheeks colored with a tasteful amount of blush, eyebrows plucked and filled.

Eyelashes coated in mascara, lips immaculately glossed.

 

Meanwhile, Hades...

wears unassuming blacks and greys.

The boy in the gutter- never smiling, eyes turned downwards.

Draws angry, scratchy sketches in a black leatherbound book.

He draws her, and it looks like his sorrow has infected her.

 

He vows never to draw her again.

His golden princess.

 

Persephone spends her evenings with her flowers she so loves to cultivate.

When asked about future plans, she pushes glasses up her nose.

Botany- the science of it is fascinating.

Hades admires the marriage of intelligence, creativity and ambition.

 

What are you drawing?

She asks one day.

He freezes. Your flowers.

Can I see?

He passes her the book, wanting to jump in his locker and slam the door.

A laugh shimmering with gold.

It's me!

Hades looks down.

I love it.

Hades looks up.

Warm brown eyes meet his, they warm him.

Come with me to the garden.

 

He follows, feeling a small glow in his chest.