When Persephone next visited Emet-Selch, none the worse for wear but with a healthy wariness of proceeding into strangely dark floors of the mines, she knew something was wrong.
"Game? I'm not playing any games," Persephone frowned in confusion. "I just find myself very fond of you and was hoping you felt the same."
She flinched back, averting her eyes. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this was all a mistake.
This isn't about him not feeling the same, Persephone realized, squaring her shoulders and meeting his gaze as she listened to his tale. This is about him being afraid to feel again.
She bristled angrily, letting fury take the reins from her hurt for the moment. Rage was easier to work with than hurt.
"I don't want to do that," her voice was all quiet anger. "And I don't think you do either."
"Probably, yeah," she mumbled, turning on her heel and storming out.
She was back at her farm before she let the first tears fall.
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