PERSEPHONE

Persephone watched as the tears welled up again in Evren’s eyes. She felt a strange twist of satisfaction in her stomach, knowing that her words had hit their mark. It was the first time she had wanted to hurt her like that – to twist the knife and make her squirm. A small part of her cringed at the thought – at her cruel, pointed words – but right now that part of her was too numb, too powerless to override her pain.

The quiet that fell over the pair then was stiff and uncomfortable. The only sound was that of the rain pattering down around them. By now, Persephone’s pelt was almost soaked through, and a chill was creeping into her skin, but her mind was so preoccupied that she could barely feel it. She focused on steadying her breathing, the dramatic flare of her nostrils betraying her tense state of mind. She waited, frozen, for Evren’s response.

Whatever Persephone had been expecting her to say, this was not it. Her ears flicked backwards at the pain in Evren’s voice, at the anger, at the… resentment. Persephone swallowed as Evren’s gaze found her own once more and her voice grew stronger and louder. She looked back reluctantly, scared of what she might find in those beautiful eyes.

“Do you want me to shout at you?” Persephone began, her voice wavering slightly from the tightness in her throat. “Do you want me to yell, and rage, and scream and shout?”

Her words grew louder and angrier as she spoke, until she was shouting – until her words ran together hot and fast and so sharp they felt like they might cut her tongue. She hated the way she sounded – the way the pain made her anger sound more shrill than commanding, more pathetic than powerful – the way it made her face twist and contort.

“Is this what you want? Because I don’t. I’ve been there before – I’ve been angry. I’ve yelled at those who crossed me – lovers who betrayed me, misled me – and you know what happens when you do that? They leave! They leave you. And then you’re bitter and you’re angry and you’re alone, and it eats you up inside. I’ve been angry, and I don’t want to go back.”

Persephone fell quiet suddenly, her throat feeling raw and strained, as if the words had been like sandpaper coming up. She shook her head and sighed before continuing, quieter this time.

“I’m not perfect. Maybe I try too hard to be – I feel such pressure to look after everyone, to protect them – to protect you. Maybe that’s not what you need. I don’t need perfect. I don’t want you to be perfect, or to be ‘as good as me’ – I just want you to be good to me. I want you to trust that you can be imperfect with me, or else how can I ever trust that I can be that with you?”

She stopped, her voice weaker now, trembling. She closed her eyes, tears escaping disobediently. There was a long pause.

“I’m going to need some time.”

all of your demons will wither away

mixed, bay varnish roan, 14.3hh