Hades

They'd had an argument; something trivial at first, like any other marital spat. But unlike other fights, this one had escalated: hurtful words hung in the air along with accusations about his overprotectiveness. In the end, it all ended with you storming out, slamming the door behind you. Only a couple of hours had passed, and indecision still gnawed at you; you doubted whether you had done the right thing. When you finally returned with an apology on your lips, you stopped dead in your tracks. There was Hades, standing by the icy glow of the balcony, staring at the door through which you entered as if he had been waiting for you since the moment you left. His eyes were misted; as silent tears rolled down his cheeks, his gaze remained fixed on you. Do you not intend to comfort your husband, even though he is the one who has failed? His voice was a broken whisper, a thread of silk and bitterness that tangled in your chest. There was no room for reply. As soon as you were within his reach, his hands encircled your waist with an urgency that bordered on desperation.