Chapter 13
Persy
I realized I’d probably messed up about halfway through the night.
I was still learning, and sometimes I caught myself letting my own experiences affect a situation without realizing it.
And I was pretty sure my attempts to clamp down on my hope and the awful realization that I was attracted to Sebastian made him believe that I was furious with him.
Furious wasn’t the right word. I was a little mad and a little disappointed that he’d reverted back to the version of himself that lashed out as a means to distance himself.
But I’d also seen the way his eyes went wild with panic when he realized what he did. And he’d apologized.
Verbally.
Saying the words—I am sorry.
I thought I’d have to wait until at least the third month of this arrangement for that, but no.
Sebastian had apologized.
Maybe I should have explained to him that I wasn’t mad at him, or that he hadn’t shocked me. Yes, what he said was rude. Yes, he should have apologized.
But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t making progress.
I’d seen people lock up for years, with far less to feel guilty for.
The fact that he apologized in the first place, and that quick, was something.
I wouldn’t let him think that it was okay, but there was hope. He understood what the right thing to do was, I just needed him to see the value of it.
The way my body had reacted at the gruff, almost pleading tone to his voice was an entirely different matter.
Problem. An entirely different problem.
I’d been so caught up in my own head, trying to figure out a way to navigate the little opening of remorse he”d shown, while also trying to maintain my composure that I’d thought, last night at least, that it was better to head to bed early.
But based on the way Sebastian was inching around me like I’d lash out and bite him made me think that he thought I was irrevocably upset with him.
That wouldn’t do.
I didn’t want to lose the rapport we’d built. It was that need, and the fact that we had things to do today that were sure to be slightly tense, that had me reaching for the book in the center of the kitchen island.
He was quiet all morning, a mumbly, grumbly version of himself. That didn’t mean he was ignoring me. No, he was rather … attentive.
I had coffee in my hand within seconds of turning the corner to the kitchen. I felt his eyes on me all morning, like he was waiting for me to wince so he had an excuse to tend to an injury.
I guess that was how his guilt manifested. It was entirely unrelated that it made my stomach tighten.
Fates help me, this was so wrong.
As I reached for the olive branch in the form of a book, it also gave me a moment of reprieve from Sebastian’s hunched over shoulders, the blades flat against his skin while he painstakingly placed eggs onto the plates my father had given me as a housewarming gift.
When I’d walked out of my room this morning, ready to return to normal, he’d already been back from the studio. He looked like he’d been in there for hours based on the collection of paint splattering his clothes, some colors more dried down than others.
I’d noticed it a few days ago, but there was always a great deal of a grayish-purple color paint on his clothes. There was more of that color than anything else today.
I smothered the little trickle of curiosity before it could erupt into a flame that would have me crossing a major boundary.
I wouldn’t violate his privacy when I’d asked him to respect mine. It wasn’t like I was hiding any secrets behind that door, but I felt protective over it.
Shaking the thought from my head and picking up the book, I turned to him.
“Sebastian,” I tried, even though that hadn’t worked all morning. He was giving me nothing but small grunts and noncommittal responses.
Well, I wasn’t a fan of that.
“Seeing as it’s a losing game trying to serve myself in this house,” I said, hoping the light lilt of my tone would lure him out. “I’m gonna sit down, and since we don’t do thank yous either,” that was changing, but he didn’t have to know that, “I’ll just be kind and keep you apprised of my progress.”
I could see Sebastian turn right as my eyes dropped to the pages of the book in my hands. He started to say my name, but I didn’t listen.
I began reading out loud, picking up right where we’d left off while he was cooking. I guess it wouldn’t have been wrong for me to keep reading when I went to bed, but I picked up a different book any way.
Something clattered down onto the counter, briefly snapping my shoulders together, but I managed to keep my voice level as I moved through the chapter. This was a fun part actually, a scene where all of the characters were seated at dinner together, volleying quips and banter over the table.
I adjusted my voice slightly with each new character, hoping it helped him keep track of who was speaking. I made it through a page when a plate of steaming eggs, topped with small green herbs that I was sure Kostas had told me the name of at some point, and bread with butter and jam appeared in front of me.
It was the breakfast I used to make myself every morning, but at a severely lowered degree of skill.
I stopped reading, looking up to find Sebastian’s eyes darker than I was used to, like paint that was covered in aging varnish. “Did you know this was my favorite breakfast?”
Sebastian dropped his gaze to the plate, crossing his arms over his chest. “You should eat before the eggs get cold.”
I picked up my fork and ate a bite of eggs just to prove a point, but also had to clamp down on a noise building in the back of my throat. I didn’t realize how severely my diet was lacking in flavor until now. “We have a busy day. You need to eat, too.”
All of the sudden, it seemed imperative that he feed himself.
Sebastian matched my movement, though much stabbier, and shoved eggs in his mouth. A small smile twitched at the corner of his lips, clearly pleased with his own culinary prowess.
On any other morning, I might have pointed it out. Today, I asked again, “Did you know this was my favorite breakfast?”
Sebastian took another bite of eggs, raising one eyebrow as if to say I can’t answer, I’m eating.
I stood, coming around the counter to stand next to him. He watched me like I was a wild animal coming up to him in the woods and he was trying not to move too fast and spook me.
I leaned my hip against the counter, realizing too late how close I’d stepped up to him. My brain just hadn’t stopped me any sooner.
Sebastian clearly realized I wasn’t going to give it up. “The only food you had in your fridge when I moved in that would make breakfast were eggs, jam, and butter. I guessed.”
I nodded slowly, scared of any other reaction I might have, because that was something I would have noticed. I never thought I’d meet a person who saw the world the way I did, and I’d accepted long ago that there would always be a bit of distance between me and everyone else.
I’d made peace with it, accepted that I’d always feel a sliver of isolation and loneliness. So much so, I wasn’t quite sure how to handle the realization that there was someone else out there—and the fact that person was Sebastian of all people.
Just move forward. It was the only thing I knew worked. “I have something planned for us today.”
“I have plans,” Sebastian said, his voice still rough and grumbly.
I almost asked him to stop speaking in that tone. I could hardly focus when he did, which was why it took me a second too long to realize what he’d said. “With who?”
Sebastian kept his eyes on his plate, stabbing his eggs like they’d personally offended him. “I’m meeting Penn at three.”
Breathe, Persy. Don’t get too excited. “I’ll have you back by then, I promise.”
We were both early risers, it seemed. I enjoyed mornings, but I did wish that there was a bit more sunlight. The sky outside was a pale blue that was waiting for the sun to rise.
Now that I was noticing it, it did seem slightly brighter.
Sebastian’s response pulled my focus before I could think about that further. “Where are you dragging me to?”
I smiled, just a half grin. “I think you’ll like it, so do you want to try asking me that again? Nicer, perhaps?”
A little flicker of life appeared in Sebastian’s expression, returning to me. Returning to his old self, I forcefully corrected.
Sebastian grinned for the first time all morning, and unfortunately, that made my chest swell with pride. “What do you have in store, love?”
“That’s better,” I said, my lips breaking into a full smile. Sebastian’s grin dropped an inch, but reset casually. I wasn’t sure what that meant.
He seemed to be more willing to engage in conversation now, and I didn’t want to risk interrupting the flow. I leaned over the counter and reached for my plate and fork, planning to eat standing like he was.
By the time I straightened with my food in hand, Sebastian was leaning against the opposite counter, a frown cemented on his face.
Oh.
I kept the disappointment off my face as I responded, “A museum. I thought we could look at the new installation in the University of Athena gallery.” There was also another reason I’d chosen that place, but—
“And you thought seeing some of my own art might remind me of the value of my power?”
Well. When you were caught red-handed like that, it was only natural to just admit it. “As a matter of fact, yes.”
Sebastian released a breath of laughter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well played. You want to leave now?”
I really thought I was going to have to drag him out of Prometheus. This was good. I nodded quickly. “Plenty of time for you to get back to Penn.”
Sebastian dipped his chin once. “Eat first. Then you can drag me wherever you want.”
“That’s a dangerous promise. One might think you’d just given me permission to take you wherever I want after any meal.”
Sebastian just shrugged. “Alright.”
Wait, was he … okay with that?
Nope, time to leave again. Except this time, the only thing I could do was refocus on my food. Sebastian had finished his while he was ignoring me, but I still had a ways to go.
I almost choked on my food after two bites in, when I heard the distinct sound of a book opening and Sebastian’s throat clearing.
Oh, no. Please no.
He began reading, picking up right where I left off.
My hand tightened on my fork, the metal biting into my skin. It was all I could do not to fall over. I couldn’t look at him, that would only make this worse.
His power was wafting off him in waves, turning something as simple as reading into the most intoxicating thing I’d ever heard. I should have expected it—the god of poetry and all—but it was an entirely different thing to be confronted with it.
It was so … intimate.
My other hand curled over the marble counter top, not even finding an inch of the purchase I needed to stay upright. I felt like I was going to fall over.
“Eat,” Sebastian’s voice came from behind me, making my knees feel a little wobbly. “We have places to be.”
It took me a solid five minutes to get through half a piece of toast and three bites of eggs. Sebastian seemed fairly immersed in the story, because he didn’t say anything else about how slow I was eating. I wouldn’t complain either, not when his voice was spreading warmth through my body, just like the midday sun would.
?
The mistakes didn’t stop there.
I hadn’t accounted for what seeing Sebastian in his element would do to me.
After quickly getting ready, we’d stepped right through a portal to the steps leading to the art gallery located in the heart of the University of Athena. The entire campus was one perfect study in architectural mastery, the towering limestone buildings and perfectly maintained landscape was the perfect backdrop for the academic advancements that took place there every day.
I hadn’t even realized that Sebastian and I had struck up an easy conversation until we had to cut it off to greet the curator of the gallery. I’d coordinated with Daphne, letting her know that we were coming.
That was unnecessary, it seemed.
The curator, Aren, damn near fell over when she saw Sebastian even though she had been told he was coming. She was beautiful, her dark brown hair hanging down around her shoulders and her confidence as obvious as the bright red color of her sweater.
“Lord Apollo I must say it is an honor to have you visit,” she mused, reaching her hand out to shake Sebastian’s. When he placed his hand in hers, my shoulder blades started to itch. “I think you’ll be pleased to see how your work has been preserved, in addition to the pieces we’ve added to the collection over the years.”
“It’s appreciated,” Sebastian returned with an easy, charming smile on his mouth. “Though I must say the credit must be given to Persy for setting it up.”
Aren blinked, turning to me like she just noticed I’d been standing there. “Oh, right. Well, Lady Jupiter, it’s great to have you as well.” I didn’t believe her, but I could at least respect that she’d attempted to be polite.
“Persy is fine,” I said, keeping my smile easy. Even though my stomach was churning, my body feeling out of place at a bustling university when I was so used to my quiet corner of the world, I wouldn’t let it show. “Lady Jupiter is my sister-in-law.”
“Of course,” Aren responded, though it appeared she was speaking to Sebastian more than me. “Well, hopefully you can pass along an invitation to her and Lord Jupiter to come visit soon.”
Okay, I did not like her. I didn’t enjoy having negative feelings towards anyone, but it was rather unavoidable with her. I was used to people going through me to get to my brother, but it never grated quite like it did with Aren.
And she was still looking at Sebastian, openly ogling him while he was scanning the tops of the columns where they met the facade of the gallery.
I was well aware that his strong throat looked particularly good when he tilted his head back, but she didn’t need to notice that too.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Aren said, trying to get Sebastian’s attention.
He heard her, I could tell, but he didn’t really acknowledge her. He looked down from his perusal of the architecture lining the entrance to the gallery and turned to me. “Where did you want to go?”
Aren, in all her annoyingly perfect glory, decided it was appropriate to cut in. “I thought we’d start in the main hall, where some of the more famous pieces are displayed, then onto the special collections.”
Sebastian turned to her, giving her a slow, slightly confused once over before returning his attention to me. “You didn’t tell me we had a tour guide, love.”
I would find no satisfaction in the way Aren freezed up when Sebastian called me love. It would be weird to explain to her that he only used that term of endearment to get a rise out of me. That was the only reason I was okay with her believing there was anything behind that word.
Sort of.
Even though I wanted to kindly tell Aren to fuck off, even though I had never told a soul that in my entire life, I kept a smile on my face. Whatever mental breakdown I was having didn’t give me a free pass to be rude. Even if I wanted to. “If Aren would like to give us a tour, that would be great,” I said, pleased my words sounded kind and polite. Mostly.
Sebastian made an odd sound in the back of his throat that made my cheeks feel hot on instinct. Almost like he’d caught me.
Aren’s eyes were on Sebastian as she said, “I’d love to show you around, Lord Apollo.”
Did she really expect me to just leave them alone?
Wait, maybe that was what Sebastian wanted. Part of this was giving him the freedom to do what he wanted, and that included taking disturbingly flirtatious museum curators up on offers to tour a gallery, no matter how much that thought soured my stomach.
I was clearly losing it.
Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid Persephone and I are quite attached at the hip.”
Aren swallowed thickly, her shoulders rolling back. “Well, I would be honored to give you and Persephone a tour.”
It was then that I’d realized, far too late, that I’d been letting Sebastian call me Persephone for several weeks. I didn’t let anyone call me that.
It wouldn’t be appropriate to address it, so I simply followed Aren into the gallery as she began her tour, Sebastian close behind.
We’d never actually touched in any real capacity, other than when he’d healed me in the old cells, but his hand was so close to my lower back that it might as well have been a physical caress.
It was so intense that I barely heard a word Aren said, understanding nothing more than the fact that her lips were moving and there were probably sounds that followed.
There was also the pesky little fact that I was getting annoyed. I hated that feeling, and then hated that I was feeling a feeling that I hated, which constituted a lovely little cycle that had my shoulders pinching back and my jaw clenching.
I had plans, and she was interrupting them in all her flirting-with-Sebastian-glory.
Bad Persy, jealousy is not allowed, I had to remind myself. I was simply having fun thinking about Aren tripping for an entirely different reason.
After the second gallery that Aren took us to, chatting Sebastian’s ear off, my annoyance eclipsed my desire to be amenable. I would always be polite, that was just who I was, but I also didn’t let people mess with my plans.
And I had plans with Sebastian, damnit.
Aren paused to take a breath, her eyes never leaving Sebastian even though he was looking at a painting over her shoulder.
“I really appreciate the tour, Aren,” I said calmly, keeping my shoulders set even though her eyes narrowed on me. “But I must request I take over.”
Aren frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I figured you’d want an expert leading this tour.”
“You’ve been so great,” I said, even though I hadn’t digested a single word she’d said, “But we have some things to discuss privately.”
Aren, to her credit, didn’t give it up. “But we’ve seen so little of Lord Apollo recently.”
Ah, there it was. The public didn’t know about Sebastian’s overthrow attempt or the real reason behind his stay at Prometheus. There had been a statement given to the news that he was taking time away from the public eye to help me at Prometheus, but people were used to him being a forward-facing god.
Sebastian knew. I’d sent him the paper with one of his meals early on in his unfortunate confinement in the old cells.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Sebastian’s low rumble beat me to it. “Though I appreciate that my absence has been noted, I would appreciate if you’d give us a moment.”
Aren nodded and I fought a scoff. Of course, she would listen to him. “The gallery containing most of your work is around the corner and at the end of the hall.”
Sebastian nodded graciously, already turning to leave. Aren stepped in front of him, extending her hand. “It was lovely to meet you.”
Sebastian hesitated, just for a moment, before placing his hand in hers and shaking once. Even that felt like too much. My chest was starting to feel tight.
Aren paused, waiting for Sebastian to return the compliment, but he didn’t. With one last, clearly disgruntled, look in my direction, she left us.
The second we were alone, I took off towards the gallery she’d pointed us to. I could feel Sebastian close behind.
“Well, she was lovely.”
A response of Oh, was she? was seconds away from leaving my mouth.
“She was.” That sounded passively believable.
I was walking so fast, the sound of my boots hitting the floor echoed through the empty hallways.
“In a rush, love?” Sebastian asked, easily keeping up with me on his strong, long legs.
I didn’t answer him until we were walking through the archway leading to the back gallery. “You have plans with Penn,” I said, a smile clear in my voice. “It’s important that you—”
Whatever else I was about to say died in my throat when I steeped into the middle of the gallery, surrounded wall to wall by Sebastian’s paintings. I had seen them before, I knew what they looked like, but seeing it up close was an entirely different thing.
They were so realistic, they looked like photographs. At the same time, they looked nothing like a picture, the detail and imagery so otherworldly perfect that it couldn’t possibly be captured by a camera.
He was so, so talented, in a way that made my heart twist in my chest. The question I’d been wanting to ask him fell from my lips unintentionally. “Why did you stop painting?”
“I was painting this morning,” Sebastian returned, his voice lazy but with a bit of tension underneath it.
I turned, finding him closer to my back than I’d realized. I was still feeling jittery and tense, and being this close to him wasn’t helping. I walked over to the far side of the room, towards a landscape that immediately elicited a warm wash of comfort in my chest.
The painting was full of soft pinks and oranges, depicting an ethereal view from the banks of a small lake, looking out over the water. On either side, the cliffs shot up in an almost vertical line, creating a steep valley dotted with trees and flowers and a million other small plants I could spend hours staring at.
Though I’d never seen it, I imagined that was what Elysium would look like, where souls went to rest after a kind life.
I pulled myself out of the daze I was in, remembering what I’d asked Sebastian. “Why did you stop painting before?” I asked, forcing myself to turn from the painting. Apparently, he’d followed me over here, standing mere feet away.
Sebastian rubbed his hand over his jaw, something I was realizing meant he was unsure. I gave him the space to answer, and eventually he spoke. “I just couldn’t do it. Every time I tried to pick up a brush, even if I got as far as putting paint down on canvas, I couldn’t make something.”
It was obvious there was more to the story, but I didn’t want to push. Especially when the memory of what I’d tried to discuss with him last night was still fresh in my mind. I really, really wanted to know why he’d said he didn’t want to involve me, but I was trying to forget about it.
This was about him remembering why he painted. “Did you miss it?”
Sebastian released an incredulous laugh. “Every day.”
“I’m glad you have it back,” I said, my voice a touch too soft. Recovering, I pointed over my shoulder. “Tell me the story of this one.”
I expected him to smile, but his face fell. “That one is called Afterlife.”
“Why?” I pressed softly.
Sebastian’s eyes drifted over my shoulder, his gaze narrowing as he focused in on the painting, like he was being reminded of every detail he’d included in the painting. I wanted to ask him about it, beg him to tell me what had inspired him and what the process looked like, but I need to let him offer up the information.
Sebastian ran his tongue over his bottom teeth, studying the painting intently. “That is what peace looks like to me. I would hope someone was able to rest there. Finally find some peace of their own.”
Thank the Fates he was looking at the painting, because I could feel my own face falling when I realized what he was talking about. In all likelihood, Afterlife was a gift to Penelope. His hope that his sister found somewhere to find rest.
“It would be,” I said, when I was sure my voice wouldn’t expose the bit of pain twisting through my chest. “It’s something to look forward to.”
At that, Sebastian let out a short breath of laughter. “Oh, love, I’m not going there. For my sins, I’ll be lucky to land in the Meadows.”
I felt myself frown. “Mistakes do not condemn you for the rest of your life.”
“Mine do,” Sebastian returned. “You know that better than anyone. My options are to stay with you every six months for the rest of my life or change until your brother is satisfied with the outcome.”
Oh. I hadn’t realized I didn’t tell him. “Sebastian, unless you start back up the conspiracy, you aren’t coming back to Prometheus.”
And he’d already said he didn’t have plans to do it. Six months. Well near four and a half, now, and he’d be gone. That was a good thing.
Sebastian’s response distracted me from the realization that the thought had felt like a reminder. “Counting down the days,” he said, with a sly grin on his lips.
While I tried to get over the small flicker of disappointment that curled through my chest at the sheer joy in his tone, he returned his attention to the painting behind me.
I looked behind him, as much as I could over his massive shoulders, trying to take in some of the other paintings. As far as I could tell, this was a pretty good collection.
His more lauded, coveted ones, including the infamous Sunlight Incarnate, were scattered around the Mediterranean, but this was likely one of the most concentrated collections.
I’d always been a secret admirer of his, feeling oddly understood by the images he brought to life. In the silence, my mind and body had an opportunity to remind themselves that they had spent the past several hours completely off-kilter.
First, it was sleeping poorly after that conversation with Sebastian did not go as planned.
Then, it was Aren and the horrible fury watching her ogle Sebastian twisted through my stomach.
And now … now, felt worse, somehow. It was like my senses were shut off, channeling all my energy into the ones that remained.
It was so quiet in here, and we were the only two people inside the gallery. The only thing my mind could latch onto was Sebastian in front of me, which made him feel far more imposing than he already was.
His hair was a bit messier today, the dark brown strands falling in a way that made him push his hands through his hair every few seconds. He was freshly shaved, but there was a hint of stubble already peeking through. His eyes looked bright today, the fullest, most pure form of the colors swimming there.
That seemed to happen whenever he was studying something closely, like he was doing to the painting over my shoulder. Or at least that’s what I assumed he was looking at.
I don’t know what part of me decided to lose it, but the point was that I was going crazy. There was something that was happening to me while watching Sebastian analyze a painting like he saw right down to the individual brushstrokes that made me want to equally spill all my secrets and lose my filter and ask him anything that came to mind.
He saw things so thoroughly, seeing straight through to their very core.
And he was honest—at times brutally so. I had this bone-deep desire to understand his motivations, even push him a little, so much so that my conviction to stay rational and calm was trickling out of my body like raindrops falling down a window.
“Sebastian,” I said, softly beckoning his attention before my mind could catch up and stop me. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
He choked on nothing but air, coughing and trying to clear his throat as he shifted his eyes over to me with a shocked expression.
I started rambling to cover up the embarrassment heating my cheeks. “I only meant that—I’m just trying to figure out why … I don’t mean to cross a line, but…”
I trailed off, knowing I’d already damned myself by opening my mouth in the first place. This was the worst way to go about this. I wanted to learn more about his motives, and maybe there was a small side effect of pure curiosity, which was so beyond dangerous I was hoping he’d just forget I’d said anything.
I’d never know if it was because he was the god of all things beautiful and therefore his judgment would be better than most or if it was his opinion as a man that I cared about more.
“Persephone,” Sebastian was in front of me now. Closer than he probably should be but far enough away that I had the urge to step towards him. I could hide my blush by looking down if I was closer, so I took the step anyway. “Why are you asking, love?”
I shook my head, staring at the worn canvas of his boots. “Forget I asked.”
“Unfortunately that is quite impossible.” Sebastian stepped to the side, allowing the light from the window across the gallery to hit me, warming my skin another degree. “Look at the painting if that’s easier, but you’re going to explain.”
I really should have told Sebastian that I didn’t have to do things just because he said I did, but the words were lost when I lifted my eyes to meet his. A feeling not all that different from the one I got when I was sucked into the landscape behind me, when your eyes would bounce from the horizon to the forefront of the painting and back, spinning an ease through your chest that made it easier to speak, settled over my form
“I only ask because…” I took a deep breath, then just decided to go for it. There was an odd comfort in speaking to Sebastian, knowing we were supposed to be completely honest with each other. “I guess I’m just trying to figure out why you refused to hurt me. I can’t figure out why I was different than Adrian.”
I was a Jupiter, too. The only difference between Adrian and I was a few years. I could have easily been born first.
“And so you settled on the fact that I wouldn’t be attracted to your brother?”
It was not lost on me that I asked if he thought I was pretty and he’d corrected to attracted. The problem was, it was likely just his interpretation of what I’d asked, but I wanted to read into it. “Yes,” I said, dropping my eyes back down to the floor. If I looked at him, there would be no mistaking the color heating my cheeks.
“It was part of it.”
Before I could think better of it, my head snapped back up. Sebastian was already looking at me, his hands clasped confidently behind his back. The second our eyes connected, he took another long stride towards me.
I stumbled back a step, retreating on instinct. It was only natural, when someone was stalking toward you like you were prey. My jaw was practically on the floor. “You’ve said it yourself, I do have excellent judgment when it comes to beautiful things.” My heart beat was rivaling a hummingbird’s now. “And you, love, are certainly beautiful.”
Sebastian’s stare was so intense, almost like he could see down to my bones, I could only conclude that he was being honest.
And Fates help me, that made me want to do something really, truly wrong.
“Thank you,” I managed to croak out. And then his eyes zeroed in on my cheeks, his expression darkening when he realized how deep they were flushed. I felt this sudden need to explain it away, to give him any other reason for the reaction to prevent him from assuming—correctly or otherwise—that it was that simple compliment that made my skin flare up. “It’s just that I don’t hear that often—or I guess many people don’t tell me if they think so … that is, from well, men specifically and—”
I slammed my mouth shut. Great, I’d just admitted to the most attractive, most charming, most perfect man I’d ever met that men never really told me I was beautiful.
Apart from one, short-lived moment I had with someone who used to work at Prometheus, I had never really been pursued.
It was something I’d tried not to let affect me, especially since there were any number of reasonable explanations. I spent most of my time in Prometheus or with family or friends.
When I went out, no one approached me for fear one wrong move would result in a lightning bolt smiting them.
It was fine—mostly. I liked the way I looked, but sometimes it was nice to have someone affirm that. Having the god of art do so should have smoothed that small bit of hurt quite well, but Sebastian’s words just made me feel even more tense.
A certain kind of tension, but the more I allowed myself to dwell on that fact, the harder it was to ignore.
I fought to hold eye contact, needing to remain steady and deal with the consequences of my actions.
Sebastian scoffed, the sound so shocking my brows creased together. “While I am floored at the level of idiocy most others possess, I can’t find the mind to be sorry about it. They’d be limited to simply calling you beautiful or pretty—though both true.” Sebastian had to have been unintentionally dipping into his power of poetry because I was hanging on every word like it was water after years in the desert. “Their inadequacy simply leaves room for me to compliment you as you deserve.”
A sound broke off in my throat. I didn’t think I could hear much more of this. My power felt too close to the surface, making goosebumps erupt down my arms.
“You really shouldn’t,” I said, my voice coming out in more of a whisper than I’d intended. I was stronger than this. Stronger than melting from sweet words. My knees were simply weak for an entirely different reason.
Sebastian let out a short breath of laughter, shaking his head. “On the contrary. This is about reconnecting with my power, is it not? You’d deny me the chance to become a poet again?”
I hated him in that moment, for being so good at spinning things I could only answer him with silence. I understood his resistance to me doing it tenfold now.
Sebastian smiled broad when he realized I wasn’t going to disagree with him. “Good girl.” I didn’t know whether it was wiser to take a step closer to him or away. Fuck. Keep it together, Persy. “Because you see, love, you’re standing in front of a painting widely recognized to be one the most beautiful landscapes ever created, and yet it looks nothing more than a backdrop intended to frame your perfection.”
“Well,” I swallowed thickly, Sebastian’s eyes dropping to my throat to track the movement. “You certainly are talented.”
Understatement of my life, but I surely wasn’t telling him the depth of how much that had affected me.
Sebastian’s smile turned wicked at the corners. Hands still clasped behind his back, he leaned down, bringing our faces mere inches apart. “Talent that will not be wasted, not with such a pretty little muse.”
My heart caught in my throat. I needed to regain some control and fast. The little kindle of attraction I felt towards him couldn’t grow. He was leaving, let alone the fact that I was technically in charge of his redemption.
I forced a smile to my face. “Was that the only thing stopping you? The way I looked?” I fought a wince at how gravelly my voice sounded.
Sebastian’s grin went nowhere. “I thought we agreed to give me a few days before answering that. You wouldn’t be reneging on a promise, would you?”
I fell into his trap, half willingly. “Be happy I’m not resorting to other measures to get you to tell me.”
“Oh, yeah? What would those be, love?”
“I could double down on the thank yous. I don’t think I was nearly as appreciative as I should have been about Penn,” I returned, feeling myself smile. My heart was still kicking off like a race horse, but there wasn’t that same flash of nerves as the early days. This felt … heady.
“Give me a few days,” Sebastian said. “Still gives me time to mess it up, love.”
I shook my head, scrunching up my nose. “I don’t think so.”
Sebastian covered his chest with one of his hands dramatically. “Such faith in me.”
My lips parted, preparing to respond, but any sound building was killed when Sebastian leaned in and my entire body locked up in anticipation.
What was he…
Sebastian’s lips descended to the space next to my ear, leaning so close I could feel the heat rolling off him in waves. “Careful not to touch the painting.”
I straightened, the move pushing our chests so close they almost touched. I spun around, realizing that at some point in our conversation, he’d all but backed me into one of the most priceless paintings in the Mediterranean.
All because I’d lost my mind and asked him if he thought I was pretty. That was going to haunt me.
Before I could even consider how to move on from that conversation, the sound of a portal cracking stole my chance to.
“Ah! I told you they’d be here.” A familiar, melodic voice, though dark around the edges, called from behind us. Sebastian groaned, the sound quiet like he couldn’t help but do it but didn’t want anyone else to hear it.
I might not have, if we weren’t standing so close. Peeling myself away from him, I turned, ready to greet my friend and goddess of the Underworld.