⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of a past rape (no graphic scene), rape culture, victim-blaming, emotional abuse, and self-harm (no cutting) ⚠️
Medusa hates wearing sunglasses. No, she despises them. But if she doesn't wear them then anyone that looks into her eyes will turn to stone. It is between wearing plastic on her face or getting an earful from Athena. She opts for the former and shrugs on a black leather jacket.
There is a pile of cardboard boxes a few doors ahead. She walks around them and outside. Colorful leaves crunch under her black boots.
The wave of people on the bustling New York City sidewalks part for her. Some dare glances at her snake hair. Their dark green scaly bodies bob with each step. Some slither their pink tongues out.
She is used to the looks of disgust and weariness. Been receiving them ever since Athena punished her all those years ago. She clenches her hands and enters the coffee shop. The smell of ground coffee beans and sugary pastries greets her.
Everyone in line looks back and steps to the side. Medusa smirks and walks up to the register. Someone she doesn't recognize is working it. Must be a newbie. His eyes widen at her sage green skin.
"W-what can I get for you, ma'am?"
Definitely a newbie.
"Black tea."
"Do you want a venti or a grande?"
"What's the difference." She looks at his name tag. "Riley."
"Grande is large. Venti is a 20 oz cup."
"That doesn't answer my question." Medusa slips her hands into her jacket pockets.
"A grande is 16 fluid oz and a venti is–"
A familiar clip-clopping comes from the back. A centaur woman with long blonde hair walks up next to Riley. Her strong pale arms are crossed.
"Medusa, I would appreciate it if you didn't harass every newbie on their first day," Bree, the manager, says. She starts making her drink.
"But it's so fun to watch them cower."
The human barista boy won't meet her gaze. His shoulders are shaking. She wears a mask of annoyance over her guilt.
"Here you go. One black tea."
She sips it. Needs lemon and sugar.
"How's work?" Bree asks. Her blonde tail swishing behind her.
"Work is work." She hands her some cash.
"What do you do anyway? I've known you for five years and still have no idea."
She smirks and takes a sip. "I'll leave it to your imagination."
Everyone watches her leave.
The smirk drops when she returns home. She tosses her sunglasses off and goes into the kitchen. She slices a lemon from the bowl on the counter and squeezes some into her tea along with a little sugar. She feeds some to her snakes.
Perfect.
She goes into the back room and flicks the lights on. A clay-stained pottery wheel is in the middle of the room. Glazed and unglazed pottery line shelves on the walls. An electric kiln sits in its own room off to the side. A ventilation tube comes out from the bottom going into the wall.
She had to convince the landlord to let her have it installed. Didn't take much.
She hangs her jacket and slips a clay-stained dark blue apron over her head and fills a bowl with warm water. A bag of gray clay is on the floor, she places a chunk on the wheel. It slowly turns with a flick of a switch. She wets her green hands and begins shaping it.
She isn't sure whether to make a vase, mug, or cup. Just enjoys the wet clay shift under her hands. She smiles and drops her shoulders.
Medusa wakes in a cold sweat. Every muscle is tense and shaking. Her snakes contort their bodies and anxiously look around her dark bedroom. She hugs her knees and rocks.
"It wasn't my fault," she whispers over and over into the darkness.
"You were asking for it," Athena's silvery voice echoes in her head. That was the first thing she said to her after it happened. Then she cursed her.
Medusa yanks her sweaty clothes off and gets in the shower. The cold water pricks her hot skin. It eventually warms.
Her snakes slither along her wet back and shoulders. A few gently wrap around her neck.
"Why didn't you fight Poseidon off harder?"
"Did you say no?"
"What were you wearing?"
"Slut."
"Whore."
"You provoked me. It's your fault." Poseidon's husky voice makes her shiver.
She turns the shower knob so that the water is scorching, but it does little to drown out the looping words.
The sun is already starting to peek through the window once she gets out. She tightly wraps her deep purple bathrobe around her tender skin and sits on the bed. One of the snakes rubs its head against her cheek. She pets it with two fingers.
No matter how often she gets these nightmares, they rattle her just the same.
She dresses and walks to the coffee shop. Today is one of those days that she's glad to wear the sunglasses. People get out of her way, as per usual, except for one person.
Medusa clears her throat at the girl standing before the register. The other customers hold their breath. Her snakes stand and hiss.
"Excuse me." Medusa crosses her arms.
The first thing that she notices when the girl turns around is her eyes. They are golden like honey and looking in two different directions. Her inky black hair is styled into passion twists that spill over her russet brown shoulders.
Medusa takes a step back. Bree, behind the register, notices.
"Can I help you?" The girl's voice is fruity.
It's the second time in her life that Medusa is left speechless.
"Do you need something?" The girl says.
"Never mind, my mistake." Heat pricks Medusa's cheeks.
Customers whisper to each other. The girl gives her order. She uses the ball tip of her cane to navigate her way to the pick-up counter.
"What was that?" Bree whispers as she starts making the girl's order, the clip-clop of her hooves a satisfying sound.
"What was what?"
"Don't play dumb with me. You didn't throw a fit or turn the girl to stone."
"'Throw a fit'? I don't throw fits." Medusa crosses her arms.
"Sure." Bree puts a sleeve on the cup. "Order for Ruth."
Ruth slowly feels around the counter for her cup.
"Thank you. Have a nice day." People move as she heads for the door.
Medusa watches her through the window. The sun is making her skin glow. She appears to be whistling.
"Medusa. Your order is ready." Bree sets the black tea down.
She takes it and heads back home. She can't get Ruth out of her head. Even while making a vase––which she messes up. She grumbles and wipes her hands on the apron.
She prepares a few mugs, bowls, and vases to be shipped to clients.
Someone knocks at the door as she's wrapping a bowl in bubble wrap. Nobody knocks at her door. Not even the landlord. She puts her sunglasses on and answers.
Ruth is standing there with a plate of chocolate chip cookie sandwiches with bright blue icing. Medusa stares at her with raised eyebrows.
"Hi, I'm your new neighbor Ruth." She smiles.
What are the odds? Medusa leans against the doorframe. "How was your drink?"
"My drink?" She cocks her head. Some of Medusa's snakes' hiss. Realization washes over her face. "The girl from the coffee shop earlier. What a coincidence."
Medusa rolls her eyes.
"Would you like a cookie?" She's wearing a yellow sweatshirt tucked into high-waisted green pants that hugs her wide hips and thick thighs well. Medusa raises her eyebrows at her sunflower converse.
"No." She shuts the door and watches her leave through the peephole. She continues boxing dishes and vases. The guilt in her stomach is oily.
For the next two nights, she dreams of Ruth's shoes and cookies. Her stomach is growling when she wakes. She dresses and throws on her charcoal leather trench coat.
Medusa orders her black tea and also a glazed chocolate donut.
"Got any plans this weekend?" Bree asks.
"Think I might turn some people to stone." She shrugs.
"So, nothing." Bree hands her the paper cup.
"As per usual." Medusa turns and bumps into someone. The lid pops off and pours onto both of them. The other person yelps. Customers look over and gasp.
Medusa's snakes contort. "Hey! Watch where you're–" The snakes relax.
It's Ruth, pulling a tea-stained pink dress away from her body. Her frows are furrowed and her eyes squeezed shut.
"It's hot. It's really hot."
Medusa grabs a bunch of napkins and pats the dress. Everyone stares. It's not every day you see The Gorgon helping someone.
"Is it still hurting?" Medusa asks.
"Yeah." She winces.
Medusa guides Ruth into the bathroom on the other side of the coffee shop. People whisper. Her shoulders tense.
She slams the door shut and wets some paper towel with cold water from the sink.
"Here." She hands it to Ruth and looks away as she wipes under her dress. "I didn't mean to spill my tea on you."
"I know you didn't neighbor."
Medusa freezes. A part of her was hoping that Ruth didn't recognize her voice in the midst of tea spilling panic.
"I prefer Medusa." She braces herself.
Ruth freezes. "The Medusa?"
"I've never met anyone else with the same name. Not exactly a popular one." She chuckles nervously.
"Do you really have snakes for hair?"
Medusa side eyes her reflection in the mirror. Three snakes are intertwining their bodies to make a braid. "...yes."
"That's so cool."
There's silence in the tiled bathroom. Water drips from the faucet. Medusa clears her throat once the silence becomes uncomfortable––which isn't long.
"You probably want to change," she says.
"Oh, yeah." Ruth fidgets with the strap of her cane.
Ruth gets her coffee and Medusa her donut. People are still staring when they exit the bathroom. Medusa lets a few of her snakes' hiss, which makes everyone look away.
The air is crisp when they go outside. Ruth smiles.
"I love fall." She smiles.
"What's there to love." Medusa kicks at a leaf.
"The crunchy leaves under your feet, pumpkin spice drinks, Halloween, and the chill air."
"Just means we're closer to winter. I hate the cold."
"Then move somewhere tropical."
"Nah."
"Well, as my dad says, 'if you don't have a solution, don't fucken complain about it'." Ruth smiles.
Medusa lifts an eyebrow at her and snorts.
"What?" Ruth asks.
She shakes her head. "I didn't think you'd be one to swear."
"They're just words. Depends how much power you give them."
They walk up the steps to the apartment building. Ruth unlocks her apartment door. There's a giant textured painting of sunflowers hanging on the wall next to a berry pink velvet couch.
"Please take your shoes off." She hangs her cane on a hook.
"Oh, I didn't plan on stay–"
"I won't be long." She disappears down the hall.
Medusa toes off her boots. The fuzzy white carpet kisses the bottoms of her feet. She sits on a mustard yellow leather chair opposite the couch. There's a cactus on the white coffee table–no wait, not a cactus. Dark green coasters arranged to look like a cactus.
She's a black cloud within this room of sunshine. Her chest tightens. After a few minutes pass, Medusa stands to leave. She's at the door when Ruth comes out in a clean outfit.
"What was in your cup, by the way," she asks.
"B-black tea."
Did I just stutter?
Ruth goes into the kitchen. Medusa follows. She's filling a kettle with water. Medusa tenses and tucks a snake behind her ear. Bree has been the only person to ever make her tea. Then again, that is her job.
"I can make it." She walks towards Ruth.
"I don't mind."
Medusa shifts on her feet. Ruth sets the kettle on the stove and runs her hand along the white cabinets. She opens one and grabs a yellow device.
"What is that?" Medusa asks.
"Oh, it's my liquid level indicator. Let's me know when to stop pouring." She sets the legs on the back into a lilac mug. The kettle sings. The device beeps once the mug is full.
"Thanks." Medusa takes it into the living room. Needs lemon and sugar.
Ruth sits on the couch with her legs tucked under her. Medusa sits in the chair. The tea is bitter. She takes the donut out of its bag and starts eating it.
"I hope this question isn't too personal, but how did you get snakes for hair?"
Medusa chokes on the donut. Of all the questions to ask.
Ruth straightens her back. "Are you okay?"
"Wrong...pipe." She coughs into her fist until her throat clears. Ruth gets up to pat her back. Medusa stops her. "I'm sure you learned about how in school."
"I did but there are so many different theories. So why not ask the Medusa for the truth."
"...I was born with them." A lie, but it's better than the truth.
Ruth raises an eyebrow. At first, Medusa thinks she caught onto her lie. But she slowly nods and says, "Ah, okay."
"What about you? Were you...?"
"Born blind? No. I was in a car accident when I was sixteen."
Medusa quickly downs the rest of the tea. "Well, thank you for the tea, but I need to get going."
"Oh, you do?"
"I've got to get to work." She has two big orders that she needs to finish today and ship a different one.
"But it's Saturday."
"My job isn't a nine to five kind of thing." She chuckles and rubs the back of her neck. "I'll see you around." She gives her finger guns.
She's blind you idiot. She clears her throat and shoves her hands into her pocket.
"Let me walk you to the door." Ruth stands.
"There's no need for that."
"I insist." She opens the door and smiles.
"...thanks." Medusa quickly walks back to her apartment.
The gray walls greet her. She chucks her trench coat on the black couch and
goes into her pottery room. She works late into the night. Ruth occupies her mind.
Ruth comes by the following morning with some black tea from the coffee shop. Her smile is beaming. One of Medusa's snakes notices her hair and tries to reach for it. Medusa swats at it.
"I'll give you the tea if you walk around the city with me." Ruth holds out the cup.
"No."
"The park."
"No, thank you."
"The block then."
Why is she being so persistent?
"I have work." Not a lie, she does.
"Oh, okay."
Medusa hesitantly shuts the door. She opens it a few minutes later to find the cup on the floor. Ruth does this a few more times. By the fourth day, Medusa gives in.
She huffs and says, "Let me change."
Ruth beams.
Medusa dresses in black leather pants and a purple sweater turtleneck. She throws her leather trench coat on. The black tea is bitter. She excuses herself a moment to put sugar and lemon into it. When she comes back out, she notices Ruth's jeans have a sunflower embroidered on the thigh. It's cute.
"What do you do for a living?" Ruth asks as they stroll. Her cane out in front of her. People move out of the way.
"Why do you ask?" Medusa sips her tea.
"Every time I've asked you to take a walk with me you kept saying you had work. What keeps you so busy?"
"...I make pottery," she says in a low voice. Her clients know her by a false name. She sells pottery to people as high up as gods and goddesses to as low as mortal humans.
"Interesting." Ruth sips her coffee. "Why pottery?"
"Bree suggested I take a pottery class. I enjoyed it." Medusa catches herself smiling. She drops it. "What about you?"
"I'm a masseuse."
"Really?"
"You sound surprised."
"I've never met anyone in such an occupation. What inspired you to pursue it?"
"The accident. It, uh, really messed up my mom's back. My dad would give her massages to help relieve the pain. I would as well when he wasn't able to. Made me realize how much I want to help people.
"Also, the human body is fascinating. I love the way it feels under my hands. Plus, the work environment is so relaxing. Especially during the colder months."
Conversation flows easily. Half an hour breezes by without either of them realizing it. They end up walking all the way to Central Park, the trees a canopy of oranges, red, and yellows. The sun shines through them.
"And then my little sister slapped my older brother with a slice of pizza." Ruth snorts.
Medusa throws her head back and laughs. She can't remember the last time she did. "Why did she do that?"
"I don't know! But he's the one who didn't take her seriously and said 'yes.' My dad told him he wasn't allowed to get mad at her since he did. He denies it ever happened anytime it's brought up."
They eventually calm from their fit of laughter. Medusa's cheeks ache. She chucks their empty cups into a nearby trashcan. They walk back to their apartment building. It's a half hour walk but it only feels like a few minutes for Medusa.
"Well, I'll let you get back to work." Ruth smiles.
"Oh, yeah, I probably should." She drags her feet to her apartment, but not without looking back at Ruth to watch her walk into her apartment.
They walk again the next day. Then the following weekend. And the weekend after that. This goes on for a few weekends.
It's finally Saturday. Medusa eagerly gets ready. Ruth knocks on the door. Medusa's heart races and her snakes happily slither along her shoulders and neck. She answers the door.
"Good morning," She says.
"How'd you sleep?" Ruth asks. She's wearing a light blue sweater dress that hugs her curvy figure well. Medusa keeps her eyes on her face.
"Well, for once." The nightmares have been few these past two weeks. It's been nice being able to sleep through the night.
Dark, thick, clouds loom over the city. The scent of rain is in the air. Red, orange, and yellow leaves are circling about the sidewalk and road.
"I should go grab an umbrella." Medusa turns to go back inside. Ruth stops her.
"It'll be fine. The weather channel said it's not supposed to rain until this evening."
They get their drinks from the coffee shop and head to Central Park as they usually do. A teenage boy gapes at Medusa. She looks back at him through her tinted sunglasses. All of her snakes stand and hiss. He jumps and looks forward.
"Really?" Ruth asks.
"I have to live up to my name somehow." Medusa shrugs. Her snakes relax. Ruth giggles and shakes her head. Medusa smirks.
Most of the leaves have fallen from the trees and are decorating the ground. They crunch satisfyingly under their feet. Medusa huffs when one doesn't.
"What's your favorite flower?" Ruth asks.
Medusa is taken aback by the question. "I've honestly never thought about it. I don't think I have one. Why do you like sunflowers?"
"My parents had some in the yard while I was growing up. It's such a happy flower. They always made me smile. Even though I can't see them anymore, just knowing that they're there is enough." Her smile is infectious.
Medusa bites down on it. A raindrop kisses her nose. Uh oh.
"We should head back home before–" Thunder cracks above them.
The rain starts slow. Medusa shucks her leather trench coat off and covers Ruth's hair just before it starts to pour. They quickly become drenched. Medusa tries to hail a cab, but none of them stop. The one-time that Medusa wishes people weren't put off by her snakes. They opt to run and get to their building in twenty minutes.
They're both shivering and dripping wet in the tiled hallway. Ruth slips and yelps. Medusa catches her. Her arms are wrapped around Ruth's waist. Her body is soft and cold against hers. Their noses inches away. Medusa blushes.
"I've got you." She stands her up and quickly pulls away.
Ruth fumbles with her keys as she unlocks her door. "Oh, thanks for lending me your jacket."
Medusa takes it. "See you tomorrow."
"See ya." Ruth gives a small smile and closes the door.
Medusa goes inside her apartment. She peels her wet clothes off and turns the shower on. The hot water burns her cold damp skin. She turns it down a little. Once she's warmed up, she dresses and goes into her pottery room. She hums as she works.
Ruth doesn't answer her door the next morning and she's not at the coffee shop either. Medusa glances around for the second time. It's already nine.
"Hey, has Ruth come in yet?" Medusa asks Bree.
"No, not yet." Bree starts making her tea.
Maybe she slept in.
"I'll also get Ruth's usual. And can I get some sugar and lemon in my tea, please." She opens her wallet.
Bree freezes and raises her eyebrows. Water spills over the cup's edges. Medusa holds out her debit card. Bree's soft expression makes her shift on her feet.
"What?"
Bree smiles and takes her card. "You've never asked for lemon and sugar before. Nor have you ever said please to me."
"And?" Medusa plays with the clasp on her wallet. Has she really never said 'please' nor 'thank you' to Bree?
"And I'm not making your drink anymore unless you say 'please' and 'thank you' from now on." Bree's blonde tail swishes. "So, are you and Ruth friends?"
Medusa blushes and looks away. "We're neighbors. That's all."
"Sure." Bree makes the drinks and goes to hand them to her. She pulls them away. "Where's my thank you?"
"Thank you, pain in my ass." Medusa rolls her eyes. Bree laughs.
As she walks back, she hardly notices the usual sneers and stares. A little boy points at her, but it doesn't matter. The sun is shining today. It's warm against her face. The grin refuses to leave her face.
She knocks on Ruth's door. Ruth answers, still wearing her pajamas. She has a fuzzy blanket wrapped around her and her passion twists are up in a bun on her head. Medusa blushes.
"Hi." She's congested. There is still sleep in the corner of her eyes.
"You're sick." I knew I should've grabbed my umbrella.
"It's just a cold." She coughs into her elbow.
Medusa hands her the coffee and touches her forehead. It's boiling.
"Have you taken your temperature at all?" Ruth slowly shakes her head. She can barely keep her eyes open. "Where do you keep your thermometer?"
"The bathroom cabinet."
The cabinet is neatly organized, so Medusa has no trouble finding it. She holds it up to Ruth's forehead. A female voice announces the temperature: 100.5 F.
"I'm going to go get you some medicine." She didn't see any in the cabinet. She takes her coffee cup away. "No caffeine."
"But you bought it for me."
"I'll buy you another one when you're better. I'll be right back."
There is a drugstore two blocks away. She gets the medicine first then stops at a soup place. The employees stare at her as she waits. The person serving her fumbles and nearly drops the container. She hands it to Medusa.
"S-sorry."
"Thanks," she says. She likes the way it feels in her mouth.
The bell above the door rings as she exits.
A familiar figure catches the corner of her eyes. She freezes and nearly drops the soup and medicine. She blinks.
Poseidon is standing at the curb in a sea blue suit. His dirty blonde beard is well groomed. He didn't have a beard then.
He's on the phone.
"Is the car almost here? I don't want to be late for the meeting." His husky voice makes her tense.
People walk around her. Her body is stone. She can't make herself look away.
She has imagined numerous times what she would do if she ever saw him again; run, scream at him, punch him, turn him into stone. Yet all she can do is fucken stare.
Poseidon puts a hand on his hip. They were rough against her skin. He left bruises and red marks all over. He turns around and looks at the ground as someone on the other side of the phone talks.
"Tell Amphitrite that I'll meet her for lunch afterward." His sea green eyes finally meet her. His face drops.
Medusa's breath hitches. Her snakes contort and hiss.
He flinches.
A shiny black Audi pulls up behind him. He quickly gets inside and the car speeds past her. He watches her through the window with wide eyes.
Medusa's heart hammers in her chest. Her lungs twist. She rushes back to the apartment, looking over her shoulder often for the car.
Ruth is asleep on the couch. Medusa swallows the lump down and gently shakes her shoulder.
"I'm back with medicine and some soup." She forces her voice to be steady.
Ruth yawns and stretches her arms over her head. "Thank you." She mumbles.
"I'll get you a spoon and some water." Tears well in her eyes.
Her hands tremble as she opens a cabinet and grabs a glass. Poseidon's eyes won't leave her mind. A memory of his hand brushes against the back of her neck. The glass slips from her hand and crashes onto the floor. She yelps and whirls around.
Ruth appears in the doorway.
"Are you alright?"
"Y-yes...I'm fine." She gathers the shards with a dish towel and dumps them into the trashcan. Tears silently stream down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break it."
"Don't worry about it. I have tons of glasses. Too many." Ruth grabs two and fills them with water from the sink. She hands one to Medusa. She tightly grasps it.
"Do you need anything else?"
"Wanna stay and watch a movie with me?"
"Yes." Anything to distract her.
She makes sure to sit a good distance away from Ruth and tightly holds one of the colorful couch pillows against her chest.
The movie is a blur of color and words that she doesn't register. All she can focus on is trying to steady her breathing. A few times she uses the pillow to muffle her whimpering.
Ruth falls asleep halfway through. Medusa covers her with a blanket before heading back to her apartment. She locks the door and presses her back against it. She tugs at her boot laces and kicks them off.
She turns the shower on. The bathroom quickly steams up. She pours soap onto her loofah and vigorously scrubs. The memory of sea salt and pine trees fills her nose. Her stomach becomes queasy.
"I'm safe. He can't hurt me." She crosses her hands over her chest with her thumbs against her collarbone. She taps her hands and breaths slowly. It eases her panic attack a bit.
Athena comes by the next day. That's never good. Medusa keeps her head low despite wearing her sunglasses.
"I heard that you ran into Poseidon yesterday." Her long black hair hangs in box braids. Little gold cuffs decorate some of them.
"...yes."
"I'm sorry about that."
Medusa looks up and clenches her jaw. "Are you?"
Athena purses her full lips. "Don't forget who bought this apartment and your pottery room for you, Meddi."
Medusa has never liked Athena's nickname for her. She did when she worked for her, but that was when they were friends. Before it happened.
You mean yours' and Poseidon's 'hush hush' money. Medusa bites her tongue. Her snakes hiss though.
"And remember what'll happen if you tell anyone about the 'unfortunate accident'."
Medusa's green skin pales. She brings a hand to her throat and looks at the floor. Athena tilts her chin up with a copper brown hand.
"You don't want to ruin Poseidon's life for your mistake. He and Amphitrite just had their third child." Her breath smells of oranges.
Medusa swallows her retort. "N-no."
Athena lets her go. She stands before the door with the handle in her hands for a few moments before turning to face her. Medusa turns to the side with her arms crossed.
"I hope you know that this." She gestures to Medusa's appearance. "Was not me punishing you. It was a gift. No one can ever hurt you again."
Medusa's snakes slither outward from her head. They glare at Athena with their beady black eyes.
"No matter how many times you tell me that, I will never believe you."
Athena sighs and leaves.
Medusa clenches her shaking hands. Hot rage burns her eyes, throat, and chest. She grabs a bowl from her pottery room and smashes it against the floor. The crash screams for her. Ceramic pieces fly everywhere.
She sleeps for the rest of the day.
The next two days breeze by.
Medusa lays in bed, only able to get up to use the bathroom. Her stomach is too heavy for food. Her room and sheets stink.
Ruth comes by and knocks. Medusa doesn't need to answer the door to know that it's her. Each time, she buries her head under her pillow until she stops. Guilt eats at her.
On the third day, Ruth knocks at her door for two minutes.
"Medusa, I know you're in there."
Medusa grumbles, puts her sunglasses on, and yanks the door open. Her snakes are standing up and hiss aggressively.
"What! What could you possibly want?" She shouts in her face. Her snakes go limp. Ruth is frowning with tears in her eyes.
"Sorry for worrying about you." She turns to leave. Medusa grabs her wrist.
"Hey, I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I've been having a rough week."
She yanks out of her grip. "That doesn't give you an excuse to snap at me."
"I know. I'm sorry." Her voice is quiet.
Ruth wipes her face dry. She sniffles and grips her cane tightly. "You haven't been at the coffee shop in a few days."
"I've been...busy."
"With work?"
"Something like that."
"You don't have to lie to me."
"I'm not lying."
"Your voice gets higher when you lie."
"It does not!" It in fact does. She blushes and clears her throat. "It doesn't." She lowers her voice.
"What's troubling you?" Ruth steps closer.
Medusa steps back. One of her snakes hisses in her ear. She's never talked about it with anyone that isn't Athena. Not even anonymously online or in a journal.
"It's difficult."
"Do you want to talk in your apartment?"
"Can we go to yours instead?" She looks back at hers and feels like the walls are listening. "Please."
Ruth nods.
Light streams in through the window in the living room. Medusa yanks the white curtains tightly shut. It brings her a shed of comfort.
"Why are you closing the curtains?"
Medusa traces a finger over a sunflower on the curtain. Her chest is tight. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
"I saw Poseidon when I was getting you medicine and soup."
"The Poseidon?"
"Yes, the mighty King of the Sea himself. Hardly impressive, to be honest." She mumbles the last part.
"What about him?"
Medusa tenses and perches on the edge of the yellow chair across from the couch. She bounces her leg.
"We, uh, we were friends a long time ago. I met him while I was working for Athena." She can still remember that day vividly. "We were close."
"That's nice." Ruth brings her knees into her chest.
She smiles. "It was. But...h-he." Tears quickly prick her eyes and nose. She takes her sunglasses off and presses her palms into her eyes. Ruth won't turn to stone since she's blind.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yup. I'm fine."
"Do you want some wa–"
"Poseidon raped me."
It's the first time she's ever said it out loud. Some of her snakes carefully wrap themselves around her neck.
Ruth brings her hand to her mouth. Her eyebrows are nearly kissing her hairline. Medusa looks down at her black painted toenails.
"Medusa–"
"I don't want your pity. Nor your anger or apologies. None of it will undo what happened." Tears flow easily.
"Poseidon blamed me for it. Athena cursed me after it happened." She twirls a snake around her finger. "I once had beautiful curls. People envied them. Now everyone looks at them in disgust."
Medusa doesn't say much more for the rest of the day. Ruth orders pizza for dinner. She doesn't try to force her into a conversation. Medusa appreciates it.
She only eats half a slice and a breadstick. It's lead in her stomach. She blinks and it's dark outside. Ruth lets her stay the night and sets her up with a blanket and pillow on the couch.
Medusa only manages to get two hours of sleep before waking from a nightmare. Her hand flies to her neck. Sweat cakes her body. She hangs her head between her knees.
Tears drip down her face. She sniffles and wipes her nose with the back of her trembling hand.
Ruth's door is closed. The floor creaks under her feet. She knocks.
"Ruth?" There's no response so she knocks again.
"Come in," she says.
Medusa isn't surprised to see that the comforter is covered in little stitched sunflowers. Ruth is wearing a silk nightcap.
"Can I sleep in here?" She blushes. "I-It's difficult. Sleeping on a–"
"Your voice is higher." She pats the bed.
The covers are cool against Medusa's hot skin. She makes sure to keep a good distance between them.
"Are you okay with this?" She asks.
Ruth nods and lays down.
Medusa sleeps for another half hour before being woken by someone shaking her. Ruth is shaking her.
She flinches and pushes her hands away. "Why are you shaking me?"
"You were having a fit in your sleep."
Heat blooms on her face. The nightmares had stopped for a while, she was positive they were gone for good.
"I'll go back to my apartment." She throws the covers off.
Ruth grabs her wrist. She gasps and pulls away. It was how Poseidon grabbed her.
"You're okay. You're safe here, Medusa." Ruth puts her hands up.
The words crack something inside of Medusa. Fresh tears sting her eyes. She lets out an uneven breath.
"Can I give you a massage?" Ruth asks.
Medusa sniffles. "What?"
"I've worked with survivors of rape before. Massage therapy can be a good way to help heal and reconnect with your body. If you're alright with me touching you."
"Just my hand, please." She places it into Ruth's.
Ruth runs her strong fingers over Medusa's. She massages her thumbs into her palm. Medusa shudders. It's the first safe touch she's received since it happened.
A croaky sob crawls out of her throat. She covers her mouth with her hand. Her snakes are relaxed against her back.
"Do you want me to stop?" Ruth asks calmly.
"No, please, don't. Please, please," Medusa sobs and shakes her head.
"It's okay to cry. You're safe here." Ruth's voice cracks.
Her words are a warm blanket around her. Ruth rubs her hand for a short while before wanting to go to bed. Medusa lays next to her.
Their fingers are intertwined.
The sunflowers on the comforter greet Medusa when she wakes. Ruth is sitting next to her with earbuds in her ear. A man's faint voice comes from them. Medusa rubs her face and sits up.
"Good morning." Ruth takes her earbuds out.
Medusa grunts in greeting.
"How are you feeling?"
She picks at a loose yellow thread. "I'm not sure."
"It's–"
"I don't really want to talk about it anymore right now." The thread comes out.
Ruth leans against the headboard. "When you're ready to, I'll be right here."
Medusa smiles. "Thank you."
. . . . .
Medusa knocks on Ruth's door. She opens it. She's wearing the red button up with sunflowers that Medusa got her for her Christmas last year.
Medusa smiles. "Happy birthday, sunshine."
"My birthday party isn't until later." She cocks an eyebrow.
"I know. But I want to give you your gift now."
They sit on the pink couch. Ruth carefully unwraps the gift. She takes the lid off and is met with crumbled newspaper.
"Careful, it's ceramic," Medusa says.
"Can you take it out for me, please?"
Medusa pushes the paper back and places the ceramic piece in her hands. Ruth gasps when she realizes what it is.
"You made me a sunflower!" She kisses Medusa's cheek. "Thank you, sweetie."
The glaze of the sunflower is glossy under the light. There are four rejects in Medusa's pottery room. She has never been one for flowers, but she's starting to like this one.