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33 - Aphrodite's Scent
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Aphrodite is a multifaceted deity—an ambassador of beauty, harmonious passion, and procreation. Yet mortal could never capture the goddess's charm, because beauty was a versatile concept, its ever-changing. Beauty could be hummingbird's summer twitter, fragile petals of velvet roses, or the rosy-tinted sunrays on grains of beach sands—beauty was various and limitless.
In Hogwarts, agreed by many, beauty had taken the form of Sirius Black's in-breed genetic sequences. The charm of the rebellious boy was phenomenal: the melted metal eyes piercing like the moon between the wild raven canvas. Sunset hues settled on his skin, decorated with vivid lines of scar from quidditch. When he spoke oh his words held whimsical melody that melted girls to puddle.
But now, the charm worn-out. His eyes bore to his pale fingers, coldness prickled his dermis trying to shake the said boy back to reality. Lips parted and he blinked ever-so-slowly, stammering, "She, she — she said yes." he gulped, metallic eyes darted ingenuously to the Ravenclaws sat across him. "Brother-in-law, what should I do?"
The blond sat across him scrunched his face as his eyes peeled from his herbology book up to Sirius, "Stop calling me brother-in-law." groaned the boy once the Gryffindor beamed at him, "It's just a date, and bring her to puddifoot or something, mind you, we're trying to study!"
"Oh come on, why are you two studying in the great hall like a book nerd." Sirius rolled his eyes, then darted his gaze to the Irish, who was reading on theories of Bastet. "I need you to be supportive over here, what's the word—" he paused, scratching his hair, "Ah encouragement!"
Sirius knocked his fist on the table, his steel eyes searched through the great hall. Most of the students were grouping, in two-by-two arrangement—couples. The scent of chocolates and roses evaded the hall. Owls dropping posts of sweet messages and romantic gestures. Fumes of pink was roaming in the air—love and its suffocating affection.
Sirius was in the same ambiance once Marlene McKinnon agreed to go to Hogsmeade the following Saturday, Valentine's day.
"You two are the only one who's not snogging each other in this table." chanted Sirius sullenly, huffing right after. Martin and Gammaliel looked away, feeling their cheeks burned.
"Three, count yourself in, Black." muttered Martin quietly, swallowing thickly at his thought.
The Irish chuckled awkwardly, darting her gaze to Sirius, "Well, shall I remind you that you sit on Ravenclaw's table, precisely fifth years, Pads." she exhaled, hands flipping to the next page, "We have O.W.Ls to worry about rather than experiencing snogging at the time being."
The Ravenclaws shared a mischievous grin before looking back to their books. Hush creeping between the three of them, pouting out of dismay Sirius wished either one of his pals would show up. Remus was studying with Lily and James tagged along, while Peter was stuck in detention.
"Urgh." the Gryffindor huffed, resting his head on the teakwood surface out frustration. Raven hair fell over his face, subtle sigh escaped from his lips. The casanova had never been so clueless, certainly, he talked to myriad of women—yet none quite like Marlene the blunt blonde. He darted his eyes to the great hall entrance and then, his other-half, James Potter, decided to show up.
"Perfect." Black grinned, head shot up from the table he wolf-whistled and waving his hand in the air. "Oi, Prongs!"
The Potter boy screwed his eyes around then, sped his steps towards Sirius in the Ravenclaw's table. His bag slung across his body, jet-black hair spiked through the Valentine's air, and a wicked grin plastered on his face. Following behind him was Remus who was humming to himself.
James shifted himself to sit beside Sirius, grinning and tossed his bag in front of him, "I got just the thing for Saturday." he snickered, hand digging inside his bag and took out a small vial. "Here!"
Remus settled himself sat next to Gammaliel, giving her a polite nod before turning to his friends. Sirius peered down to the vial, the said potion was glistening in pearly indigo color. Potter motioned to twist open the vial and the scent soaked around the table. Smelling the familiar fragrance, Gemma's gaze torn to the vial—it was coming from the potion.
The scent.
"Is that Amortentia?" she inquired, azure eyes met the mischief pairs of James as he nodded. Then she scrunched her face, "What's that for? Not going to give it to Lily—"
"No! For Godric's sake no, Merlin." James cut off with brows furrowed, curving his lips upward then slouched closer. His hazel eyes twinkled with mischief and from that sight, Gemma knew the boy far too long to know it was for another prank. "This is Marauder's greatest plan, yet."
Remus exhaled deeply beside her, pulling out a chocolate bar from his robe. "They're going to spike Filch's tea and Snivellus is going to have a proper admirer." he breathed deeply before breaking a part of his chocolate, "Credits to Padfoot."
James nodded giddily, Gemma and Martin shared a look before shaking their head. Despite they were getting older none of the Marauders seemed to lost their courage and sense of humor. Gemma wished they remained that way, the four Gryffindors had always been the glimpse of light that distracted her away from her thoughts.
"Wicked, right?" queried Potter assuringly, turning his head to Gryffindor's table where a redhead sat next to a blonde. "Courtesy of Lily, helped us nicked this earlier — Slughorn didn't notice we were there."
"Must you mention that?" queried the Irish girl, narrowing her azure eyes teasingly at James as he admired the vermillion-haired girl.
Remus shook his head before turned to face the witch, "Just let him be, he's excited he got to first-name basis." he quipped, making the Ravenclaw snickered as James tossed chips to his face.
"Well, excellent. That's good. But I don't think I can." Sirius broke off the laughter, hands fidgetting on his robes. James and Remus quirked their brows to the boy, surprised as if Banshee had materialized before them. Sirius hesitated for a second, his eyes ping-ponged between Remus and James, "I — I - I can't go."
"What's wrong with you?" inquired James rather loudly, the rest of the Ravenclaws table turned to him as the boy's voice destroyed their concentration. Still, James didn't care, "What do you mean? We've been planning this for weeks?!"
"That's new." mused Remus quietly.
James leaned to Black, "Why?"
Sirius inhaled deeply, and it happened the Sirius Black became speechless and nervous. Irises rattled for a split second, swallowing thickly, "Marlene and I have a date this Saturday."
A long silence followed his sentence.
James' jaw unhinged as Remus bit into his chocolate bar while Sirius gave a too-sugary smile. Then Potter laughed, "Yeah, and Remus shagged a girl!" snorted James, elbowing Black in the arm, "You almost got me, nice one, Padfoot."
"I'm serious!"
"Yes, you are." James and Remus said in unison, though they hid their scant grin in disbelief.
"Oh fuck off you both!"
"I think, this is the right time we escape from them. Library?" Martin's voice hit Gemma's ear like a tickle, and the Irish nodded before following his lead, slowly rose from their seat. A few more Sirius spoke something that sounded like—I swear on the map—and then James and Remus turned to Martin and Gemma. The two smiled guiltily, "Fuck."
"Where do you think you are going?" James raised his head to Martin.
"Library?" The blond swallowed harshly at the intimidating gaze, Gemma grinned beside him so satisfyingly.
"Sit your ass down." James ordered.
Gemma patted Martin's shoulder, leaning to the boy's ear, "I'll see you later." whispered the witch before she pivoted on her heels, leaving Martin with the Marauder's company.
She thought of all Martin's future whining as she climbed down the stairs. Quietness wrapped around Gammaliel's ears as she entered the library. It was relieving at once that she finally got time on her own. Marty was great but a girl needed boys-free time for an hour or two or she would lose her mind.
Her fingers wrapped around her left forearms securing the strange scar. Gammaliel had been observing the scar, lava blue, a straight line, and the last few days three symmetrical dots appeared at the end of it. It had been almost a month and the scar did not fade away.
She tried every healing spell she knew every night to get rid of it and yet it remained—tattooed to her skin. Merlin was helpless, the portrait would refuse to meet her back at home and Alphard hadn't return the day she had to depart back to Hogwarts. Finally, she concluded that the scar was unordinary.
"Too many strange things." she muttered to herself, eyes rummaging on the book section of Celtic magical history—the only book section that made sense to her lately. Whereas the other fifth years were burying their nose on books for O.W.L, she was occupied with personal ordeal.
Her conversation with the head of house, Fillius Flitwick the other day was pointless—the witch was qualified for at least eleven O's from her academic record—yet she didn't find any of the wizarding job interesting. Her father was the head of the Order of Merlin foundation, after his resignation the next in line was Alphard. Instead, the older heir reached a path to Chief Warlock of Wizengamot.
The bar was so high that she could simply say she wanted to be the first witch on the moon and it would be normal. As much as she tried to ignore it having Merlin surname was much—much heavier as she grew up. Then again, the future seemed grey in her eyes—dark marks, death, missing, holocaust—the word future was a mere pretense.
In desperate times as such, why should she look forward when war loomed and bleaking out there?
She could be dead next year, next month, or the next day. Gemma had at least a foot-long list of how she would die in this war, all of them involving her strangled by darkness. Who could blame the witch, when she was a vessel of hell-fire—and it feeds off her psyche and mind.
To her, nothing was certain.
The Irish witch raised her hand and snapped her fingers, the book flew into her palm. Eagerly, she rushed to the desired chapter: The Triple Goddess—and chills crawled up rapidly to her nape. Gemma pulled the book closer to her chest, feeling curiosity drowned her being. Her fingers traced on a symbol written on the book, her eyes peering back to her left forearm.
Identical.
Most of the time, she could hide the scar from a stranger's eyes with her robe. The Merlin's heiress took a deep breath pulled her sleeve lower to reveal the azure scar, still glistening.
"Maiden, Mother, Crone." came a deep voice behind her, as she jumped in surprised. The witch twisted around to find grey eyes landed curiously on hers. He arched an eyebrow, "What's that?"
"Regulus." the witch exhaled deeply, pressing the book closer to her chest, and shook her head. The boy narrowed his eyes as she went, "What are you doing in here?" queried the witch, her heart pacing faster at his presence. The boy peered down to her arm, narrowing his eyes before he could part his lips to ask she hid the scar back with her sleeves.
"It's— it's nothing."
Regulus tilted his head, "Nothing?" queried the boy as he stepped forward, eyes fixated on the book. "Then why did you look so scared?"
"Well, I'm not the one reading from someone's shoulder am I?" queried the Irish daringly. A bratty pout came into a view before she pivoted on her heels, stepping away.
Regulus drew his lips into a line, hiding his smirk, and followed closely behind her. "I'm not the one suspiciously reading like it was a satanic book."
"Funny," Gemma scoffed, rolling her eyes. She motioned her hand to pull a chair, then turned her head to meet Regulus's face, which was vacant of expression as per usual. "The closest resemblance of senseless devil over here is you."
The witch sat down slamming the book on the table rather harshly. Regulus pulled the chair by her side, tossing his bag on the wooden surface, then went on with. "Impressive, you almost set me on fire the other week."
"You threw me off to the fucking lake!" Gemma protested with furrowed brows, he settled himself on the chair calmly pulling out a set of potion book. "Do you know how freezing the water was?"
The Slytherin prefect exhaled deeply, a vague smile plastered on his face. "You received pepperup potion the next day, didn't you?" he peeled his gaze to meet the navagio eyes. Gemma peered down to her book, nodding. "Then that's good enough for me to request another rendezvous, is it not?"
Gemma sat up straighter, "Pardon?"
The scent evaded her nose, he leaned closer, lips scrapping to her ear. She took a deep breath feeling his minty breath fashioned a layer of dew on her skin, "Astronomy tower, ten sharp, this saturday."
"What makes you think I want to?" queried Gemma with a side-eye, the boy fashioned a daring smirk on his face. Melted steel met the navagio sea and they paused; eyes speaking language of stars.
"Will you then?"
And flames burned their psyche, resonating the same heatwave flushed over their body. Gemma never knew stars could look so enthralling up close, when all she knew they were just gigantic exploding hydrogens—Regulus, despite not as bright as Sirius, was bright enough to her eyes.
Someone cleared their throat.
The two jerked apart, turning their head to find Evan stood, pulling a chair across them. "Studying?" was the first word that came from him, a smug grin plastered on his face watching the two stars burning their skin from the racing blood-rush. "Oh, pardon me. Did I interrupt anything?"
"Not at all." Regulus cleared his throat.
Rosier then went completely silent with obvious mischief glinting in his eyes. Luckily, his gaze was darted to the Slytherin. Scribbling to a parchment, Gammaliel inhaled the scent that made her hand trembled while writing the word: yes.
***
Erroneous atmosphere graced the cold Hogsmeade while Martin McKinnon cursed to the grey skyline in brand-new Irish words—for all the trouble the four Marauders had made him do. Gammaliel corrected the pronunciation one or thrice and he would be grunting to let him whine in peace.
"Why are we here? Just leave my sister alone, you see they can handle it." the blond boy groaned, James shushed him up immediately.
"We're here for STDs." James said in a hush, the Ravenclaws raised their eyebrows in surprise. Their face was death-pales and bloodless as James went on, "Sirius's Terrific Date supports."
Martin exhaled out of relief before blurting out, "You don't take Muggle studies seriously do you?"
James shook his head. "Nope."
"This cloak is barely fit for the five of us why are you dragging me here?" Gemma whined quietly, making Remus chuckled behind her. The heiress shook her head, "Besides their date is almost over, they are walking towards the castle."
"That's why." began Peter, inhaling deeply as he went on to whisper to Gemma's ear discreetly, "This is the cherry on top of the plan. If he failed James and Sirius owe me five galleons."
"Failed what?" Gemma asked curiously.
Before Peter could part his lips to explain there was a sudden rush from the cloak. Gemma darted her gaze to find Martin revealed himself from under the invisibility cloak. Pacing forward furiously, "Stop touching my sister you scandalous git!"
"What the hell?" Sirius exclaimed as the blond pulled him aside from the girl.
"Nugget!" Marlene's voice came in a shrill once the blond and Sirius were on the ground, wrestling childishly between the snowy ground.
With that, Gammaliel, Peter, and Remus were chuckling from under the cloak while James dashed out the cloak to stop Martin's fist claiming Sirius's face. Gemma hadn't laughed so loud until then.
After Martin knocked some layers of snow to the Black's heir face. Martin and Sirius were not in the mood for talking after Marlene slapped both of them—James's face was scarred with trauma, taking a mental note to not mess with the blonde girl. The seven of them walked back to the castle in awkward silence.
Thank High Merlin the house systems existed at the dinner time. McKinnon was still in a bad mood as if someone snuck a sack of dragon dung into his bag though he was a tad calmer than earlier. Gemma spooned the pudding quietly, her gaze gravitated to the other table across hers, Slytherin's.
Martin must have said something important that he elbowed her. Gemma tore her gaze back to meet the blond's eyes innocently. "What?"
"Have you figured it out?"
"Figured out what?"
Gemma heard him sigh, he stabbed his fork on Valentine's special chocolate cake. "What happened to your arm?" he motioned his eyes to her left hand, she furrowed her brows. "It's hard to miss."
She peered down, scooping her pudding empty. "It's from the accident."
Martin sat straighter, sharp, "It's been weeks since Christmas, why is it not fading?"
Gammaliel knew the blond long enough that he would freak out had she told him what she knew. She turned to meet his eyes and said. "I haven't figured it out thoroughly, perhaps, by the summer." she shot her guess, curving her lips upward. "When Críonna is not mad at me. Or I can ask Alpha."
It was a half-lie yet assurance was what he needed at the time being. A relieved sigh escaped from his lips as he stabbed the chocolate cake once again. He spared a glance to the house of serpent's table, his lips curled in distate.
"Look at Rosier," he began, "He sits next to Avery almost everyday, he's going to be one of them, it's just a matter of time—"
"Marty." Gemma cut him off, an undaunted glare was sent at him. "Stop talking."
Gemma had been trying to confide the issue to Evan. Over a cup of hot chocolate on the Kitchen's table, she tried to figure out the reason behind his quarrels. But the french boy insisted that nothing happened to him during the holidays. Instead, he spent the rest of the evening by telling her tale of world's injustice. Albeit, she had noticed that the flicker of light in his hazel eyes had vanished.
In this space of time, she debated whether she understood Evan Rosier anymore.
Martin did not stop. No, he failed to see the girl's frustration. "Look at him!"
Gammaliel slammed her spoon on the table, startling him. "I know him before I even know you," she declared, loud and firm. "He is my friend. So don't act like you know him better than I do."
Silence stretched between them.
"Fine." stated McKinnon sharply, tearing his gaze away, "In time I'm ninety percent sure I will say I told you so in the future."
"One more time I hear you speak of Evan like this," she leaned to him, teeth barred out of anger. "I might show you all kind of knives tricks Evan taught me when we were kids."
Martin's eyes were trained on the brewing fury hidden in her eyes, there was something vile nested behin those azure irises. He had never seen the girl so mad over something. The witch pulled herself away from him, restraining her anger. She rose from her seat and he heard the footsteps echoed, marching out of the Great Hall.
***
Saturday. Ten sharp. Astronomy Tower turned out to be a bright night. The canvas saturated darker without residue of cyrus clouds or the grey mist that usually tainted the navy sky. Stars scattered like dust on the canvas, bright hues of orange and red twinkled. And when the stars were supposed to shine in the air, two stars of Leo were chatting.
"I swear on my ancestor's sake." Gammaliel's timbre was saccharine to Regulus's ear. Almost as gentle as ocean waves and the navagio sea twirled at the back of his mind, relishing light in his shadows. "I'll do anything if you catch the snitch."
"Anything?" he repeated with a wicked grin as she blinked at him. "You should be careful, Raven."
The girl shrugged it away. "What's the worse can happen?" she pondered, drawing her lips into a line before she added lightly. "Oh—if you dare ask anything funny I'll burn you."
Regulus shook his head at her answer, the grin on his lips bloomed into a timid smile, "I'll catch the snitch and you will be the first to know."
"Don't be so cocky, Black." she answered with a pout then tore her gaze to the star-speckled sky. For a moment, a comfortable silent blanketed the space between them. The crisp Valentine's breeze brushed past her jumper and his sweater, carrying the scent of frosted woods and fresh snow.
She bit her lips, pondering at the sensation she felt in that tower. The cold toned down the warmth of hot chocolate she had earlier and the bejeweled sky had the suitable amount of light to enhance such serene night. But what made the nuance different from previous nights or any Valentine's day she had before was the person who sat by her side.
"Gammaliel, look." Regulus called, his gaze at the sky never wavered. With a smile, he raised his finger at their right and said. "Our stars are here."
When Gemma shifted her attention to follow his cue she found them, the lion of the Galaxy was roaring its power through the darkness, luminous enough to steal their attention that night. And there they were, sat and twinkling in the hues of orange and blue, Gamma-Leonis and Regulus. It was as if they were mirroring what the witch and the wizard did on earth.
"Swear it," he said again, though he sounded way joyful than earlier. "Swear it under Leo's light."
She wasn't sure was it the cold or excitement that coaxed her shiver, "Fine," she began with a grin, then she twisted her jaw to meet his eyes. "I swear on our stars, I will do anything you ask if you catch the snitch on your next match."
Regulus did not say a word but he maintained his eyes on her. He studied her face. The starlight was enough to reveal her jewel eyes then his gaze traveled to her lips. His eyes remained there for a moment and it felt like there was an invisible string, stretched like hot taffy between him and her, pulling them close.
Only now he realized how close he was to her, enough to spot a snowflake that was trapped on her lashes. He breathlessly said. "On our stars."
"On our stars." she repeated like a litanny, light as winter breeze that brushed past their face. But it was this breeze too that snapped her head away from him and jerked them apart.
He cleared his throat.
She squirmed for warmth.
"How did you know?" Regulus leaned his back against the wall, he turned to the side. Her nose was arched up to the sky, streams of her chocolate hair brushed her face under the dimmed light.
"Know what?"
"My birthday." he answered, eyes studying her side profile.
"If I tell you, you will be mad at me." replied the girl, turning her head to the side and Regulus's smile vaporized into a line at that answer.
"The traitor." guessed the Slytherin prefect and she gave him a nod in return. There was a short silence as Regulus looked away.
Gammaliel rolled her eyes, "Are you ever going to stop calling Sirius a traitor?"
He didn't answer her at first but soon enough she heard him sigh deeply and asked. "What do you think of all this, Gem?" he tore his gaze back to her, "The war. Will you pick a side? Do you choose the light or the dark?"
Zygo leaned her back against the wall exhaled as deeply trying to supply her brain to think straight. "I know where I stand. But there is no pure light or dark Reg in this world." she began, Black knitted his brows, "You see, this is a civil war, war strategy isn't always noble, it could be filthy, sneaky, and back-stabbing. So if you choose a side, you can never be sure if the version of your allies' victory could be justified."
Regulus looked up to the sky, he curved his lips upward in dismay. "But it's all clear isn't it? Don't you think that our pride, as a pureblood, should be restored the way it used to?"
"Used to?" She arched an eyebrow. "Regulus, Merlin himself, had to practice witchcraft in secret or he would be beheaded."
He furrowed his brows. "You know what I mean."
"Is it worth killing for? — the news the macabre and holocaust ruling our day does that bother you?" Gemma's voice faltered and Regulus paused gazing at what must be Orion constellation. She wrapped her hands around her knees. "War written by the fates because we, mortals, need to learn. But who knows what we could learn from bloodshed. We're living in a time where we could die at any moment."
"Are you afraid then?" Regulus's gaze was stone cold. "Death. Do you fear it?"
The Irish's laugh was crystalline as if he had told her a joke, "No." she answered, resting her head on her knees. "I've been there, underworld, or hell, the dark or whatever you believe in." the word escaped from her lips before she could register it—his eyes studied her expression.
She meant it.
"What?" Regulus's voice hollow.
Her gaze bore to his eyes, "Did Avery not tell you then?" she arched an eyebrow, "I noticed you know, you and Evan had been hanging out with him and his acolytes. He must have told you two about that time that I died."
Regulus gulped, he parted his lips and said, "No."
His eyes wandered back to her face. "I didn't fancy his company. To be frank, he's nauseating, so full of himself. He must've told me when I wasn't paying attention," he said. "Do you mind telling me?"
Mahogany.
"Do you have time for a long story?"
"We have all night, Raven."
The Irish witch smiled at his reply, it wasn't the eager type of Martin. There was no sign of pity as she began to tell him how she was at the edge of the death kiss for a few minutes. Dying was eternal sleep for the Merlin heiress and when she believed the bad and the good, passing away was peaceful.
Cinnamon.
Regulus's body stiffened at her story, and the boy began to connect the dots of theory—assembled the puzzle pieces of Gammaliel Zygo. Once the story finished, the girl looked away to the stars. He could see her thought was floating somewhere else. With that, he swallowed thickly as he took out something from his bag.
Gemma's senses were invaded by the scent of peony then she tore her gaze to find a bouquet of peonies was on his extended hand. She looked up to the boy's eyes again, and when Regulus's face was vacant of expression his eyes spoke the sincerity that melted her heart. She was sure her cheeks were the same shade as the flowers.
He shivered, his lips parted and sealed, he did so for a few more times, pondering what he should or shouldn't say next. She remained still, waiting for his courage to build up. When he gazed at her, he said. "Last year, you gave me a flower," he began. She blinked and the memory of a blooming peony on her palm many moons ago revisited her mind. "It was the same as this one."
"Did you-" Gemma paused, cold seeped into her skin. "-did you keep it?"
The answer was immediate, not in words but in the shift of crimson on his face and racing heart beat. "I figured it was too beautiful to throw away," his voice was soft, unlike his usual crisp and low timbre. "Before I found out that you enchanted it to never frost, so yes, I keep it."
Gemma smiled but didn't say anything else.
"I thought—" he stammered, fingers wrapped in foreign coldness, "I thought you might like them."
Peppermint.
Lies. He knew exactly she liked them, and he would absolutely hex Evan Leon Rosier for bringing up the idea if she refused the gesture. God, he didn't even know why he did that, the feeling was strange to his palates. But he knew it was right to do so, and when he found her smile as she took the flowers—a great relief washed over him like a sea wave.
Gemma stared at him gently, he had always been so enchanting—while the rest of the girls had their eyes for Sirius Black. Regulus had always brought her the beauty of serene midnight view. If Aphrodite was the embodiment of beauty, then the goddess must have been deadly too. For Gemma looked at the boy they all warned as dangerous as her Aphrodite—he was beautiful when he shouldn't have been so.
Amortentia captured Aphrodite's scent, whereas it was limitless, to Gemma it was mint, cinnamon, and mahogany. The scent of him. The boy returned on rambling about constellation, but she could only hear her racing heartbeat. Her eyes studied his face trying to find a trace of affection— there was one.
His eyes.
While the boy kept denying that feelings were no part of his demonic being. His eyes spoke nothing but verity—they were absent-mindedly following the way her hair swayed. Or the way darkness beamed into light when he stared at her.
He discovered that she had darkness too, and his gaze at her evolved into a spark of hope. Maybe she was right, there was nothing such as pure darkness or light in this world. The two co-existed. Perhaps, finding their darkness matched in certain frequency that only the stars knew—Regulus felt not so alone anymore.
In amid of sentimentality and impulsiveness a kiss landed on his cheek. Peony ruled Hades' psyche as he froze at the affectionate gesture.
Gemma knew she was romantically doomed to fall for the boy who was destined to die.
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Author's note:
Gemma be like Ill do anything you ask
Reggie, the very next day:
⚠️ ANY REPOST OR USE REQUIRE MY PERMISSION!! AND MUST INCLUDE MY HANDLE! DO NOT STEAL MY EDITS ⚠️