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"Well?" asks Persephone, looking up at Hades expectantly. "C’mon. I wanna get ice cream. It’s too hot in here."
Hades groans from where he’s lying on the sofa, face down and carefully positioned so that there’s a cross wind from the doorway and the window. The window that his girlfriend is ever-so-lovingly blocking. Why did he have to be dating such a little shit?
Persephone taps her foot impatiently. “Hades,” she says, voice firm. “It’s too hot inside. Let’s go out. To the skating rink. I can’t bear it in here. I feel like my skin is sweating off.”
Hades groans again, and lifts his face up from the disgustingly damp pillow. “But that’ll require going outside, which will require sunlight touching me,” he complains, and she lets out a little huff, impossibly fond.
"Hades," she says, and his eyes narrow at how sweet her voice has become. "Darling. Dearest. Hades, if we go out to the ice rink, I’ll buy you an ice cream to make up for it. Double scoops. Think of how blissfully cool it’ll be," she tells him, and he can feel her fingers in his mussed up, sweaty hair, gently twisting through the strands. "How does that sound?"
"I’ve decided we should go to the ice rink," Hades says as he sits up, and Persephone lets out a victorious giggle, cut short when he waves a hand for her to stop, "not because you told me to, but because I came to the conclusion by my own independent thought. Right now, I’m going to go shower."
Persephone shoots him a withering look.
"God, I love you," he says, and pulls her close enough to kiss the tip of her nose. "I really, really love you. What would you say if I asked you to run away with me?"
"I’d say you were stalling for time before going to the ice rink," she retorts, and hits his arm lightly. "Go on! Shower!"
He’s laughing as he gets up, shaking a hand through his hair and tiptoeing towards the bathroom door, trying to avoid touching the sweltering floorboards as much as possible. “I really do mean it, y’know, princess,” he says once he’s reached the door. “Do you think your mum would let you move in with me?”
She snorts, looking over her collection of scarves. Hades rests his hand on the jut of his hip as he watches her, smiling just from looking at how she moves around his bedroom as though it were her own. “Nope. No way in hell.”
"I guess I’ll just have to steal you away, then."
"You do that, Hades. You do that."