Deleted Scene Memory

[springforth]

It's her room in Artemis' house, pale pink all over and she stands in the middle of it, in her pajamas, fury and fear cascading through her. Red vines curl down over her hair, twist around her body and her eyes are a brilliant deep red. Apollo stands opposite, deep purple with those awful gold eyes, acting concerned, acting like he cares about her. It makes her feel sick. Tears fall hot down her cheeks despite herself.

"N-No please stop crying-" He says, reaching out to wipe the tears from her cheek. Persephone flinches back out of his touch, the faux concern.

"I'd rather deal with the fallout from coming clean than let you hold on to this ongoing delusion."

"Delusion!?" He asks, surprised. Another wave of frustration rises up inside of her.

"Yes, the one where you think I like you." Persephone throws up her hands, "I don't- I don't like you. And I don't want to be with you." She gestures out widely, vaguely, "Make someone else your Olympian." She can't stop crying, despite her anger. The tears just keep flowing down her cheeks, face hot with emotion. In a quick motion, she turns away from him, waiting for him to leave.

"Hades put you up to this." Apollo accuses and she can only blink in disbelief at first, her whole face twitching in barely concealed incredulity. Really?. She turns, halfway and the fear is back, deeper and sharper than ever. He's walking at her, hand raised, maybe in disbelief himself, maybe in anger. Most likely both. Tall and looming and threatening in his anger. Persephone steps back, away, fear coiling in her gut, clutching her hands up tight against her chest. One step and then another, backed out of her room and into the bathroom.

"Right!? He's been telling you all sorts of shit about me--Fucking typical. No wonder you're so confused. Persephone you gotta stop hanging around him. He's bad news." He won't stop walking at her and she's running out of room. Soon she'll back against the bathroom sink. All along, her anger and fear war within her, forcing her to speak up, to push back for just a moment. If she can just make him understand.

"Stop-Stop. He has no idea I did this." She tries to explain, to put him off this stupid track he's on.

'But still, he's told you things about me that aren't true." He spits, leaning in to accuse her directly. He's right up in her face now, those stupid yellow eyes trying to pin her down. "It's just because he's jealous of me-"

"Stop!" Fury boils up over the fear again as she grabs his face, digging her nails in tight enough to pierce his skin. The red vines multiply, curling around her, furious as she is and the tears still falling don't detract her anger. She's so tired of trying to explain, of being nice, of trying to give him some benefit of the doubt.

"This may come as a shock--But we dont talk about you." Her nail, sharp and dug in, drags a thin gold line of ichor along his neck as she pulls him in, to make sure he hears, as her last words come in a righteous fury. "I don't think about you."

She pulls away, breathing heavy. He stares at her, shell shocked and then disbelieving.
Then--like a fucking idiot: "You need time to think over my offer."

"I don't." She throws her hands up again. What does she have to say--what can she say, to make him understand! Stop putting words in her mouth!

"You're hysterical right now." Then he comes at her, grabbing at her top and looming over her, calm arrogance in every gesture. As if it's his right, as he can just grab her and dictate how things go. "If you agree to be with me, and you if you apologize for the lyre. I'll let it go."

"I'll never agree to that!" She spits, trying to pull away. He has her backed up against the sink, his grip shifting to her shoulder. He hardly looks phased by her, like she's--like she's throwing a temper tantrum!

"Remember, Hera doesn't like Zeus that much, and I'm happy to settle for the same arrangement. I don't need you to like me to be my wife."