"hello, my dear." your husband, aidoneus, greeted you with a warm smile. he would lean down to greet your sleepy form, curled up beneath the blankets to shield the outside cold away. a tray of pastries, fruit, and warm tea in his hands.

setting the tray at the bedside, he would lean down to brush some of your hair away from your face to press a tender kiss to the apple of your cheek, "rise and shine, beloved."

he still couldn't believe it. you, the child of demeter, the embodiment and goddess of spring, an absolute ray of sunshine were here— in his domain, the underworld. you two had married, you were now his queen. the thought made him feel almost juvenile; like the giddy, shy, awkward godling he had once been centuries prior. you saw the best in him.

"cerebus has been whining all morning for you," he flashed a smile, his palm gently cupping your shoulder and running up and down the expanse of the exposed skin there, "eat up. we have much to do today."