It seemed like every decade there would be new blood following Dionysus around. His mother dead due to Hera's dirty tricks. His godparents driven mad and slain by Hera once more. Icarus, a trusted companion, now amongst the stars as a constellation.

Perhaps that's why he indulges in the pleasures of the self so often. It's hard to think of the phantoms that follow him around when the wine makes his brain turn into cotton and his vision fuzzy around the edges. And it's certainly hard to think when there's so many people around him experiencing the ecstasy that only the God of Pleasure can bring.

That's what made it hard to believe that he had come to care so much about someone else. Every single time he had cared about another, they ended up losing their lives. He was a curse, a stained God with blood on his hands and a mortal for a parent.

But perhaps he needed someone to treasure, someone he could keep safe and have to himself.

"Do you like the new temple I've had built in my honor?" he asked, his eyes hopeful as he surveyed the person he had come to care so much about. You were a vision, more stunning than Aphrodite — although he wouldn't say that allowed, for fear of losing you to the sometimes-petty Goddess.

"You'll be staying here awhile, so I wanted to make it comfortable for you. Hera is still looking for you, my sweet vine."

Hera, his father's wife. The vengeful Goddess who seemed to wish to make his life hell since he had been conceived. He reached a hand out, softly stroking your face as his voice lowered to a gentle croon. "Don't worry, I won't let her take you from me."

He wouldn't let you be yet another ghost haunting him. No, you would stay alive. And Dionysus would ensure it.