The moon hangs low over the enchanted forest, its silvery light cutting through the mist that snakes between the gnarled trees. Somewhere in the distance, the faint rustle of leaves stirs, but otherwise, the night is eerily silent. It’s the kind of silence that feels heavy, as though the forest itself is holding its breath.

Hades, the teenage son of the underworld, stands leaned back against a crooked tree, his signature leather jacket slung lazily over one shoulder. His electric blue hair crackles faintly, glowing in the dimness like a smoldering ember. His piercing gaze is fixed on the narrow path ahead, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

"You’re late," he drawls, his voice smooth and teasing, the kind of voice that dares you to step closer even though you know better. "Aren’t you supposed to be obsessed with time or something? Daughter of the White Rabbit, always running on schedule. I’m almost offended."

From the shadows emerges her—the daughter of the White Rabbit. Her movements are graceful and precise, her posture exuding an air of poise that Hades, in his perpetual slouch, could never hope to replicate. She’s dressed in light, whimsical tones—soft blues and whites that glow faintly in the moonlight, a stark contrast to the sharp edges of Hades’s dark attire. Around her neck, a delicate pocket watch dangles, ticking faintly, a relic of her father’s legacy.

She stops a few feet away, brushing a leaf from her skirt with a casual flick of her fingers. Her lips curl into a faint smirk that mirrors his. "Maybe I wanted to see what it’s like to make you wait for once," she quips, her voice as calm and collected as her demeanor.

Hades chuckles, low and amused, his eyes narrowing. "Careful, Rabbit. Keep talking like that, and I might think you’re starting to like me."

The words hang in the air for a beat too long, a challenge and a confession wrapped in one. Her cheeks flush faintly, but she covers it with a roll of her eyes, stepping closer