for whom the floowers weep.

quite as she suspected. though, the anticipation of this heavy heart of his doesn’t change her approach in the slightest, a temporary, almost effortless adjustment made to face the perturbed creatures in question.   ❛  poor things … i had been wondering how they were going to take to the rain today.  ❜  of course, with a rather considerate foresight, she had also wondered how he would take to this obstacle.

and thus, her resolve to spare him the ache of empathy’s weight within him, if even only for a moment, was predetermined.

❛  you ought to leave the gloom to the clouds.  ❜  she reaffirms her place by his side with a gentle nudge of his arm, even eliciting quite the smile out of herself all the while. through it all, she remains tender, in gesture, gaze, and consolation altogether.   ❛  i know it may not be ideal right now, but i can’t imagine this being a permanent issue for them — the rains are bound to cease soon enough, so i’m certain we’ll have more success then.  ❜  

“. . . you’re right, i simply —” he worries. his words fall short as he lets himself watch the little creatures for just a little longer, his eyes tracing their movements, frantic, bewildered — “i simply did not wish for them to be both unsettled and hungry and . . . by themselves.” perhaps it seems silly — to worry about the loneliness of creatures who for the others never cared for their presence at all. but the ache of his heart is a piercing anchor.

he glances toward aphrodite. something plain and quiet stirs inside him, as it always does — but he turns away, fearful of lingering, toward the building where he is expected. he wonders what might be asked of him.

in truth, she's rather fond of being the self - proclaimed keeper of a certain chief overseer. experience makes for a rather simple job, as it hardly takes more than a few moments to locate him, and even less of a glance to see what he was up to. pond - side, as expected, and intent upon the observation of the creatures beneath the water's surface. even she, albeit briefly, wonders how they take to the ripples above them.

❛  hermes.  ❜   spoken so gentle, one could mistake it easily for the sprinkling of rain. had it not been for the touch upon his shoulder, she might have been missed entirely. even with his features obscured, his ambiance offers the faintest twinge of something impassioned ---  familiar though it may be now, nothing will ever quite mitigate how deeply it resounds in her own chest.   ❛  they're asking for your presence back inside ... though, i don't imagine it'll take long --- i can watch our little friends here for you, if you'd like.  ❜

standing up slowly, hermes looks away from the clear, rippling water. his gaze shifts — within it, a fluctuation of emotions, as if he has emerged from a paradisal something into a world that mires him. he looks toward aphrodite passively, like turning toward sunlight — or imbibing a wish.

still, the lines on his face temper his efforts at a smile. 

the weight of his duties, stinging, exhausting, returns to his shoulders. hermes exhales softly: a kind of acceptance. “thank you.”

weariness, dread, at what once brought joy — only joy. he does not grieve this joy anymore. he does not think about it anymore, but suddenly and briefly now — he worries. how plain it all is. how clear it must be to anyone looking. his eyes flicker — he drops his gaze, returning to the creatures darting underneath the dancing surface of the water.