dreamlike.

Phoenix refused to make negotiations; He found them unreasonable, and if he was being asked to do something out of the kindness of his heart, then he needed something in return. “I came from a long line of horrible people. It’s honestly bothersome to explain, but let’s not get into the family drama.” His timer was ticking, glancing between the two before he realized how staring down at her was causing a cramp in the back of his neck. Phoenix rolled his neck, eyes shutting momentarily in terms of short–she had to be at least the worst type of short to exist. “Why the hell are you so tiny? Did you not have any vitamins growing up? It’s concerning and aggravating.” Phoenix filtered through more letters as she spoke about trade until one caught his attention with a chuckle. “Listen to this,” He interrupted her from going on about her soul. “Son of Hades, almighty spirit, I’m planning to get married to the love of my life. I wish for you to bless us, free us from misfortunate, and even though your father may be Hades–” Confusion fell over his features, eyes widening, and with a snap of his finger, he realized why this story sounded so familiar. “It looks like your sister also wants to get rid of you. What are the odds of that? You’re her misfortune. That’s hilarious.” Phoenix was almost delighted to be the center of attention of two sisters, one after the other, and the destruction on both ends was precisely what he needed. “Don’t be weird. I don’t rip the soul from out your body, I simply attach a red bracelet to you for the months you owe. I’ll explain in more detail after you accept,” He dropped all the letters to search for a contract on hand, patting away at body even in places he wouldn’t put the contract. “I know it’s here somewhere. Aha.” His fingers wrapped around a scroll, a twisted smile forming on his lips before handing her the wrapped scroll. “Read the terms and conditions, then sign by using your blood. Don’t be like the last person who bled to death; I asked for a thumbprint, not a wrist slit.” While he waited for her to respond, Phoenix began to dust his shrine with a low hum, and how dusty his area had gotten was disrespectful. Granted, it was his fault in the first place for refusing to check up weekly, but how can an area get so bad after four months? “Would you mind hurrying up?”

“What?” It perhaps wasn’t the brightest of actions to snap something from a godly being's hands yet the mention of her sister regarding a letter had her snatching the paper in an instant. Her sister’s cruelty had been a daily occurrence yet to see it scrawled so brazenly had dragged the venom deeper; that she would want to be rid of her entirely. “I don’t want her to disappear like she wants me to.” It wasn’t a nicety she should have afforded her, the bitterness was simply a tang on her tongue but it never reached her heart. Her sister would always want what Florie had, from clothing to food and the affection of her father, but she had never expected that she would take the person she planned a life with. “They just can’t get married.” She cast the letter aside, allowing it to blend back with the others, a wish she prayed that he wouldn’t heed. “It’s that simple?” Hesitation grew yet despite it, she took the scroll and swiftly unravelled it. Florie knew the warnings; to avoid a deal at all costs because rarely does a god follow through in the way you expect of them. “I’m not going to be a zombie, right? Or a clown… no never mind, I’m reading, I swear I’m reading.” She brushed aside the disarray of roses and letters from the altar’s stool and the ability to read fled her when it was so difficult to ignore the roaring of her heart. Never mind the urging for her to hurry up, stomach fluttering with the fear he’d retract the offer to help her if she hesitated any longer. “Okay, okay. Why do you have so much small print and why is it so tiny?” The contract inches from her face when she gave in to the race of time and her focus swapped to the scanning of the objects laid out for his affections for a sharp edge. Thoughts that it had been a sign that she shouldn’t make the deal had risen if there was nothing to draw blood when she had grazed her hand over one of the many roses. “It’s just a few months for Luka’s sake.” A whisper while she tore her thumb across the thorn, her heart taking on an aggressive thrum but not enough to derail her, nothing could have stopped her from sealing her thumbprint on the bottom of the parchment. “You’re not going to kill me now, are you? I respect your family but I’m not ready to be a sacrifice to a god, my dad… oh my god, I’ll never get to be buried on the hill, he’ll bury me with loopy Littlewood from next door for being a sacrifice to Hades.” 

All the destruction happening around him was bringing him endless joy, not a complaint in the world from him, but his father had nagged him for weeks to check his shrine. A shrine Phoenix had disagreed on because the thought of walking through pitch black in the middle of nowhere for gifts wasn’t worth it. “Do not make me ask you again to check on your shrine.” Hades spoke wrath, and Phoenix knew he had pushed the God too close to the edge. He made his way towards the location, hands in his pockets as his feet dragged underneath him until he reached the unique structure. Phoenix planned to kick the door open, grab the gifts then toss out any requests, except a small voice caught his attention. The praying victim begging for a solution, it activated a half smile as he leaned in to listen carefully to her request. “You’ll do anything?” Phoenix dramatically pushed open the doors, wind becoming a paid actor as his coat danced in the wind. He was ready to conjure up a contract with her poor soul, but a shiny item caught his eye against the marble table. “Ew.” It was almost disrespectful, he couldn’t believe his eyes as he walked around the woman to take hold of the fake jewels. “You don’t deserve good luck for the rest of the year, you cheap bastard. Who brings fake jewels to a shrine?” The disgust in his tone never left not even as he turned to face the woman, darkened features before he officially stood in front of her. “How badly do you want this wedding to end? Are there certain things off limits?” Phoenix set the timer on his watch as he hated his time being wasted. He would find the time to rummage through letters and gifts of fruit which would turn into his lunch. Each letter he read was filled with selfish requests, but none of them were suitable, and tossed over his shoulder they were. “I’ll put an end to the wedding in exchange for your soul. I won’t hold on to it for long, but in the months that I do hold on to it–well, you’ll see a change in your entire demeanor. Deal? If your sister has to suffer, then why shouldn’t you suffer as well?”

The abrupt quake in the world around her had Florie both jolting and ducking in quick succession, barely viewing the opening of the door when she slammed her head back down onto the marble altar. Stars overtaking her vision, an attempt to peer up at the sudden visitor had made him a blur for at least thirty seconds. “Where did you even come from?” A whine into the dark night that she had been pleading with only moments before and although she had heard the stories of luck at receiving his help, she had expected it to be an instant reply if he’d deemed her worthy of his attention. By the time her vision returned, she was locked on the jewels he had snatched off the altar, the glint that came from them was nothing to her once her eyes snapped to his face. A man birthed to the gods was guaranteed beauty, yet the man in front of her had been beyond the scale of her vocabulary to describe him. “I want it to end more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” Of all the unfair situations that her sister had inflicted on her, marrying a boy that she had loved had been the tipping point. “Preferably no one dies though.” It had been an additional thought, a warning from her father blooming in the back of her mind to never make a deal with a god lightly; there would always be a clause you overlooked. “My soul?” She shot to her feet, an action that brought her within a few inches of him, forced to crane her neck to view him clearly. “Why would you want my soul? What if you don’t like it and it tastes funny, oh… do you eat it, no, do you put it in a jar?” Hundreds more questions flurried forward but she found herself tongue-tied in the panic that seized her chest. Her hands patting herself down in the urge to seek a fairer trade, her fingers trailing over the pendant from her father for a brief moment, it was all she had on her person and yet it wasn’t worth giving up. “Is there nothing else you would take from me instead?”