Apate, Goddess of Deceit, Guile, Fraud & Deception (apate) wrote in deities_dot_com,
He wanted to know what she wanted? Hell, Apate didn’t even know what she wanted anymore. Obviously he was looking for an answer similar to his, that she wanted more. More than what? There was an argument to be made that in increasing the antagonism between them was an indication that she wanted more, but it patently was not the sort of more he was looking for. What was this? Was he trying to “fix” her? Fuck that. She wasn’t broken.
Except she sort of was. Everything was going wrong, spinning out of her tight control, and she didn’t know why. There was a problem somewhere, but she couldn’t find it to correct it. Would the direction Prometheus was leading give her resolution? Or would it just make it worse? Apate was automatically inclined to believe it was the latter, but telling him that probably wouldn’t do her any good. Would agreeing with him get him to leave? Because right then, that was the only thing Deceit knew for certain that she wanted.
Once he left, she could go to her bedroom and lock the door. Anybody who saw that room would be shocked that it belonged to Apate. In complete contrast to the rest of her beige and Ikea decor, her bedroom was lush and sensuous. Everything was done in a deep emerald green, from the plush carpeting to the satin-finished wallpaper to the velvet and silk bedding. All of it was exactly the same shade, making the swirling brass of her bed frame almost glow in comparison. It was soft and rich, and the place where Apate could be exactly who she was without masks or barriers. Which was exactly why nobody, not even Dolos, was ever allowed inside. But it was exactly where she needed to be in that moment. Someplace far, far away from Prometheus, the unsettled way he made her feel and his disturbing questions.
Maybe she should give him a taste of his own medicine. Give him back a question of her own. Maybe that would shut him up. And it would keep her from having to actually reply when she really didn’t have any sort of answer. “Why do you care?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to call them back. Because she had the feeling that she was not going to like his answer, that it was somehow going to hurt her. And she wasn’t in a position right now to handle that as well as she normally would. She didn’t want to hear his answer at all. Did she?