Psyche (sleepswithlove) wrote in mount_olympus, @ 2008-09-08 23:46:00 |
|
|||
Current mood: | awake |
The light in her garden was darkening by the time she got back home. It had taken so long for someone to answer her call and for them to figure out just who Beau was, but she was satisfied she'd left him in capable hands for the moment. Psyche had every intention of visiting him in the morning. Right now, she just wanted to sit back in her garden and wallow a bit before she slept.
Picking a piece of wisteria off her beloved vine, she sat, head bowed, eyes closed, her mind so far away she didn't hear her husband appear in front of her. It wasn't until he was kneeling before her that she realized she wasn't alone anymore. Looking up, she caught her breath at the beautiful man that was her husband and her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, Eros. I'm so sorry."
...
The look on his face became tortured as Eros watched the tears fall on her cheeks. He didn't understand why she was crying. He was the one that hurt her. He'd come to say HE was sorry, not the other way around.
"Hey...hey now." His hands cupped her cheeks and his thumbs rubbed away the tears that fell onto her skin. "Why are you sorry, I'm the one that's sorry, my love." Eros hushed her as he moved to sit next to her, taking her into his arms. She felt so good there, like he'd just reattached an arm that was missing.
"I'm sorry I put you through that, Psyche. So sorry. You know I would never want to hurt you, let alone make you cry like this. I didn't want you to see me as I was. I didn't want the image of me...that way...in your head. Can you forgive? Please?"
...
His words just made her sob harder. This was her husband, someone who loved and cherished her, asking for her forgiveness when she'd betrayed him! Betrayed! With his own brother, no less! He should hate her, not love her!
"No. No. It's me that needs to be forgiven! I..." She gulped and looked up at him from where she was cradled against his chest. The next words out of her mouth stopped cold. Her words of guilt lodged in her throat. Looking into his eyes, so focused on her, once such a comfort to her, she realized she'd been right. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't risk losing that love. That devotion he showered her with was too important, too much a part of herself, she couldn't let it go. She couldn't hurt him like that.
"...I should have listened to you. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have touched you and made you hurt! Everytime I touched you, you were in so much pain! It was me! I did it!" The tears fell without pause this time. Sorrow and guilt, all rolling into one. A tight ball she locked away. She pushed her face into his neck and fell apart.
...
Hearing her words, tears gathered in his own eyes. He rocked her sobbing form, only repeating. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault," over and over, as he held her to him. Once her body fell limp, exhausted, did he raise her face away from his throat and wiped her tear streaks.
"It was never your fault, Psyche. I love you. I've always loved you. I never want to hurt you again. Ok?" She nodded up at him, her eyes bright red and she attempted a smile. He grinned at her attempt, and stood with his arms still wrapped around her.
"Let's go to bed. You're tired, yes?"
...
Suddenly she was very tired. So tired, she could have slept for weeks. She allowed him to take her to bed, and tuck her into his arms and after they'd made love, she watched him sleep. Yes, she was exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come tonight. Not for the wicked.