Fallen
She worked slowly, methodically — pruning, clearing, planting.
Each flower she placed in the soil was a quiet rebellion. A whisper of who she used to be. Who she still was, somewhere beneath the bruises and silence.
Hours passed. Her hands were dirty, her knees sore, but her heart beat steadier.
She didn’t hear Hades return.
But when she looked up and saw him watching her from the balcony, arms crossed, expression unreadable — her breath caught.
He didn’t speak. Just stared evily.
She lowered her gaze and already expecting a punishment.
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