“Persephone was the goddess of spring, daughter of Demeter, the goddess of the harvest, and she was…young and beautiful,” he said, his eyes tracing over me in such a tangible way, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to shy away or spread myself bare for his perusal. “Full of life and energy. She had her admirers. One of whom was Hades, the God of the Underworld. She would go to the river beds and Hades would look up from the Underworld, up through the river, and long for her,” Auguste said. He fed me another pinch of pomegranate seeds, and this time, he let his fingertips trace over my bottom lip, cold juice spreading and staining my skin with the touch.
“One day, he stole her from the riverbed and took her down to the Underworld with him to keep her as his bride. Demeter was heartbroken, and she went directly to Zeus, who was the…the leader of the gods, I suppose you’d say. At first, he refused to intervene, but Demeter, in her sorrow, let crops wither and die, the sun retreating and the world going cold.”
There was a scratch to his voice that I liked almost as much as the story, and when he reached up to feed me another bite of pomegranate seeds, I was too busy listening to tease him.
“So Zeus demanded that Hades, his brother, release Persephone. Now, no one can eat or drink in the Underworld and leave again. Persephone knew this, so she never took any of the food Hades offered her. It wasn’t until she was able to leave that Hades offered her a pomegranate. She ate three seeds and sealed her fate. Now she has to spend half the year in the Underworld and half the year with her mother.” Auguste wiped his hand, dripping the red juice of the pomegranate, on the apron. “He tricked her.”
I scoffed. “No, he didn’t.”
Auguste looked up at me, eyes widening. “She thought she was free to leave,” he explained. I scoffed, and Auguste blinked and shrugged, “It’s…it’s just a story.”
“No, it’s—I don’t think he tricked her. I think he gave her a choice,” I said.
His eyebrows raised at that. “How do you mean?”
“The story is missing a part in the middle. The part where Persephone was looking back at Hades through that riverbed,” I said, and Auguste’s eyebrows went up a little farther. I leaned into his space. “I think she ate those seeds knowing exactly what it would mean. He asked her to stay with those seeds, and once she knew that it was up to her, she chose him too.”
His surprise softened into a delighted smile.
“May I have another chocolate?” I asked.