Michael startles awake. The room is pitch black, only the white light from the full moon outside shining through the windows, glancing off the furniture in the room. It is the middle of the night. For a moment, he doesn't know where he is, and then a sinking feeling settles in his stomach as he recognizes the living room of his childhood home. Everything looks familiar, yet different, like he is seeing it from a foreigner's eyes.

He wonders for a moment if it was his mother that woke him. He remembers as a child he would never sleep through a full night, woken up by his mother's delirious mumbles and scuffled footsteps brushing the hardwood floors outside his room. He'd have to get up and lead her back to bed, assuring her that everything is fine and will be fine when she wakes up again in the morning.

But there is no noise. No footsteps or voices.

Michael is about to lay his head back down on the couch cushion when he notices a black shadow in the corner of the room, tall and slim, and completely still. A yelp gets buried in his throat. His thoughts spike to the monsters that have been following them throughout the short journey to his home–– one even managed to materialize right on the lawn when they arrived. He thinks about crying out for one of the boys, for help. He's about to call Luke's name when the shadow moves.

"Michael," it says, in a velvety smooth voice that cuddles into his veins like honey. He blinks through the thick darkness in the room, and slowly, the figure moves forward, materializing into a woman.

She is astonishingly beautiful, so striking it almost hurts. She is pale and elegant, long, willowy limbs with skin that shimmers under the moon's glow. She's dressed in a long, pink gown, pale as the blush on her cheeks. The dress is dropped all the way past her ankles, smooth fabric pooling around her feet. Fabric is draped over thin shoulders, a tumble of brunette hair falling all the way to her hips in tangled, effortless waves. The moment Michael sees her–– feels her, his heart begins to ache painfully.

Michael understands at once who it is, as his hand comes to press against his chest, an effort to slow his heart. "Aphrodite," he whispers.

"Michael," she said, sweetly, deep brown eyes twinkling. Michael has never been visited by a god or goddess before, apart from Hades and Persephone. Michael nervously runs a hair through his shock of black hair in an effort to straighten himself up, but taming his hair is an effort rarely accomplished successfully.

Aphrodite steps forward and settles herself down onto the couch beside him. She smells like fresh roses. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Not a clue," Michael practically squeaks.

Aphrodite gazes at him with the kind of love a mother has looking at her child, endearing. "I cannot imagine what it is like to be a child of the Underworld. I understand that this has given you strife in your life, has it not?"

Michael's pride boils, just a little. "I'm proud to be a son of Hades," he says.

Aphrodite chuckles. "I know, child. You should be. But not everyone views each half-blood with understanding and equality."

Michael stares at his hands, and he thinks of the three boys when he brought them to the Underworld to meet his father. He remembers their faces, aghast and distraught, noses wrinkled as they surveyed the coursing river and black walls of stone that welcome the entrance. He remembers their disbelief when he played with Cerberus, his three-headed dog and only childhood friend.

"I know," Michael says quietly. Then he remembers something. "But... how are you here right now? The contact between our world has been destroyed."

Aphrodite smiles. "You and your friends have bought us some time. They know that you four are fighting. They've weakened, just a little bit. Enough for me to be here for a couple minutes."

Michael breaths out a sigh. So they're on the right track. And being on the right track means he's one step closer to saving Persephone.

"Listen," Aphrodite begins. "This journey that you are taking is going to be a difficult one. I came to you tonight because I can feel your heart hurting. And to survive this mission and save Persephone, you are going to need to be strong."

Michael stiffens. "I am strong. I'm probably more powerful than any of the other three boys."

Aphrodite laughs, a tinkling, light sound. "Oh, yes, I know. We all saw your trick you do with the darkness. I've never seen three boys look so scared in their lives.

"However..." Aphrodite takes a rose from her pocket, petals fresh and dotted with dew, and tucked it behind Michael's ear. "Even the strongest can have hearts that hurt, too."

Michael touches the new flower behind his ear. His other one had fallen out somewhere along the journey. The rose is brilliant red, but with a yellow center, and the petals fade into pink as they stretch to the center. It isn't just any rose, Michael realizes.

"You know my mother?" Michael asks, heart beginning to ache again.

"Of course," says Aphrodite. "Who do you think gives me my flowers?" She gestures to the little roses, barely visible, blossoming from every crease in her dress.

Michael's breath stills in his lungs. He touches the flower behind his ear carefully, not wanting to do anything to make it wilt.

"I'm the goddess of love, Michael," Aphrodite says gently. "I can feel you hurting. You have a guard up over your heart. I've been waiting for a while to see if you will let it down, but... you seem very intent on keeping it up."

Michael looks away, and mumbles, "Life hasn't exactly been easy, Aphrodite."

Aphrodite smiles. "It never is, love. But sometimes accepting your own emotions can make it easier. Your heart can handle it, I promise you."

Michael realizes where the conversation is going, and his cheeks flush. He averts his eyes, feeling like he's having an embarrassing conversation with a parent. "I actually don't really like girls that way, Aphrodite."

Unexpectedly, Aphrodite laughs. It is a high sound, almost palpable, shimmering in the air. "You must not be foolish enough to believe love is that simple." She presses a finger, adorned by a pink nail, into his chest. Michael startles. "I think there might be someone even in this house that you have feelings for."

Instantly, Michael's mind flits to Luke. He pictures his thick blonde hair, always falling into those bright blue eyes. He pictures his golden skin, browned by being out in the sun, a deadly contrast to Michael's translucent pale skin. He sees the ring caught in his pink bottom lip, the memory of his smile when the sea returned him to the other boys, his thin white shirt sticking to his body from the water.

Michael looked back at Aphrodite, who nodded. "Yes."

Michael shook his head, pushing off the couch. "No," he whispers fiercely, not wanting to wake up the others. "I don't have feelings for Luke. And even if I did, I saw the way he looked at me when we were in the Underworld. He would never... he would never think of me like that."

Aphrodite sighs, tilting her head. "Regardless, you have to accept how you feel. I know you're hurting, and you have every right to be. But love can be a great healer when hurt."

Michael looks down the hall. "It can also cause hurt."

Aphrodite stands up, her dress flowing. "Just trust me. I'm afraid I can't stay much longer... they're strong, Arachne's group. Be brave, child."

Aphrodite is gone when Michael blinks. The room is still dark, but Michael is almost relieved. The dark is where he's most comfortable. He blends in.

Michael doesn't want to think about what Aphrodite said, but he can still feel his heart aching, yearning. It pulls him, tugging in the direction of the hallway. Michael swore under his breath, feeling betrayed by his own heart. He can't allow himself to feel. He knows it will only end in hurt. And there is no way that Luke actually would feel the same...

Michael is standing before he realizes he's doing it. Slowly, he creeps through the dark toward the hallway, where Luke's temporary bedroom is. His breath catches in his throat as he stands outside of his room, completely silent. He places his hand on the doorknob.

Just as quickly, Michael pulls back his hand. He shakes his head and hurries back to the living room. What was he thinking? That he would go in Luke's bedroom and confess his feelings and Luke would reciprocate? Foolish.

In the other room, Michael's mother stirred.

Aphrodite was wrong. In his experience, love has only ever brought pain.

---
A/N: hey my loves

quarantine is really somethin aint it

have you guys heard that 1d is planning something for their 10 year anniversary??? I stg if is not a reunion tour I am suing modest myself

anyway do you guys have any pets??

I have a yorkie but I want some big dogs once I have my own place. I'm moving into a house next year with some friends but they have a no-pet policy :(

anyway enjoy! I love you all to the moon

bye