One: 

A secret meadow.

Persephone knew mother nature like the back of her hand. If she closed her eyes, she could even feel the innocent joy a single rose would bring to a young maiden. A secret lover. A letter left on her doorstep. She could feel the misery of the young children, standing at the grave of the father they had just lost. Emptiness and sheer fear of the lives they would lead without him. She could grow and nurture greenery in all shapes and forms, its beauty unparalleled. She could raise a finger and a forest would flourish. Water will flow. Birds will sing.

Yet, there she stood in the middle of a meadow not of her own creation and that iself, was a miracle of its own. Upon barren land, nature had flourished. Wild flowers bloomed and graced the earth with beauty that rivalled her own. Persephone reaches down and slips a single tulip bud into her hair.  She sits down in the grass, her slim fingers grazing the leaves that collect around her.

She listens attentively, straining to hear what she had been trying so hard to find. Flowing water. Deer grazing. Or even the slush sound worms would make as they wriggle through the soil. She strains till her eyebrows are furrowed together and a visible vein pops out from her forehead. 

“I know you see me.”

Her blood runs cold. A dark figure stands by a tree, hand splayed out on its bark. It stood there and Persephone watches in horror as it turns to face in the direction where she was. A handsome face too dark and alluring. She sees his hand reach out into her direction, even though she was miles away. He smiles.

Run.

She tries to. She runs as fast as her legs can carry her, the tulip bud falling off from her head. Remorse does not even begin to describe what she felt, when she first stepped into the meadow. Her bare feet are cushioned by the grass that grows with her every step. The soil never touches her feet. She leaps into the trees, hoping that she would be hidden away. She desperately wishes for her mother to return. She should not have gone against her mother’s wishes to wander the Earth without her permission.

Persephone’s feet come to a stop, when she sees the large figure standing in her way. She realizes he is not a mortal. Obvious by the sight of a single patch of grass withering in milliseconds, where he stood. She stands rooted to the ground, entranced by the handsome God. The look on his chiselled face mirrors her surprise, bordering fascination.

“Jisoo.” The first time he calls her by her mortal name. 

She calls him by the name that has haunted her for a millenia. “Namjoon.”

He looks at her, as if searching for answers in his eyes. Jisoo is afraid to speak, lest her words put distance between them. He reaches out first, holding a single tulip bud in his palm. The bud is unharmed and its colors are as vibrant as the forest surrounding them. She takes the bud, slips it into her hair and gives him her warmest smile. 

Nothing in this world is as it seems, Jisoo learns. Hades is his name. 

He guides her through the forest as a good host should. He shows her the river where water is still and does not flow. He shows her the old trees that have once sheltered a gravestone from heavy rain and storm. He shows her the meadow of wild flowers, whose seeds had bloomed to grace a mortal’s coffin, or thrown into a fire to bless the deceased. Jisoo learns that there is a small tribe of mankind, who worship Hades, the King of the Underworld and plead for his mercy and a forgiving trip through the Nyx river. They bless him with many seeds, trees and flowers but animals of the most common or miniscule do not exist in Hades’ secret meadow. Persephone could not deny it; her charming yet reserved friend was the personification of death itself. 

He questions her about life. A topic so mysterious to him, yet the only thing Persephone knew. She tells him of her days with her mother, where she learns to tend to the wild forests and care for the animals in hibernation through the darkest of winters. She shows him how to braid a flower crown and what colors are best to accentuate her autumn brown hair. Hades was quiet and patient and would smile at her, even when she stumbles over her words. Or even as a rosy hue spreads through her pale cheeks, he gives her time to think before she explains very carefully the spells required to bloom a rose. 

Hades stared at the red rose in her palm. Persephone had shown him secrets that he should not know. He is well acquainted with her mother, but the young goddess seems unaware of this fact. 

“Will you tell me, who Jisoo is?” She finally asks. Her heart flutters as fast as the beat of a hummingbird’s wings.She hopes against all odds that Hades cannot hear it.

Hades could, and he solemnly answers. “A mortal who gives to the poor children. She marries into a wealthy family until her husband was sent to the war.”

Jisoo in a deep breath. The war. Humans were cruel and vile, greed was merely just one of the reasons that fuelled their wrath. Zeus had turned a blind eye, and the Gods followed suit. Persephone remembers the countless flowers thrown into graves. The countless deaths of not only man but mother nature as well.

“Her husband does not return and she has no money to give,”Hades continues but his lips widen into a smile. “The children in my care remember her name. They sing of her good deeds, and perhaps that is why you have been deemed most suitable to care for both man and this dying earth.”
 

Persephone holds her palms flat against her chest. She cannot find the words to answer him. 

Hades questions her. “Who is Namjoon?”
 

Persephone stares up at her host, eyelids fluttering. She looks away, hesitant to answer his question but knows that Hades has every right to remember his own memories. She lifts her hand to trace his cheekbone, graze the long bridge of his nose then come to cradle his cheek. Hades leans into her touch. Persephone tries her best not to flinch even when she feels how bitterly cold and lifeless his skin is. 

“Namjoon is a soldier who saves his comrades by bringing no gun to the battlefield,”Persephone answers him, and continues despite the confusion that flashes through Hades’ features. “He was shunned for refusing to carry a gun, but he is saviour to many and continued to fight in his own path. I believe he is one of the mortals who believes in Adam and Eve.”
 

Hades lets his eyelids fall close. “How peculiar this mortal is.”

“How indeed.” Persephone echoes as she stares up at the sky. It turns the colors of the sunset, with its orange hues fading to pink. 

Hades walks her to the stream where he found her. He sets the crown of flowers on top of her head and she looks at him questioningly. These flowers were not made by her hand.

“A gift,”Hades answers, “In return for your company.”

Persephone nods once and