phonos + meli

[unbiaseddeath]

Who: Phonos & Melinoe
Where: Helenus' apartment building
When: afternoon idk
What: Hades sends Phonos to retrieve Melinoe; he interrupts her hanging with Helenus and then they get stuck in an elevator

Phonos didn't mind being Hades' errand boy on occasion. He was generally devoid of other activities that held his interest and work had been slower with the winter season. It was amusing in its own way that the number of homicides decreased with the bad weather, as if people were too lazy to do their murder in the cold. He'd been making efforts to improve the seasonal Slaughter, but thus far his luck had been rather poor. Which left him plenty of time to do as Hades asked.

It certainly didn't bother him to be asked to fetch Melinoe for whatever private, family business Hades desired. He found himself uncomfortable, however, with the realization that she was currently alone with Helenus in his apartment, spending more quality time together. The two had been increasingly close lately and it annoyed Phonos that she could be so flippant and juvenile. Or so he told himself. She was better than that.

Stepping from the elevator, the man made his way down the hall until he came to Helenus' door. Without hesitation or reservation, he pounded a few times on the door. When Helenus opened, he immediately met the man's gaze with a cold and dead stare. "Hades has requested Melinoe's presence at home. I was sent to retrieve her."

He ignored the man's questioning and protests, looking past him to the woman who always confused him. Confused Murder, who should not be capable of such feelings. "Melinoe."

Comments

[meli_mollifies]

Melinoe does not expect his arms to slide around her shoulders so easily, even after the brief hesitation. Why should she be so surprised by this? Every other thing about the past half-hour (her best guess, give or take some minutes) had been entirely unexpected, so how does this moment differ from the rest?

Because you fit so easily here.

You shouldn’t, but you do.

Makaria is almost certainly better for him, isn’t she?

“Dinner,” she repeats in a soft murmur, turning her face so that she might press her lips to his bare chest, if only briefly enough to try and rid her mindspeak of the doubt that creeps in almost seamlessly, and she tries ever so hard to keep the rest of her thoughts concentrated on him. “Yes, of course. Where should we have our meal?” Melinoe’s blue gaze lifts to meet that of Phonos, wondering yet again how they found themselves in such a state: Excited beyond measure as they hold onto each other for what seems like dear life, and equally terrified of the entire thing. The where does not necessarily matter so much, but the discussion does. The lack of too much distraction may be beneficial in this circumstance.

[unbiaseddeath]

The feel of her lips on his chest loosens something within Phonos, snaps him either into insanity or back into the reality he believed lost to him. His arms withdraw from around her and, instead, he takes her shoulders very firmly in his hands. He moves back a hint and pushes her an equal distance to create some small space between them, assuming she'll allow him to. If she resists, he'll only try harder to move himself instead.

"I am no hero. I have no soft heart. You know this, Melinoe. If you should still offer your affections, then you must be aware of what I am." He peers down at her, through her, into her thoughts and mind and whatever he can see in this woman he has feelings for, emotions he dare not give name to.

"I cannot be your.. boyfriend." He makes a face at that, one of slight disgust. The concept is so grossly human to him. While the Gods may have their counterparts, he has a hard time envisioning Hades dating. He would not demean himself - nor her - so much as to play at romance. That said.

He leans down to kiss her again, his lips tender upon hers while his hands still grip her shoulders like vices.

"You will choose the restaurant and the time which is most convenient for you. I will meet-" Phonos is about to say more when there's a loud grinding noise, as if the elevator may begin working again, cutting off his thoughts.

[meli_mollifies]

Ah. There he is. The Phonos who had come to retrieve her from Helenus’ apartment and whom she had decided needed to address his human side. Still, he is gentle in his retreat, firm as though his grip may be, and she allows for him to put the space between them—or at least as far as the wall of the box would allow. “I know well what you are,” she says, meeting that stare with her own, albeit less distant. “and I would not ask you to do such a thing that you would not desire.” Melinoe’s brow had arched at the ‘boyfriend’ term. It reminded her of her mother’s relationship with Adonis, whom she could not care less for. She would not bring further comment about a soft heart, for she is certain that discussion would lead to nowhere, and in a hurry.

But he kisses her again, and that she will allow him (not that she would find it terribly difficult to deny him much of anything, truth be told). Meli would be a liar if she denied that she had enjoyed every touch of his lips, every brush of his breath on her skin, though she almost wishes that he hadn’t done that very thing again. It served only to reignite the fire within that she had been trying to frantically extinguish. His quiet dominance in telling her how the restaurant would be picked does not help her inner predicament in the least, and the groan of the elevator coming back to life manages to at least put the thoughts traipsing around her mind on hold.

She can only nod as the elevator fan starts blowing again, and the thing jerks back to life to restart its journey to the original destination. “I will let you know,” is her response as she pulls away from his grasp on her shoulders to pick up her coat and purse from the floor of the elevator, briefly forgetting the fact that Phonos is currently the most exposed in a public space he’s ever been. His shirt remains unbuttoned, and gods only knew what people would consider about them being together in a stalled elevator, anyway.

“Your shirt, Phonos…”

[unbiaseddeath]

Melinoe speaks the precise words he needs to hear in the moment, as much obedient as obstinate. It's that unique combination in her that appeals to him so much, though he would rarely admit as much even to himself. He releases her the moment she withdraws from him, unmoving except to watch her retrieve her things. How can Killing admit to such pathetic and human despair and sense of loss at something so archaic and base as physical affection.

His expression darkens into a slight scowl at her response, his own thought unfinished. It will do. Then her reminder comes and he glances down, as if only now becoming aware that his shirt hangs wide open. His mind sparks with the memory of her fingers on his chest, her nails on his back, and it takes everything in him to face the doors rather than to submit again to his whims.

Phonos works slowly and deliberately to button his shirt again, surprised at how difficult the infantile action is when his mind is so wholly consumed with other thoughts and distractions. He's halfway done when the box dings and the doors slide open: to reveal a worried and suddenly confused Helenus.

Murder says nothing, only continuing in the action of clothing himself once more. He leaves it for Melinoe to explain if she will, curious as to what excuse or description she might offer her friend. There's a small, dark part of Phonos that takes joy in the man's witnessing of such insinuations. Perhaps he will learn his lesson now, that Melinoe is no longer his - or never was.

[meli_mollifies]

Helenus starts to stutter over his words in the attempt to ask if they were all right, eyeballing Melinoe first to see if she was in one piece, and then again at Phonos buttoning his shirt back up. Is that relief in his expression to note that she was still fully clothed and not entirely disheveled? But then the wheels seem to turn faster in his head, and Melinoe can almost pinpoint each potential situation that he considers. She holds up a hand and shakes her head as an indicator of what could be construed as both ‘don’t ask’ and ‘not right now’ before she walks with Phonos down the hall and to whatever business her father had decided he needed her for.

Part of her wondered if what had transpired in the elevator had only been a figment of her imagination. Was the more human part of Phonos coming through? He had shown some of a dominant side, and something that was more tender in a blink of an eye. Or was it naught but raw and undulated lust? Mortals had more of that in them than one might consider at first glance, but Melinoe would be wrong to speculate too much on it. He had become vulnerable in her presence, and she chose to take it as the gift that it felt like to her. To ask more of him or to assume he'd held her closer or tighter (oh, how wonderful it had felt) because he cares too much would be foolish.

After Hades had sent her off after their meeting, Melinoe had begun to consider restaurant options, none of which seemed appealing or appropriate for the situation at hand. Too many people within earshot, too many distractions. If she and Phonos were going to discuss a potential relationship, or even what had transpired that afternoon (it was difficult to not think about their closeness, or the touch of his kiss while she was talking to her family about whatever her father decided was worth discussing), it would have to be done without outside interference.

She calls him. As his voice travels through the receiver, she begins to speak. “Phonos. We are having dinner at my place tonight at eight.” There is no hesitation in her statement. There is a place and a time set as he had requested. Granted, it is not the restaurant that he had mentioned, but it was still a two out of three scenario.

[unbiaseddeath]

A pregnant pause greets the declaration. Phonos asked for a restaurant and a time. Melinoe is providing both in her own way, even if her apartment is not entirely what he had in mind. His thoughts can't help but drift back to their time in the elevator together, to her bed in her apartment, to what could happen if they should get carried away and succumb to temptation again. Part of him wants it, part of him knows to stay away from it.

"Very well," he offers finally, simply. He waits a beat for her to say more. When she doesn't, Murder simply hangs up the phone. Normally he would not be so curt, there would be goodbyes and patience. But his patience has been running thin since his blood was made to boil. Helenus' presence there was a gift, doing the most benefit to return him to his normal state of mind.

Phonos does his best to push the thoughts away, to focus on his work until the time. He succeeds quite well until he departs from his job. Then the spirit- the man has nothing left to do but think as he walks back to the apartment, as he showers and gets dressed. A pair of slacks, a dark gray button-down, a belt.

It's eight o'clock precisely when he knocks on Melinoe's door, bottle of dark syrah in hand. He has no intention of getting drunk again, but Phonos has learned enough of polite custom to offer a bottle of wine. It's the least he can do to act like this isn't a talk to end whatever this is before it begins.

Forgive the choppy. I wrote it at work. lol

[meli_mollifies]

Melinoe had yet to see Phonos not show up on time for anything, as methodical as he is and has to be. She offers a smile as the door is opened, even if it is not returned, revealing her in a dress of deep crimson, long-sleeves and falling just past her knees. While she does wear stockings, she remains barefoot, finding no need to wear shoes in her own home, even if she is having company. Her goal for both of them is to be comfortable, even though it seems more difficult than not to get him into such a state. The pleasant smell of herbs and roasted chicken waft out into the hall as she takes the moment to appreciate the form before her. Phonos is an incredibly handsome man, and it was rare for him to have anything out of place on his person… his current attire was impeccably him though there were times she’d thought he could grace the cover of any fashion magazine.

“Please come in,” she invites, pleased to take the bottle from him after she shuts the door. “I am glad that you came, Phonos.” And she sincerely means it. In truth, Meli had fully expected him to back out: He’d had time to think about everything that had transpired, and no doubt reiterate his intention of not being her ‘boyfriend’(she finds the term irritating), or continuing any relationship of that ilk. She would not press him further, though the elevator had obviously not been planned, to embrace the humanity he was so cruelly put into. She had tried, she had failed but for one brief moment in time in an elevator when she told him that she only wanted him to be.

She believes that she has been fair in allowing him what he had wanted of her: a working relationship with little else to account for it, and Melinoe is terribly unclear on how to proceed from this point after what had happened that afternoon. If he has little to no desire to have her for his own in terms of any relationship outside of their current standing, then he would need to move on from his jealousy when she sought other company than his.

She leads him further into her apartment. “I have made chicken piccata. I do hope you enjoy it.” Small talk. No sense in sitting in utter silence.

<3

[unbiaseddeath]

Phonos swallows and refuses to allow his eyes to wander from her face. The peripheral sight of what she's wearing is enough. He wonders if the crimson was an intentional choice, the color of blood gliding over her pale skin with a perfection few things can emulate. He stiffly offers the bottle, then glides forward past her as instructed, pausing not a full yard into the door and stopping there to turn and regard her. His expression is neutral, deliberately so, masking the extreme discomfort he feels - and the primal desire for her that seemingly continues to grow while he works to subconsciously beat it away.

"I said that I would come," he replies plainly. It's almost an insult to suggest he might not, even though he knows there's truth in the sentiment. Still, he follows her without complaint, eyes glancing about. He's seen her apartment on a handful of occasions before, but there's something new about it this time, unwanted notions of how and where they could engage in their base instincts flashing through his mind.

He forces his attention back to her and finds he's already frustrated, both sexually and with her endeavor at small talk. Murder can be remarkably patient at times; other times, he is immediate and without thought. Right now, he finds it difficult to be his normal self and all the more angry for it.

"Why here?" He asks, keeping his voice and expression even in spite of the myriad of moods and thoughts devouring him.

I almost posted this as another person. This would have been very awkward.

[meli_mollifies]

"Why not here?" Meli has ventured into the kitchen to make use of her corkscrew, only pausing in pursuit of uncorking the bottle as he asks her just why she had decided on her home. She glances over at first, and then proceeds in her task. His apprehension is palpable, and Melinoe cannot help but begin to question her choice. Without looking at him, she calmly winds the screw into the stopper. “Because I thought that with fewer distractions, we would actually have an opportunity to talk. No need to worry about waitstaff or whether or not the next table over has exceedingly loud children.”

She pulls the cork out with a mildly satisfying ‘pop’ before pausing, appearing as though she’s mulling something around to say. “That and those who follow me have a tendency to stay quiet or hide away when there are fewer people. And when you are with me.”

The subject is changed as she pulls down two wine glasses in addition to mentally kicking herself while she pours them each a measure. “Papa has mentioned that he would like to meet with you tomorrow. Something about a task he needs completed.” For Melinoe, it has always been more than the physical attraction with Phonos, but it was becoming very difficult for her to ignore such a primal sensation with him standing only a few feet away watching her move toward him to hand him his glass. "He did not specify a time."

lawl

[unbiaseddeath]

She's right in her thought process. It's logical, that they should be in a place where they can speak freely, with no need to give mind to those around them. Her thinking is entirely rational and still he resents her for it ever so slightly, meeting in her web instead of the safety of neutral ground. In public, Phonos would be unable to give in to any instincts. Here, they scream at him like the spirits seem to scream at her elsewhere. Even though he finds it distasteful, it makes sense, and that's the only reason he accepts it without further argument or complaint.

He watches her with a deeply intense stare, never glancing away from her as she opens the wine and sets about to pouring the drinks for them. When she approaches, he accepts one, very deliberately not touching her hand in order to do so. It's a subtle gesture, but important for him right now.

"Let us not speak of your father," he murmurs before taking a small sip of the wine. It's dry but flavorful, serving as only the mildest distraction from the way the dress settles on her curves. He should be above such things.

Phonos moves a step closer to Melinoe, directly in front of her without actually coming in contact, staring down at her. "Will it make you uncomfortable to continue our work together at the morgue?"

Brain jumble today. I apologiz for the delay and the not best tag. :/

[meli_mollifies]

His question gives her pause as she moves to sip from her glass. The thought had briefly crossed her mind that afternoon that if anything should transpire, then how would this affect their relationship, such as it is? Their daily lives at the morgue. Would he shut her out? Would he leave the morgue? Melinoe supposes in that regard that he would get the sort of relationship he claims he needs, but the words spoken in the elevator; the memory of each kiss and brush of fingers make it very difficult to provide such a relationship.

The kitchen timer beeps through the brief silence as she looks up at him, blue eyes wide. “No,” she answers. Her heart speeds its cadence at his closeness, not to mention his gaze that she knows far too well for her own good. “Only if I were made to feel uncomfortable.” She turns away from him, sitting her glass on the counter as she moves to turn off the timer and remove their dinner from the heat. “A better question, Phonos, is whether or not you will be made uncomfortable.” Because that is the last thing that she desires, only next to his never wanting anything to do with her again. "I do not desire such a circumstance."