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A s Charles Rowland had said many times before; He hadn’t paid much attention in school.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried, Charles had found a lot of the subjects interesting enough. He found history exciting, full of grand battles and often tall tales of romance, yet when he was supposed to be listening to a lecture; his mind would wind up anywhere else.
He thought of Star Wars, of Ska, Hell, Charles even thought of Pac-Man if he was bored enough. Nothing had ever quite caught his attention like his own imagination had and yet there was a lecture, not long before he died that captured his thoughts unlike any class had prior.
His English professor had arranged a joint lecture with his history professor for an hour-long class on Greek Mythology. When he and his mates (soon-to-be murderers but Charles is choosing not to dwell on that bit) had originally walked into the lecture hall; they were all prepared to be bored out of their minds for the next hour block at least.
To Charles’ own credit, he really had tried to pay attention for the first half of the lecture before he finally gave in and let his mind wander to more pleasant places. It wasn’t until some kid in the third row called out “Wait so this bloke wanted to shag his own niece?” that Charles finally ripped his gaze from the window.
While this subject matter was taboo, it was also shocking for Charles; they rarely spoke about anything so scandalous at St. Hilarion’s and he couldn’t stop himself from tuning back into the lecture.
His history professor, an uptight middle-aged woman who seemed to have a mysterious soft spot for Charles, glared at the third row with an icy intensity that Charles was sure would freeze its recipient to the bone.
She turned just slightly back to the board before speaking “Mr. Mcdorman, If you had been paying attention to the previous tales; You would know such themes are commonplace in Greek mythology.”
That had been enough for Charles to stay tuned in and he had been completely enthralled by the tale of two deities; Hades and Persephone.
According to his professors, there were many variations of this tale; In some, Persephone went to the underworld willingly and in others Hades kidnapped or lured her there, tricking her to remain there forever.
“In most mythos” She began, “Hades is actually painted as the kindest in the Pantheon, it wasn’t until the rise of Christianity that he began to take on villain-like qualities.”
Murmurs swept through the room and Charles was surprised to realize he was the only one sitting silent in his awe. St. Hilarion’s was a Catholic School and this kind of lecture felt a lot more like heresy than anything else.
Charles wanted to hear more, a lot more.
“-While there are many tales regarding Persephone’s kidnapping and subsequent rescue; we’d like to focus on the version that we here at Saint Hilarion’s like best.” His English professor cut in, the man's voice a false kind of cheerful.
Beside him, his history professor nodded almost agitatedly “Yes, yes, We’ll be focusing on the version in which Persephone learned to love Hades over time and how it connects to other Greek tales of the age.”
That lecture was thirty years ago and Charles still remembers every single word.
Now, as Charles sits on the roof outside The Tongue and Tail Butcher Shop; He can’t help but replay the whole lesson over and over. It felt used and dull, too much like his favorite records he knew he had overplayed one too many times.
For the first sixteen years of Charles’ life; He had felt nothing but worthless. There had never been a day that he felt like he had earned something, that he was worth something. No matter how many trophies he brought home, no matter how well he did on a test; His father made it beyond clear he was a disappointment.
Sometimes it had felt like the very fact that he was still breathing had been disappointing to his father. He knew there was nothing he could possibly do to earn his father’s approval, he knew there would never be a gentle pat on the back or a cheerful ‘Well done, Charles’ and for the most part; he was fine with that.
His mother, She had been generous with her compliments in private; always quick to tell him that he’s done a good job or tell him how good of a son he was after he had taken a beating or two. Yet, when it counted, in front of his father or in public; She was always silent.
Charles truly never knew what it was like to have someone proud of him and he most definitely never knew what it was like to truly feel loved without any reservations. He was used to being loved privately, being cared for in a secret and shameful kind of way.
He had always assumed he couldn’t really be loved truly.
Now, the best person he knows has professed his love to him on the stairway out of bloody hell of all places and Charles wasn’t quite sure he deserved it. He couldn’t help but think of that lecture again after all this time, maybe he was the Hades in this situation?
Had he tricked Edwin into loving him?
Has he been training him this whole time to return his feelings or was this some kind of hero worship for rescuing him from hell? Maybe it was even some kind of misplaced loyalty?
It had never been a question of if Charles loved Edwin in return, he had loved the Edwardian boy since the day they met. The true question was if Charles had ever been deserving of Edwin’s love in return?
Hades had tricked Persephone into eating those pomegranate seeds so easily and Charles feels sick at the thought. He couldn’t stand to be the one who manipulated Edwin into a situation he had never actually wanted.
His teachers, all those years ago, had said that Persephone had learned to love Hades over time; Is that what had happened to Edwin?
What had changed?
If he thought he was terrified at the possibility of having manipulated Edwin into loving him or worse trapping him in a relationship he had never wished for to begin with; then Charles wasn’t prepared for the counterargument that slowly crept into his mind.
What if Edwin loved him for him?
What if Edwin had loved him since the day they met too?
What if they weren't Hades and Persephone but a couple much more steeped in tragedy?
What if all along, Charles had painted himself as a villain, much like Christianity had done to Hades when this whole time he had been much more akin to Orpheus than he ever had been to the god of the Underworld?
Perhaps, there was hope after all, Charles thought as he listened to Edwin’s quiet steps as he phased through the wall and onto the roof behind him.
Maybe just maybe, he could be loved too.