Page 126
Story: Hades’ Cursed Luna
Eve
I knew this design.
Knew it because I used to have one just like it.
My fingers brushed the soft fabric, and a strange, almost breathless laugh escaped me.
This was the same onesie I wore when I was nine—the one Ellen and I had begged our mother for during a winter market. We’d worn them for weeks, even after they became too small, refusing to let them go.
It felt like staring at a ghost.
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, gripping the edge of the onesie a little tighter to ground myself.
Behind me, Hades stepped closer, his gaze burning into the side of my face.
"That one?" His voice was quieter this time, less teasing.
I nodded, but I didn’t turn around. "Yeah. This one."
There was a long pause, heavy and unspoken.
I could feel him watching me, but he didn’t press.
After a few moments, I forced a smirk, shifting the onesie over my arm. "You’re going to hate it."
"I already do," Hades muttered, but there wasn’t much bite to his tone.
I glanced over my shoulder, catching the way his eyes softened—just slightly—as they flicked between me and the onesie in my arms.
"You’re not backing out now, are you?" I teased, raising a brow.
His smirk returned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I wouldn’t dream of it."
I nodded toward the rack. "Good. Because we still have five more to find." I tightened my grip on the fabric.
He caught the action, his eyes narrowing. "What’s wrong?" He asked, his gaze flickered from the onesie to my eyes. "Red?"
I quickly turned around. "Come on," I said lightly, brushing past him before he could pry any further.
But I felt his presence linger at my back, like a shadow that refused to be shaken off.
The boutique was vast, but the air between us felt smaller somehow. I kept moving, one hand steady on the soft fabric as I searched through racks of loungewear, hoping the distance would quell the sudden ache in my chest.
It didn’t.
Hades followed a few paces behind, as if he knew—knew that if he pressed too hard, I might shatter like glass.
His silence was louder than anything he could have said.
I hated that he noticed.
"Just five more?" he asked after a while, his voice cutting through the quiet. "I thought your would have preferred to torture me with more horrendous options to assassinate my honor with."
I smirked without turning around. "I’m feeling merciful."
"That’s a first."
I glanced at him over my shoulder, catching the faint flicker of humor in his eyes. His usual arrogance was still there, but something else lingered beneath it—something assertive, something knowing.
It was strange to see Hades like this. Relaxed wasn’t the right word, but the sharp edges he usually carried seemed dulled, as if the weight of the world he carried on his back had been lifted just for tonight.
I held up a particularly offensive onesie—a dragon, bright green with a tail that trailed to the floor—and raised a brow. "This one screams ’King of Lycans,’ don’t you think?"
He gave it a once-over, deadpan. "Absolutely. Nothing inspires fear like lime green and polyester wings and were not looking for unicorn onesies?"
I laughed, surprising even myself with how natural it felt. "Thought I should have a little more mercy."
Hades’ gaze lingered for a fraction of a second longer, and I felt it—like he was memorizing the sound.
I looked away first.
The boutique felt warm and familiar and as ridiculous as this errand was, part of me didn’t want it to end.
Because the moment it did, reality would come crashing back down.
And I wasn’t ready for that.
"Ellen."
I stiffened at the sound of his voice. Not because it was harsh, but because it wasn’t.
I turned slowly, meeting his gaze.
He wasn’t smiling anymore.
"What?" I tried to sound annoyed, but it came out softer than I intended.
Hades studied me, his silver eyes searching for something I didn’t want to give.
I gripped the dragon onesie tighter, bracing myself for whatever lecture he was about to throw at me.
But it never came.
Instead, he stepped forward, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him.
Then the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You know," he drawled, circling me like a predator stalking its prey, "I can’t imagine a world where lime green dragon onesie doesn’t scream sophistication."
I raised a brow, turning the garment toward him. "Oh, I’m sorry—were you hoping for something subtler? Perhaps in hot pink with sequins?"
He took a step closer, inspecting it with exaggerated thoughtfulness, his fingers grazing the fabric at my shoulder as if he was seriously considering it. "Tempting," he mused, "but I think the wings really sell it. They say ’fear me’… in the most endearing way possible."
I huffed out a breath of laughter, shaking my head. "Well, I think you’ll look adorable."
I caught the surprise in his eyes at my statement but with a blink his gaze had darkened playfully. "Careful, Red. I might take that as a challenge."
"Oh, I’m counting on it."
I moved to hang the dragon onesie over my arm, but before I could, he plucked it from my hands with that same effortless grace he always carried.
"What are you doing?" I asked, narrowing my eyes as he turned it this way and that.
"I’m helping you." His voice was too smooth, too innocent. "Clearly, your taste is questionable at best."
I crossed my arms, watching him parade the onesie like some kind of fashion critic.
"Questionable?" I echoed. "This coming from the guy who owns twelve black suits that are identical."
Hades flashed a sharp grin, holding the dragon onesie against his chest. "Twelve? I didn’t realize you’d been keeping such close tabs on me. Should I be flattered?"
I rolled my eyes. "You wear the same thing every day. It’s not exactly hard to figure out."
He held the onesie up higher, aligning the hood with his head as if imagining himself in it. "I’m just saying—if you’re going to humiliate me, at least make it memorable."
"Oh, I will," I shot back, snatching the onesie from his hands before he could make a bigger fool of himself.
The brief touch of his fingers against mine lingered longer than I expected, but I ignored it.
He stepped aside with exaggerated deference.
"By all means, continue your noble quest for the most ridiculous outfit.
" All the animosity seemly melted away and I could not help but feel that he only pulled out his sour mood because he had detected my own emotional duress.
If I did not know better, I would have thought that he was trying to cheer me up.
I couldn’t help but smile, shaking my head as I wandered towards the next rack. He had really improved in making jokes especially ones that I actually enjoyed.
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