Chapter Text
Already it was far too cold. It should have been early Autumn- brisk in the morning, a preview of coming attractions, but with the warmth of summer lingering in the afternoon. Yet Orpheus could swear he saw a thin film of frost on the fallen leaves as he walked deeper into the woods. Of course, that was the way the world was. Persephone had come and been taken too soon, taking the warmer weather with her and leaving only memories in its place.
For Orpheus, the memories of Summer burned bright and warm. Almost warm enough to ignore the cold altogether, he thought, even as he drew his jacket closer against the wind. He and Eurydice had spent day after day in these woods this past Summer, his happiest Summer in recent memory.
Perhaps that was why he had come here today. Maybe the memories allowed him a deeper connection to his work. Or maybe the smallness of the studio apartment he shared with Eurydice had finally become too confining, though normally Orpheus could work on his song for hours without noticing the world around him, completely lost in the music, the possibilities of it all. However, he did not dwell on it for long. He was here; he had a song to write. That was what mattered.
And so he worked. He worked up until a brief glance at his watch informed him that it was time to leave for his shift at Hermes’. The watch had originally belonged to Eurydice, but she’d given it to him after he’d been late to work one too many times. She tried to brush it off as a practicality, but Orpheus knew it must have meant a lot to give it up-she held onto her possessions so tightly.
As he gathered up his things, something caught his eye, something red and bright against the dark green of the bushes. He couldn’t help but grin. Berries. Something fresh and alive even as dead leaves fell from the trees. Eurydice was going to love this. He’d seen the way her brow furrowed as she opened empty pantry doors and haggled over fruit at the market, and it hurt him that he couldn’t fix it for her. All he had were his songs.
This here though: this was a start.
Hermes’ restaurant seemed busier than usual, Eurydice noted from behind the bar. But maybe that was to be expected this time of year. The were close to the train tracks and everybody was trying to find somewhere warmer to go before the cold weather set in. In years past, she would have been one of them.
It was an odd feeling, being on the other side after years of jumping from place to place.
It feels wrong.
She pushed the thought away and focused on making small talk with customers as she took their orders and made their drinks, all the while looking out of the corner of her eye for a glimpse of Orpheus.
They hadn’t had much time together today. He’d been gone when she woke up, a hastily written note left on his pillow: something about the woods. Eurydice often wondered how somehow who sang such beautiful words could have such terrible handwriting. They’d spoken briefly when he arrived for his shift, five minutes late, red cheeked and slightly breathless from the cold. He was excited about something,
“I have a surprise for you; at home” is all he would say when Eurydice pressed him for details. This was not uncommon. It seemed any time Orpheus went into the woods he brought back a surprise for Eurydice: flowers he’d found, a fallen feather from a bird- just things he’d thought she would enjoy.
She smiled; his energy was contagious. “Okay.”
There hadn’t been time to speak since. And so, glimpses across the bar it was. Orpheus even managed to make bussing tables look like it was the best job in the world. But as the shift went on, these glimpses became less and less frequent, though the number of tables that needed bussing remained the same.
Something was wrong.
No, it wasn’t. It was the weekend; Orpheus had a show to prepare for. Except that the first set wasn’t for another few hours. It wouldn’t have taken him that long to set up, and while it was true Orpheus often lived in his own world, it wasn’t like him to just abandon his work.
Something was wrong.
As if on cue, Atropos approached the bar. It took everything in Eurydice’s power not to scowl.
Atropos, Clotho, Lachesis. Three nosy sisters who seemed to know everything that was going on in this town. Sometimes it felt like they were peering straight into her soul. Orpheus said they’d worked here for as long as he could remember, but Eurydice would have sworn on her own life that she’d seen them before, in other towns, other places. In any case, she found them insufferable, and they found her much the same.
Atropos did not bother with formalities. “Your partner’s hiding out in the back. You’d better figure out what’s wrong. Wouldn’t want someone to accuse him of slacking off.”
“Cover me here, and I will,” Eurydice replied, her face straight, though warning bells were going off in her head. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
She expected pushback from Atropos, but the other simply shrugged, and took her place, adding “Oh, and Eurydice… tell him to get back to work. We’re short-staffed today.”
Eurydice didn’t like how she smiled as she said it, as if she knew something Eurydice didn’t.
As promised, she found him outside, slumped against the outside of the walk-in freezer, head in his hands. Her heart dropped further. Something was wrong.
She slid down next to him, what she hoped was a comforting smile on her face. “Hey, what’s going on?”
He startled at the sound of her voice, and Eurydice felt a twinge of guilt that she’d caught him off guard. However, his confusion quickly gave way to a smile, though she was quick to notice that his eyes looked worried. “Eurydice!”
“What’s going on?” She repeated. “Atropos told me you were hiding out here. That’s not like you.”
His smile faded “Nothing… I just needed a moment.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer.
Eurydice put her hands on her hips. “Orpheus… you’re doing that thing where you don’t speak because you’re afraid you’ll worry me. Don’t. I’m not breakable.”
“I… I don’t feel right,” he finally admitted, avoiding her gaze. His words were slow, as if he were choosing them carefully, trying to cushion a blow. “My stomach, the smell of food… I had to get out.”
“Oh Orpheus,” Eurydice said quietly, her expression softening. “I’m sorry.”
She placed a hand on his forehead but was unable to decipher if he felt feverish or not. Anyone’s skin felt warm when it was fifty-five degrees out. She thought his face looked flushed, but could that be because of the wind? There was a sinking feeling within her as she realized she’d never had to do this before; had never been with anyone long enough to see them sick. And she didn’t know what to do next.
She settled on practicality. “If you’re not feeling well, you should go home. We’ll talk to Hermes- he’ll understand.”
To her surprise, Orpheus shook his head. “I can’t. The show tonight- there’s no replacement. Mr. Hermes needs me.”
And we need the tips. Eurydice’s mind filled in the rest. Hermes paid them as fairly as he could, but it still wasn’t enough, and the tips from Orpheus’s performances barely filled the gaps. She hated that that was her first thought.
“Okay then. Fine. It’s up to you.” She sounded more annoyed than she intended and she wanted to take the words back immediately, but there was the sound of heels clicking on the concrete and suddenly Lachesis was among them, making it clear that there was no further time for discussion- tables were piling up and Atropos was tired of covering for Eurydice.
“I just needed fresh air; I feel better already,” Orpheus whispered to her as they followed Lachesis back inside, but it didn’t escape Eurydice the way he’d wobbled slightly when he stood up, the way he grimaced and pressed a hand to his stomach when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Eurydice didn’t pray to the gods, but she did at that moment. She had a feeling the wind was about to change.