“Spill.”
Thanatos frowned at her sleepily, already dressed in his signature black jacket, black shirt, and very faded, equally black jeans. He was rubbing the sleep out of his face despite the wet, inky hair that spilled out to his forehead telling Kath that he’d already showered before she knocked and did not, in fact, wake him up.
“Good morning to you, too.” He yawned as he closed his door behind him and led Kath down the hallway to where the stairs were. “You look awfully well-rested for someone who’s been —”
Kath shook her head, idly noting the other paintings that hung on the wall and wondering if Hades had painted these, too. “Uh-uh. Not going there. I’m not talking about that with you.”
A thick, dark brow was raised. “Really? We’re not going to talk about it? What, do you expect
