Hades had far more shades than any color one puts on a pallette. Hades can be sweet, all romantic in one moment, and a psychotic sadist the very next. Despite my protest, he tied me up. My eyes were fixed on his face, my eyes teary, though I was no longer crying. If anything, I was staring at him, with my eyes filled with pain. I made sure he saw that I was hurt. Because I was hurt.
He placed my feet on his lap, taking the antiseptic out before dipping the large cotton ball in it to clean my wounds. It hurt me. But never even once did I hiss as he cleaned my injured heel. He was staring at me, with his worried eyes. He looked remorseful. Guilty. He was guilty of tying me down. And he should be. He was taking away my human rights of being able to move freely.
"I don't like this either, L
