Meg had a problem. An adorable, sexy, altogether too sweet problem.
As a reward for her service, Nyx had gifted Dusa a body, crafted specially to Dusa’s wishes. And of course, Dusa had wished for a body that drove Meg insane. Naturally, she remained entirely oblivious to Meg’s gaze.
Easily a foot shorter than Meg, everything about her was round, soft to Meg’s sharp edges. Meg dreamt of grabbing hold of her hips, rubbing her shoulders, and, darkness help her, holding Dusa’s hands.
Meg had tasks to accomplish, even more so with Zagreus becoming an escape artist, but it was beyond difficult to focus when her head was completely full of Dusa.
It was ridiculous! Dusa was just supposed to be a friend, the sister she never had. Yet Meg could not stop thinking about being held in her soft, strong arms.
This was what she blamed being sent back to the pool of Styx on. Her distracted mind.
Meg flicked her arms, ridding them of the red water. She reached up and wrung her hair as dry as she could, watching the water splash back into the pool.
“Megaera! I wasn’t expecting you back!”
Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear. And, in this case, the devil is an adorable gorgon that set Meg’s heart racing.
Dusa stood over the pool of Styx with a soft, fluffy towel in her hands. One of her snakes still clutched her feather duster, idle for the time being.
“Zagreus got the better of me.” Meg replied, allowing a note of pride to enter her voice. She hated losing, but losing to Zagreus was getting less and less insulting.
In a way, it was like she was training him.
Hesitantly, Meg took the towel from Dusa’s hands, running it over her face and arms. Dusa’s eyes locked onto every movement. Was Meg incorrect in assuming that this silly little crush of hers was mutual?
“Well, you’ll get him next time! You’re too strong not to!”
Everything Dusa said had a pesky way of flustering Meg beyond belief. Her face heated, though mercifully, it didn’t seem Dusa noticed.
“Thanks for the confidence, Dusa.” She murmured, keeping her eyes averted from Dusa’s.
“Of course, Megaera!”
“You can just call me Meg.”
Meg chanced a look back at Dusa’s face only to find her expression one of surprise. Her unbearably tempting mouth slightly agape, her dazzling eyes wide open.
“Are you sure?” She asked, slightly tripping over her words. Meg couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Meg wanted to hear her name on Dusa’s tongue as often as possible. It sounded like the most wonderful name in the world if she was saying it.
“Alright, M-M-M-Meg!” She stammered, before dashing away as fast as she could manage. It would have been no problem to catch up to her, but Meg’s own knees were giving out.
She managed to stumble over to the unused couch Zagreus purchased for Hypnos, sitting heavily down on the soft cushions. Hypnos tutted at her behavior, lightly.
“Oh, Megaera,” he cooed, staring down at her. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
“It’s just temporary.” She grumbled, resisting every urge she felt to smack him.
Hypnos chuckled, scribbling away with his pen. A quick peak to his sheet showed doodles of flowers and a few of what she assumed to be Cerberus. It proved Thanatos’s suspicions to a degree.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Meg was relieved for the moment’s rest, Alecto sent to take care of Zagreus this time. For the moment, she could relax in the lounge with a cold drink and the gentle sounds of Orpheus’s music drifting in from the main hall.
The scents of the House never truly faded, though they had become a bit more floral since the queen’s return. But everywhere she went, no smell could overpower Dusa’s soft, alluring smell. Like honeyed apples and rain, from what she could remember of her trips to the over world.
Everywhere Meg went, she could always pick out Dusa’s distinct scent. Her heart constantly thrummed in her chest whenever she caught it. It seemed to only worsen after Dusa received her physical form.
Everything about her seemed to worsen in Meg’s eyes. The intensity of her scent, the width of her smile, the way Meg’s eyes were drawn to her...all significantly worse.
And when Dusa strode into the almost entirely empty lounge, Meg noticed immediately.
Her hands wrung together, a slight pace to her step, her teeth worrying against her lip; Meg’s concern is what drew her out of her ogling - and she would forever deny that that was what it was.
Meg stood from her seat and took gentle steps towards Dusa, though it appeared that the gorgon didn’t notice her approach.
“Dusa?” She called, softly. Dusa shrieked, startling. Meg held up her hands, placatingly. “It’s only me. What’s wrong?”
Dusa worried further at her lip. If she kept going, she would bleed. At the very least, her hand wringing paused as she looked up at Meg.
Something burned in her eyes, something Meg couldn’t identify. If she were to guess, she’d say it was courage.
“Meg! I don’t feel like your sister! And I don’t want to be!” Dusa exclaimed, suddenly, her hands balling into fists. “I don’t want to be your friend, either!”
The first admission served only to confuse Meg, but the second one stung. Even after countless blows from Stygius, Meg hadn’t known such a pain. She could barely breathe.
“Oh.” Was all she murmured. But Dusa wasn’t done.
She said nothing else, grabbing the fabric of Meg’s clothes and pulling her down.
The way their lips collided was nothing romantic, and certainly nothing soft. It more resembled a bashing than a kiss, but Meg would have been the last person to complain.
Meg moved in to deepen the kiss, but Dusa pulled away, her face visibly red.
“Okay! That was it!”
She bustled away. Meg touched her fingers to her lips in awe, the skin still tingling.
This time, she followed after Dusa. They had to continue this.
Perhaps not so temporary feelings after all.