Mt Etna

[aphros_born]

The goddess is sitting, cross-legged, in a patch of shifting sunshine that creates ever-changing highlights of liquid gold in her (flame) red hair. The afore-mentioned hair falls past her face, as her head is bent forward in concentration on something she holds between her slender, talented fingers. Not talented for this sort of work, though. A

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[forge_fire]

He's still working on the spoon-snake, a little treat for himself really as the creatures become his very own companion. The snake himself, however, is impatient and doesn't seem to understand why he's being covered in flecks of emerald and gold and obsidian. Heph, however, has got him soothed well enough that he's more than half done doing just that.

He sits in the outer area of the workshop, the inner sections closest to the magma flows where he works in the forge. This part looks more like a tinkers shop.

[aphros_born]

Aphrodite enters the forge cautiously, soft little feet tracing a careful path around the implements and benches and accoutrements of her husbands trade. Her gaze pauses curiously at various half-finished projects, but really, she has eyes only for Hephaestos. She pauses, before she is really in his line of sight, just to watch him work, bow-lips curving fondly.

[forge_fire]

He notices her.

He can't not notice her, as her presence brings a freshness to the air of the room, a faintly sweet smell that has him breathing in deeper and tempting his eyes to close. He looks up from his work, one hand smoothing down the back of the snake to make sure he doesn't slither up around Hephaestos' arm, before giving her a warm smile.

[aphros_born]

"Hello," she says, voice roughened a little as always but her eyes full of more than just lust - need, rather, and for all of him. She's nervous, though, here in this place which is his, and she shoves her hands into her pockets to save from doing anything less decorous, like twisting her fingers together. Or reaching out for him.

[forge_fire]

He bows his head in greeting and smiles once more, hoping to put her at her ease a little, perhaps. He pulls one hand from his work to beckon her over.

[aphros_born]

Her smile widens, and she makes her way closer, pulling a soft, white little hand out of her pocket and slipping it into his work-roughened one without a thought. The gesture surprises her as soon as it's completed, but she doesn't go to pull her hand away - rather, she smooths her thumb gently across the pulse point at his wrist.

[forge_fire]

And he shivers, even if he'll never be cold, and almost tugs her closer before remembering his manners. He almost blushes, looking up at her shyly before pulling a little more gently for her to take a seat with him.

[aphros_born]

They are both of the 'remembering their manners', as she takes a seat on the bench next to him, rather than following her natural impulse to slip into his lap. She is sitting close, though, her thigh pressed against his, body-heat talking to body heat, and she leans just a little into his side.

[forge_fire]

"What brings you?"

His own voice is rough, from misuse and from it's nature. It is the sound of hammers, the shift of magma, the hiss of flames.

[aphros_born]

Rough like his hands, and it can make her shiver the same way that his hands can, the slight movement invisible, but tangible where they're pressed together.

"I can't simply wish for your company?" She asks, tone light and teasing.

[forge_fire]

Another faint blush.

"Of course."

She's welcome to come whenever she wishes, only that she usually doesn't. Or didn't for quite some time.

"You're always welcome here."

[aphros_born]

"I had an ulterior motive," She confesses, her own pale cheeks colouring. Teeth sink once again into that much-abused lower lip.

[forge_fire]

He blinks for a moment before looking... disappointed.

"What do you need then? I'll have it done... by dinner."

[aphros_born]

"Nothing," she says, trying, and failing, to keep the hurt out of her voice, because she knows only too well how much cause, and for how long, she has given him to expect that of her.

"I brought you a gift."

[forge_fire]

Another blink. And surprised. And... he can't even help the warmth that floods out around them. He's too pleased and too surprised both at once to help it.

"Oh."

A small, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry."

[aphros_born]

She leans into the warmth as if it were his arms - which in a way, it is, at least, it is as much a part of him as his body is - and closes her eyes for a second.

"So am I."

It is an apology not for the moment, but for the past, and smiles again as soon as she has spoken, happy again.

"But you have to close your eyes."