Author's Note: So yes, I have decided to write my own version of the Eros and Psyche myth! And not to worry, I have not forgotten about Mera and Ariston, in fact, I should have the 6th chapter of The Three Gifts out soon I hope!
And I may decide to change the title from More Then Life, it was simply all I could think of at the moment.
You will notice that this is written in the third person instead of how I usually write in the first person. I just wanted to try something a little different, I might write some parts of the chapters in my usual way.
She wondered the lands in a mixture of despair and determination, her feet raw, her shoes had been tossed aside when she wore through the soles a few days before. He is gone, how could I have betrayed him so? She wondered in her mind as tears of shame, regret and guilt ran down her face. All her life she thought she was loved, but she never knew love until she married him, her Eros. Even if he hated her, he was still hers, he was still her husband, no one could say he was not. She did not know if her Eros would ever forgive her, how could he forgive her for trying to kill him? She would never be able to forget the look of betrayal in his eyes when he saw the knife in her hand, even though it would not have been able to harm him, realizing what she had meant to do broke his heart and hurt him in a way he never knew was possible.
As desperate and dismal as her situation was, she found the will to live, to keep on walking. She laid her hands upon her womb, it was for her child that she walked on into a strange land in search of her husband. She would not give him up, she would not live without him, if it took the rest of her days, she would find him and somehow find a way to earn his forgiveness.
He watched from the clouds up high, wanting nothing more than to take his love, his wife, back into his arms, but how could he? My mother was right, He thought to himself with a shattered soul. She cannot be trusted. And although he knew this to be true, he still could not help remembering how it felt to hold her in his arms, to hear her call out to him in the darkness, teasing him. Even though he knew that he could not trust her, he also knew that he would never be able to stop loving her, that was an impossibility.
She was so much a part of him that being parted from her like this was killing him, he did not know how he could survive another moment of it, never mind an eternity without her. The mortals are lucky to have such an easy way out as death, in another eighty years Psyche would die and with time be reborn without memory of him. Be he, Eros god of love, would never forget the warmth of her body held close to his, how she kissed his neck and whispered sweet nothings into his ear as he held her in his arms after a long, passionate night together. No, the taste of her lips, the feeling of her hair in between his fingers and the softness of her skin he would never be able to forget and he did not know how he would live an eternity without her.
He was so blinded by a fierce and torturous mixture of love and betrayal that he did not notice how she protected her womb and the precious child within it with her bony arms. How was he to know she was carrying his child? She herself did not know until two months after he left. He was slowly losing the will to live and for a god, that is a dangerous thing.
Author's Note: So, what do you think? I am going to try and get the first chapter out soon:)