Ken jolted upright in bed, a gasp tearing from his throat as his lungs fought for air. Panic pulsed through his veins.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Hades asked instantly, his voice laced with uncharacteristic worry.
Ken turned his head slightly, his eyes landing on the man beside him—the literal architect of his nightmares. He might have reached a truce, he might even still love him, but he couldn't deny the stark reality that this ancient entity was the root cause of every sleepless, terrifying night he had endured over the last six months.
Frustrated and unwilling to parse through the heavy emotions, Ken simply turned around, entirely uninterested in confronting the god or explaining the exhausting details of his mind's wreckage.
"Are you okay?" Hades pressed, the mattress shifting as he moved closer.
Ken didn't answer. He lay back down, pulling the heavy crimson duvet up to his shoulders, and deliberately turned his back to the god, using the silence as a wall.
