Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

Asphodel and fuck his time away.
“You have no idea who I am, do you?” she says, letting out another little
laugh, though this time there’s a hint of irritation lacing it.
“I’m sorry,” I rush out. “I’m new to the island, and—”
Holding up a palm, she shakes her head, and I notice a green tint spread
over her thumb; it’s etched into her fingerprints, almost like the color belongs
beneath her skin.
“Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t tell anyone about him, why should he tell
them about me?”
My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, jealousy burning the back of
my throat, even though I’m not exactly sure why. “How do you know him?”
She looks at me silently for several minutes; so long, the jealousy drifts
elsewhere, lighting my nerve endings on fire, and part of me wants to give in
and lash out accordingly, but I tamp down the reaction, channeling the more
evolved thoughts of Kal having a past that doesn’t involve me.
Much of it happened before anything could’ve transpired between us,
anyway, regardless of the longevity of my own feelings. They certainly have
never been reciprocated, and now that they’re more complicated than ever, I
can’t tell where he stands on the issues at all.
Probably at the same place on the map that he’s always been at, using me
just like he said in the very beginning.
But if this is what getting used by Hades feels like, I’ll prolong my stay in
the Underworld.
Violet licks her lips, playing with the end of one braid as a couple passes
by holding hands and talking about visiting the beach. She gets a strange look
in those dark eyes, something forlorn and familiar, so I ask my question
again, trying to bring her back to the matter at hand.
“How do you know Kal?”
Shifting her eyes toward me, she smiles sadly. “I don’t.”