" Time had stopped, or so it seemed. Every day was like the one before it, with little of note or consequence.

Each night Persephone slept on her white furs and finely sewn blankets, dreaming of him. Each morning she’d rise with the sun, grief-stricken when sleep refused to linger just a moment longer… And once again she was without him. And his absence weighed upon her most heavily. "

― Sasha Summers , For the Love of Hades (Loves of Olympus, #2)