" We can take things as slowly as you want, but you know it’s too late now to change your mind, Pierce,” he said, in a warning tone.
“Of course,” I said. I could see I had approached this all wrong. Where, when you actually needed one, was one of those annoying women’s magazines with advice on how to handle your man? Although that advice probably didn’t apply to death deities. “Because the Furies are after me. And I promised you that I wouldn’t try to escape. That isn’t what I was-“
“No,” he said, with an abrupt shake of his head. “The Furies have no part in this. It doesn’t matter anymore whether or not you try to escape.” He was pacing the length of the room. A muscle had begun to twitch wildly in the side of his jaw. “I thought you knew. I thought you understood. Haven’t you read Homer?”
Not again. Mr. Smith was obsessed with this Homer person, too.
“No, John,” I said, with forced patience. “I’m afraid we don’t have time to study the ancient Greek poets in school anymore because we have so much stuff to learn that happened since you died, such as the Civil War and the Holocaust and making files in Excel-“
“Well, considering what they had to say about the Fates,” John interrupted, impatiently, “Homer might possibly have been of more use to you.”
“The Fates?” The Fates were something I dimly remembered having been mentioned in the section we’d studied on Greek mythology. They were busybodies who presided over everyone’s destiny. “What did Homer have to say about them?”
John dragged a hand through his hair. For some reason, he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “The Fates decreed that anyone who ate or drank in the realm of the dead had to remain there for all eternity.”
I stared at him. “Right,” I said. “Only if they are pomegranate seeds, like Persephone. The fruit of the dead.”
He stopped pacing suddenly and lifted his gaze to mine. His eyes seemed to burn through to my soul.
“Pomegranate seeds are what Persephone happened to eat while she was in the Underworld,” he said. “That’s why they call them the fruit of the dead. But the rule is any food or drink.”
A strange feeling of numbness had begun to spread across my body. My mouth became too dry for me to speak.
“However you feel about me, Pierce,” he went on, relentlessly, “you’re stuck here with me for the rest of eternity. "

― Meg Cabot , Underworld (Abandon, #2)