This is important.

She is afraid.

The two thoughts swim around her, like shadows in the deep, invisible except in the shadows they cast, inaudible except in the electric thrill that fills the entire sea. They push her from the shallows, hound her to the depths, give her limbs the death-delaying chest-heaving strength of adrenaline.

Body cries hollow in multiple ways. Her eyes sag as she lifts her head from the workbench. Her stomach claws at her back, gnawing and empty. Brain empty, thoughts slow, like wading through a river.
She should have given this up when the creativity failed. Should have run when the thoughts failed to leap, had to be mustered and ordered and fought. Refused to work as they should, fled to greener fields, with saner--

But this is important. And she is afraid.
She stares at the god like a butterfly at a pin. He is the first person to talk to her in.

Time is. She's pretty sure that time happened, at some point, here in the dark. 

It must have. Couch wasn't here before, and she can't remember when it got here. Can't remember it arriving. Didn't order it? Doesn't think she ordered it. 

Spies. Probably the spies, noticing her and doing it for her. Noticing and caring and not asking whether maybe she shouldn't be--

It's perfect. Simpering, beautiful. Aching to be abused. 

A masterpiece, she notes with. It's not pride. It should be pride. She did it, finally did it, finally did something right.

It's sin incarnate. Hideous. Dangles from Aphrodite's threads like a mockery. Stares at her with exactly the right expression, the one she slaved over and crafted to purpose, mouth open and whispering and echoing in the silence that

You did this. You did this. You did this.

Because it was important, and you were afraid.

"Why?" she breathes. 

She does not touch him. Some lessons are burned in early. But he is here, and he is the first to talk to her in too long, and the question cannot be bound, cannot be restrained, comes with its own movements. To beg, to plead, to let her go back, try it again, do something different.

She knows why. 

"Why? What had we done, to so earn the hatred of love?"

She knows why.

But here, it is important.

And she is very, very afraid.