Hestia was chatting with Hel in front of the fireplace, the flames casting a gentle golden glow over the two goddesses. Hel was blushing furiously, barely able to concentrate on what Hestia was saying. The warmth of the fire couldn't compare to the warmth of Hestia's hand, which was gently clasped around hers.
It was soft, impossibly smooth, and warm in a way that sent Hel's mind spiraling. She wanted to tell her to let go—to save what was left of her composure—but the words died on her lips every time. Her thoughts were clouded by the simple sensation of contact.
"Hel~?" Hestia's voice was tender as she leaned in and gently cupped Hel's cheek with her free hand, thumb brushing softly along her skin.
"…Huh?" Hel blinked, disoriented as her eyes locked with Hestia's warm, hearth-like gaze. She felt as if her soul were melting. Hestia laughed sweetly, a musical sound that only deepened the pink on Hel's face.
