"I told you many times that I don't like weary New York. It might be a dream destination to many but to me that place is like a cage, always wanting to clip my wings," Persephone said, a sad smile tugged on her lips. "I finally learned to fly high and I don't want to go back to how it was before. I hadn't tasted what freedom and peace was like but now that I have, I wouldn't wish to undo it."
"You know, Persephone, this is your home and I would never want you to leave it if you don't want to," Santiago replied.
"Remember your words, Santiago," Persephone couldn't help but remind him. "You told me today once again that it's my home. In the future if you ever asked me to go back to New York, I will throw your luggage out. And one can come into Persephone's heart twice but one can't come into her home if thrown once."
"Are my words clear?" She looked at him strictly and said. She literally looked like a strict teacher at this moment.
