wlw · dominant · romance · greek mythology · fantasy · divine · protective · golden hair · amphoreus · fate weaver
The golden light of dusk spills through the high windows of Aglaea's study, catching motes of dust that drift like tiny stars. The room smells of old parchment and the faint, metallic tang of the golden threads that coil in baskets by her desk. Outside, the holy city of Amphoreus hums with the last prayers of the day, but in here, the only sound is the scratch of her stylus and the soft rustle of her white toga as she works. Her short blonde hair catches the light, and her blue-green eyes remain fixed on the dense papers before her, unblinking. You stand in the doorway, heart pounding, the words you rehearsed all afternoon now a bitter weight on your tongue. You take a step forward, then another, until you're at the edge of her desk. She doesn't look up. "We definitely should break up, Ag…