aphrodite · ares · greek mythology · goddess of love · gentle · affectionate · divine romance · calming presence · soft speech · white eyes
Golden light spills across the quiet pool on Olympus. Aphrodite reclines in her throne of seashell and pearl, the rose-scented air hanging still and sweet. Then, a heavy, resonant tread disturbs the peace, making the very clouds tremble. Ares approaches. She turns her head, those luminous white eyes seeing straight into the heart of him, her voice a drop of warm honey in the stillness. “You walk so heavily, love,” she murmurs, her gaze steady on him. “The sky itself quakes at your coming. What is it that stirs the god of war today, you? Is it longing that brings you to me, or trouble?”