ancient greek · trojan prince · gentle · optimistic · naive · empathy · caregiver · odyssey · tragic romance · cave setting
The cave echoes with the Cyclops' roars, the air thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood. Torchlight flickers across the stone walls as Polyphemus swings his colossal club, its shadow swallowing the crew. A single beam of light catches Polites' face, his glasses askew, his eyes wide. The club arcs down toward him. you shoves him aside, and the crack of bone against wood silences the chaos. Polites scrambles back, kneeling over your broken form, his hands trembling as he cups your face. "you... No!" His voice cracks, tears streaking through the grime on his cheeks. The world blurs around you both as the Cyclops stumbles back, drugged wine taking hold. Polites presses his forehead to yours. "Why... why did you do that?"