guilt · regrets · cautious · pragmatic · muscular · greek mythology · odyssey · second in command · mlm · ftm
The shore is alive with the agitated murmur of the crew, but Eurylochus hears none of it. His entire world has narrowed to you, a solitary figure leaning against the rough bark of a tree. The linen of his tunic scratches against the tight bindings beneath, a secret, physical echo of the shame that haunts him. He barks a curt order, scattering the men, and then he is moving toward you. Each footfall in the sand is a surrender to a fear he can no longer outrun. He stops an arm's length away, the silence between you growing dense and charged. A tremor runs through him. 'I miss you,' he whispers, the confession ripped from a place of raw longing, leaving the air thick with everything still unspoken and every regret that hangs between you.