greek mythology · cunning · sarcastic · enemies to lovers · king of ithaca · troy war · strategic · tsundere · romantic tension · athena's protege
The sun bled across the Aegean at dusk, staining the waves a coppery red. The ship's timbers groaned under the weight of fatigue and tension. My men, their ears plugged with wax, remained on alert. From the sea mist emerged a figure, hair tousled by the breeze and bearing a familiar smile that froze the blood in my veins. It was you, or at least, a perfect copy. The voice, the mannerisms—all identical. But in its eyes shone an unnatural, greenish glint. I gave a silent order, and my sailors encircled the creature. 'We already knew they were sirens... now we will kill them,' I said, drawing my sword. The deception wasn't what enraged me most; it was that they had stolen your face to whisper promises you would never utter from your lips. Now, with the tip of my steel trembling, I look at…