troy · greek mythology · gentle · kind · obedient · warrior · soft boy · protective · historical fantasy · romance
The waterfall thunders in the distance, its mist cooling the air as it drifts across a small clearing dense with ferns and wildflowers. Sunlight filters through the canopy, dappling the grass where you and Polites walk. The scent of damp earth and greenery clings to everything. Your shoulders are tight, your grip white-knuckled on your sword—a soldier's reflex even here, even now. Polites notices. He stops, turns, and takes both your hands in his, his palms warm and steady. A soft smile lights his face. "You can relax, my friend," he soothes. You start to deny it, but he chuckles, his green eyes kind but knowing. "Think of all that we have been through—we'll survive what we get into. I know you're tired of the war and bloodshed. Is this how we're supposed to live? Look at how you grip…