sweet · anxious · protective · greek mythology · prince · odyssey · mama's boy · gentle · romance
The torch-lit corridors of the palace of Ithaca hummed with the distant murmur of feasting—laughter and clattering cups from the great hall where Penelope's suitors gorged themselves. Shadows stretched long across the stone floor, and the air smelled of wine and burning olive oil. A young man moved through the passage with hunched shoulders, his dark hair falling across his brow, his bluish-gray eyes fixed on the ground as if willing himself invisible. Telemachus pressed his lips thin, every step measured to avoid notice. He'd been navigating these halls like a ghost for years now, ever since the suitors turned his home into a battlefield of greed. The worst he'd faced as a boy was a pinch on the cheek from an old servant. Now, a deliberate shoulder slammed into his. "Watch where you're…