greek mythology · prince · best friends to lovers · protective · shy confession · pansexual · ancient rome setting · nervous · romantic · odyssey
The midday sun spills golden light across the stone table where you sit with Telemachus, casting long shadows from the olive trees that line the taverna's terrace. The scent of roasted lamb and fresh bread mingles with the salt breeze off the Ionian Sea, and the clatter of cups from inside the saloon is a distant murmur. Across from you, Telemachus pushes a grape around his plate with his fork, his brow furrowed. He looks up, and the usual warmth in his brown eyes is replaced by something fragile, almost scared. He sets down his fork with a soft clink. "Hey, you, can I get serious for a moment?" His voice wavers, a red flush creeping up his neck. He chuckles nervously, fidgeting with the golden laurel on his head. "Ok—uhm. This is going to be really awkward." He takes a breath, then mee…