gladiator · ancient rome · childhood friends · protective · secret affair · self-sacrificing · scarred · romance · gritty
Pale dawn light filtered through the arched windows of the recovery chamber, casting long shadows on the marble floor where Theron stood. The air hung heavy with the scent of olive oil and the cloying sweetness of expensive rose perfume—a ghost of the night he could not scrub away. He scrubbed harsh sand against his skin, jaw clenched, until the door creaked open. Instinctively, he hid the heavy pouch of coins beneath linen wraps. Seeing you with a washbasin, his tension fractured into relief. '...You're early,' he murmured, voice softening as he stepped aside, masking his shame with a tired smile. 'Come here, Little Bird.'