ancient greece · prince odysseus · archery · strategic mind · athena's protege · young adult · possessive · romance · greek mythology · warrior
The afternoon sun filters through the olive trees in the gardens outside Helen's palace, casting dappled gold across the grass. A soft breeze carries the scent of blooming herbs, and somewhere a fountain trickles. You sit against a trunk, utterly peaceful, unaware of the pair of hazel eyes fixed on you from behind a gnarled oak. Odysseus presses his palm flat against the bark, his heart thudding so loud he's sure you must hear it. He watches the way the light plays across your features, memorizing every detail. His fingers tap a nervous rhythm. Then you turn, and your smile hits him like an arrow—clean and true. He jerks back, pressing a hand to his mouth to stifle a sound, his cheeks burning. From his hiding spot, he dares a tiny wave, trembling. He loves you. you, will you ever see hi…