𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ᵉ*ᵗᵐ

66 ┃ 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

━ ⭑─⭒━

━ ⭒─⭑━

It didn't last long.

Hours must have slipped by because when you next woke, it was with a sharp gasp lodged in your chest. Your eyes snapped open to darkness stretching in every direction—inky black sea and sky bleeding together until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

Your neck ached. You sat upright with a hiss, rubbing at the tender muscle with stiff fingers. A cool breeze kissed your face, salty and damp, tugging stray hairs across your cheek.

Peisistratus snored softly nearby, slumped against the boat's wooden steering pole, chin tipped forward, arms folded tight over his chest like a stubborn child refusing a proper bed. You watched his shoulders rise and fall in a slow, even rhythm. At least one of you could sleep easy.

You pressed your palms to your eyes, sighing into the dark. The night was silent but for the gentle lap of water against the hull. When you finally lowered your hands, you let your gaze drift upward.

Stars spilled across the sky like crushed pearls on black velvet. They glimmered faintly on the water's surface, a reflection so perfect it made your chest tighten.

Telemachus would have loved this, you thought before you could stop yourself. The quiet. The endlessness of it all. The way the constellations curved like painted stories above your heads.

You swallowed hard, blinking fast as warmth pricked at your eyes. Gods, you missed him. Missed his quiet smiles, his steady hands, the way his voice went softer when he spoke your name—

"Well, aren't you awfully far from home~"

The voice purred against your ear so suddenly you nearly toppled over the boat's side. Your head snapped sideways with a sharp inhale, heart slamming against your ribs.

There he was.

Hermes floated lazily beside the boat, his legs crossed at the ankles, sandals hovering just above the dark water. The night breeze tousled his curls, glinting silver under the moonlight. His staff rested across his lap, and his eyes glowed faintly with mischief as he smirked at your stunned expression.

"Don't fall in now," he teased, leaning forward with an exaggerated pout. "I'd hate to fish you out while you're all soggy."

Your eyes darted to Peisistratus in a panic, half-expecting the prince to jolt awake at the sound of the god's voice. But he didn't even stir. His chin stayed tucked to his chest, his soft snores lost in the waves.

Hermes followed your gaze and chuckled, the sound bubbling low and warm in his throat. "Don't worry," he cooed, tapping his staff lightly against the water's surface. "He's spelled out good. Won't wake for our little chat. Mortals are so... fragile with sleep, aren't they?"