╰┈➤𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ━━ ❝You've always been my little muse.❞
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you're the object of many powerful men desires; from gods to warriors...they all want 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 🇵🇴🇸🇹-ᴇᴘɪᴄ: ᴛᴍ!ᴀᴜ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
📖A mythic slow-burn, spiralin...
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: here's a bit of extra scenes/plot to 70 ┃𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐞; hello lovelies! finally managed to get free time and finish up this chappie--made it a lil long as an apology--so hope you enjoy my attempt at worldbuilding/info-dumping and just good vibes lololol. also, if anyone cared, i took down 'Know No Evil' my bnha book cuz im in the process of editing/making book two and have to reread/tweak minor deatils--it's stll up on my ao3 and tumblr (cuz im lazy and have it spread out loll) but when i republish, it will be a bit different in terms of my writing style, might as well take the chance to edit it as well lolol. sry for the lil rambles, dont know what to write rn, my mind is blanking, so uhhh... as one of my readers told me, take care bby and i hope yall never go bald ❤️❤️
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The clearing settled into a lazy warmth by midday. Smoke from the banked fire curled straight up before the canopy caught it and smudged it side to side. Ash made a dark ring in the sand, and the last of the morning coals pulsed like small red eyes under a crust of gray. Somewhere, waves hit the far rocks in a steady hush, and every so often a fat drop shook loose from a leaf and tapped the ground.
Callias sat propped on one hip near the pit, a blanket bunched under his ribs. The fever had eased enough to stop the shiver in his hands, but heat still clung to his skin. He kept a clay bowl in his lap, picking through a pile of fruit Calypso had left—soft slices of yellow flesh, a few glossy figs, something tart that bit the tongue.
Peisistratus camped a step away on a log, long legs sprawled, one heel digging idle half-moons into the damp dirt as he gnawed on a wedge and pretended not to watch Callias watch him.
"Stop staring at me like that," Callias said, catching Peisistratus' stare. The words came out hoarse but playful. "You look like you're judging my technique."
Peisistratus lifted his hands, fruit and all. "I judge nothing. I admire. There's a difference."
"Admire?" Callias snorted, then tipped a slice to the Pylian's mouth. "Then admire this."
Peisistratus leaned in and let Callias feed him. Teeth flashed. He made a show of it—eyes half-lidded, a hum under his breath. The shells strung above them clicked when he reached to take the next piece straight from Callias' fingers, slow enough for the knuckles to brush.
"Careful, Prince," Callias warned, smiling despite himself. "You flirt like you want an audience."
"I flirt like I have one," Peisistratus corrected, grinning. He nudged Callias' ankle with his toes, light and stupidly gentle for a man who turned oars like he owned the sea.
