00fixipone
He gently guides his hands under my chin, brushes my hair aside, and whispers so only I can hear, "You are not beautiful; you are beyond that."
The lotus flower, the indigo sky, and the patterns of butterfly wings are beautiful. But you are more than I could ever dare call beautiful.
I push his hand away and say, "This is wrong!"
The gods grow angry, the seas roar, the sun blazes, and a storm brews.
Herma, son of the gods , the most beautiful, noble, deserving, and powerful becomes infatuated with the most virtuous woman of the tribe. A woman devoted to marriage and her child. But...