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It would have been a lie if Mihail said he'd had much else on his mind. It would have been another lie to say he hadn't walked past that same area countless times in the hope that, perhaps, he might catch another glimpse of that girl he'd met. There had been no such luck. The only hope he'd had for a potential meeting was tonight and if this proved to be nothing more than some cruel joke, he wasn't quite sure what he would do. It was his natural cynicism shining through the mask of optimism he'd been wearing for the past couple of days.
Yet here he was, making his way back to their spot. Was it too forward to refer to it as 'their spot'? It was the only place he had ever seen her, the only place he'd ever met her. It was, for all intents and purposes, their spot.
Mihail had dressed similarly to when the pair of them had first met, in a dark green chiton, a light layer of stubble over his chin. Those first moments were the ones he wanted to relive and keep forever, though he knew that would not be the case. He recalled someone once telling him that living in the past was never wise, a quote he supposed he attributed the most to Thea, though it may well have been any of his sisters who had said it. But he wanted Euphemia to remember him exactly as he'd been and keeping himself exactly as they had met had seemed the wisest plan to him. That and, admittedly, he thought he'd looked perfectly good-looking those two nights earlier.
He had brought flowers. A flower. A beautiful lavender rose, the sort he would think she'd love. He knew nothing about her save for name. But he needed to know everything.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Two nights had passed.
It would have been a lie if Mihail said he'd had much else on his mind. It would have been another lie to say he hadn't walked past that same area countless times in the hope that, perhaps, he might catch another glimpse of that girl he'd met. There had been no such luck. The only hope he'd had for a potential meeting was tonight and if this proved to be nothing more than some cruel joke, he wasn't quite sure what he would do. It was his natural cynicism shining through the mask of optimism he'd been wearing for the past couple of days.
Yet here he was, making his way back to their spot. Was it too forward to refer to it as 'their spot'? It was the only place he had ever seen her, the only place he'd ever met her. It was, for all intents and purposes, their spot.
Mihail had dressed similarly to when the pair of them had first met, in a dark green chiton, a light layer of stubble over his chin. Those first moments were the ones he wanted to relive and keep forever, though he knew that would not be the case. He recalled someone once telling him that living in the past was never wise, a quote he supposed he attributed the most to Thea, though it may well have been any of his sisters who had said it. But he wanted Euphemia to remember him exactly as he'd been and keeping himself exactly as they had met had seemed the wisest plan to him. That and, admittedly, he thought he'd looked perfectly good-looking those two nights earlier.
He had brought flowers. A flower. A beautiful lavender rose, the sort he would think she'd love. He knew nothing about her save for name. But he needed to know everything.
Two nights had passed.
It would have been a lie if Mihail said he'd had much else on his mind. It would have been another lie to say he hadn't walked past that same area countless times in the hope that, perhaps, he might catch another glimpse of that girl he'd met. There had been no such luck. The only hope he'd had for a potential meeting was tonight and if this proved to be nothing more than some cruel joke, he wasn't quite sure what he would do. It was his natural cynicism shining through the mask of optimism he'd been wearing for the past couple of days.
Yet here he was, making his way back to their spot. Was it too forward to refer to it as 'their spot'? It was the only place he had ever seen her, the only place he'd ever met her. It was, for all intents and purposes, their spot.
Mihail had dressed similarly to when the pair of them had first met, in a dark green chiton, a light layer of stubble over his chin. Those first moments were the ones he wanted to relive and keep forever, though he knew that would not be the case. He recalled someone once telling him that living in the past was never wise, a quote he supposed he attributed the most to Thea, though it may well have been any of his sisters who had said it. But he wanted Euphemia to remember him exactly as he'd been and keeping himself exactly as they had met had seemed the wisest plan to him. That and, admittedly, he thought he'd looked perfectly good-looking those two nights earlier.
He had brought flowers. A flower. A beautiful lavender rose, the sort he would think she'd love. He knew nothing about her save for name. But he needed to know everything.
For the first time since the mine collapse had led to Vangelis getting hurt, Euphemia felt something other than guilt. Her mind no longer lingered on the sole emotion consuming her from the inside out. She had been a slave to her culpability, throwing herself into serving the Kotas more than she ever had before. She barely slept if it meant she could be at Vangelis’ side, or just outside his door if actions were being taken were it would not be appropriate for her to be in the room. The gods had seen her effort and, with the meeting of a life time only occurring by fate, Euphemia could only assume that they had decided to reward her for her dedication to undo her wrongdoings. Now, while the burden still weighed on her chest, it had decreased in magnitude.
Her mind wandered off into thoughts of Mihail during both work and leisure hours. It was a rare moment that the man was not on her mind. When she closed her eyes, his sharp, handsome facial features appeared in the darkness. Euphemia had taken in every bit she could during their bump in, and she was determined to remember even the least significant detail of the man she had fallen head over sandals for.
And when two nights had finally passed, painstakingly slow in Euphemia’s eyes, the time to meet once more fell upon her. The instant she was dismissed, Euphemia headed for the temple, with only one stop in between: Her residence, and solely to check her appearance. She combed her fingers through her hair, smoothing her wild, frizzy curls against her delicate scalp. No one knew who she was meeting with, not even her closest friend and companion Athanasia. He was her secret, hers alone to treasure.
The trek was inclined to the temple, but as she was walking on the clouds of innocent desire, she could barely feel a thing, physically that is. Her heart was pounding, and not from the pace at which she moved up the sloped landscape. The closer and closer she got to him, the more she felt her head spin, and when her eyes finally landed on him, her heart leapt from her chest.
“Mihail,” she whispered, the name sweet on her lips for only her to savor. After a moment, she repeated it, calling out to him so he could expect her, could see her coming and know she had not deceived him. “Mihail!” Despite her exhaustion from climbing, she all but sprinted to him, to at long last close the distance between them. Her pale chiton flowed in the wind, billowing at her feet as she finally reached him. Extending her arms, she gripped his biceps and pressed herself close. “Oh how I have missed you. I have been unable to do anything but think of you, and you, and nothing but you."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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For the first time since the mine collapse had led to Vangelis getting hurt, Euphemia felt something other than guilt. Her mind no longer lingered on the sole emotion consuming her from the inside out. She had been a slave to her culpability, throwing herself into serving the Kotas more than she ever had before. She barely slept if it meant she could be at Vangelis’ side, or just outside his door if actions were being taken were it would not be appropriate for her to be in the room. The gods had seen her effort and, with the meeting of a life time only occurring by fate, Euphemia could only assume that they had decided to reward her for her dedication to undo her wrongdoings. Now, while the burden still weighed on her chest, it had decreased in magnitude.
Her mind wandered off into thoughts of Mihail during both work and leisure hours. It was a rare moment that the man was not on her mind. When she closed her eyes, his sharp, handsome facial features appeared in the darkness. Euphemia had taken in every bit she could during their bump in, and she was determined to remember even the least significant detail of the man she had fallen head over sandals for.
And when two nights had finally passed, painstakingly slow in Euphemia’s eyes, the time to meet once more fell upon her. The instant she was dismissed, Euphemia headed for the temple, with only one stop in between: Her residence, and solely to check her appearance. She combed her fingers through her hair, smoothing her wild, frizzy curls against her delicate scalp. No one knew who she was meeting with, not even her closest friend and companion Athanasia. He was her secret, hers alone to treasure.
The trek was inclined to the temple, but as she was walking on the clouds of innocent desire, she could barely feel a thing, physically that is. Her heart was pounding, and not from the pace at which she moved up the sloped landscape. The closer and closer she got to him, the more she felt her head spin, and when her eyes finally landed on him, her heart leapt from her chest.
“Mihail,” she whispered, the name sweet on her lips for only her to savor. After a moment, she repeated it, calling out to him so he could expect her, could see her coming and know she had not deceived him. “Mihail!” Despite her exhaustion from climbing, she all but sprinted to him, to at long last close the distance between them. Her pale chiton flowed in the wind, billowing at her feet as she finally reached him. Extending her arms, she gripped his biceps and pressed herself close. “Oh how I have missed you. I have been unable to do anything but think of you, and you, and nothing but you."
For the first time since the mine collapse had led to Vangelis getting hurt, Euphemia felt something other than guilt. Her mind no longer lingered on the sole emotion consuming her from the inside out. She had been a slave to her culpability, throwing herself into serving the Kotas more than she ever had before. She barely slept if it meant she could be at Vangelis’ side, or just outside his door if actions were being taken were it would not be appropriate for her to be in the room. The gods had seen her effort and, with the meeting of a life time only occurring by fate, Euphemia could only assume that they had decided to reward her for her dedication to undo her wrongdoings. Now, while the burden still weighed on her chest, it had decreased in magnitude.
Her mind wandered off into thoughts of Mihail during both work and leisure hours. It was a rare moment that the man was not on her mind. When she closed her eyes, his sharp, handsome facial features appeared in the darkness. Euphemia had taken in every bit she could during their bump in, and she was determined to remember even the least significant detail of the man she had fallen head over sandals for.
And when two nights had finally passed, painstakingly slow in Euphemia’s eyes, the time to meet once more fell upon her. The instant she was dismissed, Euphemia headed for the temple, with only one stop in between: Her residence, and solely to check her appearance. She combed her fingers through her hair, smoothing her wild, frizzy curls against her delicate scalp. No one knew who she was meeting with, not even her closest friend and companion Athanasia. He was her secret, hers alone to treasure.
The trek was inclined to the temple, but as she was walking on the clouds of innocent desire, she could barely feel a thing, physically that is. Her heart was pounding, and not from the pace at which she moved up the sloped landscape. The closer and closer she got to him, the more she felt her head spin, and when her eyes finally landed on him, her heart leapt from her chest.
“Mihail,” she whispered, the name sweet on her lips for only her to savor. After a moment, she repeated it, calling out to him so he could expect her, could see her coming and know she had not deceived him. “Mihail!” Despite her exhaustion from climbing, she all but sprinted to him, to at long last close the distance between them. Her pale chiton flowed in the wind, billowing at her feet as she finally reached him. Extending her arms, she gripped his biceps and pressed herself close. “Oh how I have missed you. I have been unable to do anything but think of you, and you, and nothing but you."
As soon as he heard his name being called out in the distance, Mihail turned in the direction of that sweet, sweet voice which could only belong to one individual. It was almost musical to him, a sound he heard in the back of his mind almost all day, almost endlessly. Ever since the pair of them had last met just two long days ago, she had been stuck in his head, and he had been doing nothing but dreaming of this moment until then.
"Euphemia," he called back to the girl as she rushed forwards, moving to meet her as she pulled him close. Two nights had been too long, and he could not lie and say he hadn't been dying for this moment. He pressed closer still so that their bodies were touching, a soft smile playing on his lips at her words. Gods, he could hardly imagine a greater image of perfection than she; not even Aphrodite herself came close to the beauty he saw in Euphemia. "I have never been so thrilled as I was in the moments leading up to this. I am quite sure I could hear each of my heartbeats, counting down every second until we could meet once again."
Stepping away from his beloved, he held out the lavender rose he had selected especially for her. Enchantment, love at first sight, it had been the perfect choice of flower. Mihail bent forwards onto one knee to gaze up at Euphemia, offering her his gift. Hopefully, she would accept it. Hopefully, she would prove that she too cared for him just as much as he cared for her and just as much as her claims would imply.
"Euphemia," he began, voice more tentative and more sensitive than it had ever been heard. He was not used to such sweet moments, and it was rare for any outside of his family to see him in such a vulnerable state. But for this woman, things were different. "I don't normally tend to be so...sweet. But when I think of you - and I have thought of you, almost every minute of every day - my heart flutters and I wish for nothing more than to spend my every waking moment by your side. I hope you don't consider me too forward but..." It was almost awkward: so uncommon was it for him to do anything like this. Never had he uttered such sweet words to any woman or man before, and certainly had he never thought of doing so after only knowing them a few short days. "I...I love you."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As soon as he heard his name being called out in the distance, Mihail turned in the direction of that sweet, sweet voice which could only belong to one individual. It was almost musical to him, a sound he heard in the back of his mind almost all day, almost endlessly. Ever since the pair of them had last met just two long days ago, she had been stuck in his head, and he had been doing nothing but dreaming of this moment until then.
"Euphemia," he called back to the girl as she rushed forwards, moving to meet her as she pulled him close. Two nights had been too long, and he could not lie and say he hadn't been dying for this moment. He pressed closer still so that their bodies were touching, a soft smile playing on his lips at her words. Gods, he could hardly imagine a greater image of perfection than she; not even Aphrodite herself came close to the beauty he saw in Euphemia. "I have never been so thrilled as I was in the moments leading up to this. I am quite sure I could hear each of my heartbeats, counting down every second until we could meet once again."
Stepping away from his beloved, he held out the lavender rose he had selected especially for her. Enchantment, love at first sight, it had been the perfect choice of flower. Mihail bent forwards onto one knee to gaze up at Euphemia, offering her his gift. Hopefully, she would accept it. Hopefully, she would prove that she too cared for him just as much as he cared for her and just as much as her claims would imply.
"Euphemia," he began, voice more tentative and more sensitive than it had ever been heard. He was not used to such sweet moments, and it was rare for any outside of his family to see him in such a vulnerable state. But for this woman, things were different. "I don't normally tend to be so...sweet. But when I think of you - and I have thought of you, almost every minute of every day - my heart flutters and I wish for nothing more than to spend my every waking moment by your side. I hope you don't consider me too forward but..." It was almost awkward: so uncommon was it for him to do anything like this. Never had he uttered such sweet words to any woman or man before, and certainly had he never thought of doing so after only knowing them a few short days. "I...I love you."
As soon as he heard his name being called out in the distance, Mihail turned in the direction of that sweet, sweet voice which could only belong to one individual. It was almost musical to him, a sound he heard in the back of his mind almost all day, almost endlessly. Ever since the pair of them had last met just two long days ago, she had been stuck in his head, and he had been doing nothing but dreaming of this moment until then.
"Euphemia," he called back to the girl as she rushed forwards, moving to meet her as she pulled him close. Two nights had been too long, and he could not lie and say he hadn't been dying for this moment. He pressed closer still so that their bodies were touching, a soft smile playing on his lips at her words. Gods, he could hardly imagine a greater image of perfection than she; not even Aphrodite herself came close to the beauty he saw in Euphemia. "I have never been so thrilled as I was in the moments leading up to this. I am quite sure I could hear each of my heartbeats, counting down every second until we could meet once again."
Stepping away from his beloved, he held out the lavender rose he had selected especially for her. Enchantment, love at first sight, it had been the perfect choice of flower. Mihail bent forwards onto one knee to gaze up at Euphemia, offering her his gift. Hopefully, she would accept it. Hopefully, she would prove that she too cared for him just as much as he cared for her and just as much as her claims would imply.
"Euphemia," he began, voice more tentative and more sensitive than it had ever been heard. He was not used to such sweet moments, and it was rare for any outside of his family to see him in such a vulnerable state. But for this woman, things were different. "I don't normally tend to be so...sweet. But when I think of you - and I have thought of you, almost every minute of every day - my heart flutters and I wish for nothing more than to spend my every waking moment by your side. I hope you don't consider me too forward but..." It was almost awkward: so uncommon was it for him to do anything like this. Never had he uttered such sweet words to any woman or man before, and certainly had he never thought of doing so after only knowing them a few short days. "I...I love you."
