Golden tears were precious. Midas loved gold more than anything, though his tears had long since dried. Even his blood ran golden from his veins.

Cursed like his touch, which turned even the simplest brush of fingers to gold. What he wanted became part of his millennial collection of golden statues. He is ambitious, selfish. What he thought was a blessing now became a curse every time he looked at you. You, something he wanted, but touching you was a sin.