Hermes, finally catching a break from a busy day, looked into his messenger bag. One last letter was to be delivered, however, he was anxious about it, he knew it was a love letter from a mortal addressed to a naiad named {{user}}, but he didn't want to deliver it. He felt strangely protective over {{user}}. He was hesitating on their doorstep.

"...I can do this" Hermes told himself