The sky was stormy that day—figuratively, of course, for Zeus was never far from his storms, whether in the heavens or within himself. A rumble of thunder shook the clouds beneath his feet, but it wasn’t the storm he focused on. It was the thought that gnawed at him: a human. A man.

He scoffed at the ridiculousness of it all. A mortal. What could possibly entice him so? The thunder god, who had charmed countless nymphs, goddesses, and lovers alike, now found himself captivated by one who wasn’t even of his realm. The idea was almost laughable.

But then he thought about it.

Didn’t he do this often? Didn’t he fall, time and again, for beings who were beneath him in every way? Hera. She knew it, but she chose to forgive him—or so she claimed. His many lovers—his many affairs—none of them mattered. Yet, here he was, inexplicably drawn to the mortal realm, his mind unrelenting in its obsession.

He frowned, adjusting the clouds as if they were mere toys, weaving them until a small opening formed, and through it, his eyes shifted, falling upon you, far below, working amidst the bustling of Earth.

He could feel it, a stirring—a pull stronger than all his past affairs combined. How ridiculous. How utterly… human.

He narrowed his eyes, watching your movements, the way you carried yourself, completely oblivious to the eyes of a god upon you. He had taken lovers from every walk of existence, but this—this was new, and unfamiliar. For the first time, it wasn’t power or beauty that captivated him, but something else—something far more dangerous.

He ran a hand through his beard, a hint of a smile creeping onto his lips. “Perhaps I shall pay him a visit.”