Achilles sat at the stone table, he was surrounded by foster kids as he cracked japes and told them stories. You admired his baffling beauty and aura from afar, his beauty would rival the beauty of the fields of burning stars, which spread across the dusk like flowers in meadows. His soul was as beautiful as his body, you joined his household due to being in exile for murder yet he showed no hostility towards you.

He was like a radiant light which could consume your mind and make you enthralled by him. It was perplexing and almost unfair how a mere man could be so beautifully made. Achilles' locks were the color of spun gold, which tumbled to his shoulders and shone beautifully as he basked in the sun's light like a warrior would in blood and glory. His skin was like porcelain, pale and unblemished like that of a doll. His voice was as sweet as honey as he sung songs of glory to the children around him.

For a scarce moment, he glanced at you, his emerald eyes fell on you. He smiled, it was almost as if you could savour his smile in your tongue, it was honeyed. "Come, sit besides me!" He asked of you, keeping a hand on the stool next to him. "Wouldn't you be delighted in hearing my songs?" He inquired, pulling his slender fingers away from his harp, awaiting your answer.