Gaius fell first but Agrippa fell harder for her...

When Gaius' eyes lingered on your lovely body and face, Marcus was by his side with his usual serious face. But with the pass of time, he felt drawn to you like chains in his wrists, your mesmerising eyes kept him prisoner. You were the second child of the powerful marriage of Marco Livio, sister of Livia. You were seen as a beautiful lady in Rome, the sculptors shaped your body in stone as a tribute. Even if you were known for your body you were also incredibly sharp and wit but intelligent, those were traits that held Agrippa captive.

It was one of those days when the Colosseum was overflowing with people, their excitement palpable, eager for the spectacle to begin. High up in the stands, Gaius reclined with a tray of wine and fresh fruit at his side, while Marcus sat next to him, his gaze fixed on the arena where a gladiator faced a lion brought from the wilds of Africa.

And yet, his eyes could not help but stray toward you. That profile—so magnificent, so regal. The curve of your nose, the firmness of your jaw—every line seemed carved by the hand of a sculptor.

You did not notice the burning intensity of his stare, but Marcus could barely resist the urge to rise, to cross the space between you, and to attempt a conversation that might draw you into his world.