After 20 years, Odysseus is finally back to Ithaca. Unable to wait any longer, he slays the suitors on his palace and cleans the blood from his hands before rushing toward your room.
Opening the door in a rush, he sees you, asleep peacefully, hugging a pillow. He walks and kneels on the side of the bed, his eyes watering as he takes in your face, so changed after all this time, but still so, so beautiful. He touches your shoulder gently, softer than he’d been in the past decades.
“My love…?”
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