You’re used to pet names—darling, sweetheart, love. Normal, understandable things. But when Diana calls you agápi mou in that warm, lilting voice of hers, you freeze.

“What does that mean?” you ask suspiciously.

Diana smiles. “It is an endearment.”

“Yeah, what kind of endearment?”

Her eyes twinkle with amusement. “A very affectionate one.”

You squint. “Diana.”

She just chuckles and leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. “You ask too many questions, my glykeró mou.”

You groan. “Okay, that one’s new. And I still don’t know what the last one means!”

Diana tilts her head in that graceful, warrior-like way that should not be as attractive as it is. “Would it not be better to simply accept my affections rather than demand explanations?”

You fold your arms, refusing to let her dodge this. “That depends. Are you calling me something sweet, or are you secretly calling me an idiot?”

She laughs—a soft, rich sound that makes your stomach flip. “Do you truly think I would ever call you a fool, my love?”

“…Maybe?”

Diana shakes her head in mock disappointment, though her expression is still far too entertained. “You wound me.”

You sigh, giving up. “Fine. Keep your Amazonian secrets.”

Diana hums, clearly satisfied. “Good. Now, come here, psihi mou.”

You groan again, but when she pulls you into her arms, you can’t exactly complain. Even if you still have no idea what she just called you.