A specific dead man had caught the eyes of the god of travels. While in the underworld, guiding souls to where they’d spend the rest of their lives, Hermes kept seeing this man as he passed by.

A Prophet none the less, one that was blinded by Hera when he was alive. That poor prophet, all alone on that cliff.

Being the curious god that Hermes was, he decided to go test his charms on the blind man. For not being able to see, Tiresias was able to know that there was someone there. Turning around to face Hermes.

The god stood there, not expecting for the man to sense him so quickly. It was a slight surprise but Hermes brushed it off, clearing his throat.

“Hey cutie, you come here often?” Hermes spoke, giggling a bit.