They call me monster. They call me death. But her gaze dubbed me frightened.

Such a man was beyond nature herself—a vision more present than the air in my lungs. An essence more carnal than the blood that rushed through my veins. A dream more tantalizing than the flower narcissus itself. She fell…

…fell in the chasm that was her beauty. Aphrodite herself would bow in her attendance. Penelope would concede to impulse, waiting to witness the untouched wisdom behind her eyes. Such luster. Such untainted intention. He was overcome. The lord of the underworld conquered. Her innocent wanting became his own.

Wanting? By all the stars in heaven, hers was an undeniable need. Need for a bond most uncontested. A worldliness unrivaled. In his tenuous touch passed the might of Hercules. In his words rang the courage of Achilles. In his features was carved the cunning of Odysseus. In front of her stood man and god. In front of her life and eternity danced. Around her…

…time held its breath for him to feel hers against his undeserving flesh. He welcomed, begged, for the moment to sample her inviting lips. It would be a taste more blissful than the most succulent fruit bore on Olympus. A fearsome creature held him with a visage most pure. He was ruler of realm, yet hesitated to take what was his. With her company dichotomy split his being. Heart and…

…mind stood conflicted. Farewell was at hand. She climbed to her toes, hands gripping at his neck, body merging with his. In that moment…

…fear had no quarter. The world burned in passion’s wake. Being was…

…set ablaze. She was…

…immortal. He was…

…mortal. He held her as tenderly as one would a rose…

…Kissed him as lovingly as the tepid sun did the frosty sea. Then, she was whispered away…

…Back to reality. Away from their…

…their dream.