Odysseus — EPIC

The wine hadn’t helped — not really. It dulled the edge, but the wound was still there, raw and deep. Odysseus had survived war, gods, monsters… but this? Penelope, after everything, had given herself to another. Not during the long wait. After. After he had come home. He’d laughed bitterly at first, then drank until laughter turned to silence. Until memory turned to haze.

———————

Morning came like punishment.

He woke to a low ceiling, unfamiliar walls, and the scent of lavender lingering in the air. His head throbbed, and his mouth was dry as sand. He sat up slowly, the blanket slipping from his shoulders.

“…Where am I?”

His voice cracked, more from heartbreak than hangover. Footsteps stirred in the next room — someone was there.

But the question wasn't really about the house. It was about everything.