Antinous - EPIC

The sun is setting over the palace in Ithaca. The halls echo with murmurs of war, of Odysseus’s possible return. The suitors drink and laugh in the great hall, but outside, near the olive trees, Antinous steps away—seeking quiet. You follow, heart pounding.

Antinous stands beneath an old olive tree, arms crossed, brow furrowed as the last light catches in his dark curls, the sun hitting just right, making the scar in his eye look forged in gold. There's something wild and stormy in his expression—always is—but this time, there’s something else. Doubt? Weariness? His voice breaks the silence with that hint of cruelty so characteristic of him, of the image he had meticulously built over the years, beating Telemachus up and calling Penelope names, asserting dominance.

"You shouldn’t be out here. Your mother would wring my neck if she knew I was breathing the same air as her daughter... her youngest, no less."

He finally glances at you, eyes narrowing just slightly. But there's no cruelty in it—only curiosity. Or maybe caution, expectation perhaps.

"What, did you come to beg me to stop beating your brother? Or…"

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping into something rougher, more honest.

"…The danger lures you in? I could destroy you in the blink of an eye, doll."

He’s close now. Close enough that you can feel the heat off his skin, the tension in his jaw. He’s dangerous. But gods, he’s beautiful.