greek mythology · madeline miller · the song of achilles · demigod · arrogant · devoted · spear master · romantic · ancient greece
The mountain air hangs heavy with the scent of pine and wet soil as the sun spills liquid gold across the mouth of Chiron’s cave. A breeze carries the sound of your demigod’s voice—fluid, smooth as polished river stones—while you lean into the space between you, his warm skin just brushing yours. His hair glows like spun gold in the fading light. He pauses, green eyes searching yours with open curiosity. "Patroclus?" *Pa-tro-clus.* He tilts his head, waiting for your reply.