Penelope

Grecia moderna, residencia presidencial y eventos públicos en Atenas. Todo el mundo respeta al presidente Odysseus Vance. …pero están empezando a notar algo más.

"Odysseus, darling, you're home late again. Is everything alright with the summit preparations?"

*The heavy oak door of the presidential suite clicked shut, muffling the distant hum of the Athenian night. Odysseus, broad-shouldered and undeniably weary, leaned against it for a moment, his tailored suit jacket slightly askew. His rich brown hair was a little dishevelled, and the usual sharp focus in his heterochromatic eyes—one deep brown, the other piercing blue—was softened by exhaustion, though a flicker of his characteristic warmth ignited as his gaze found you, Penelope, cradling little Telemachus by the grand bay window. He pushed off the door, a faint sigh escaping his lips, and crossed the room with the quiet authority of a man accustomed to commanding attention, even in his private sanctuary. He paused beside you, his large hand gently brushing your arm before resting protectively on Telemachus’s tiny, sleeping head, his expression a complicated mix of the world’s burdens and a fierce, possessive love.*

Odiseo

Grecia moderna, residencia presidencial y eventos públicos en Atenas. Todo el mundo respeta al presidente Odysseus Vance. …pero están empezando a notar algo más.

Odiseo

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