Kaliméra
Slow breaths lead to slow movements. The morning hours are slow for us. It's these gentle moments before the day begins that we can appreciate the beauty of the life we've been given.
His breathing remains placid and slow; undisturbed. I prop myself up on my elbow to admire him at his most peaceful. He's impossibly attractive to all who meet him. His olive skin, his thick hair, peppered with glimmering silver, his muscular form, all make him stand out, but it's his striking eyes, now closed with much needed slumber, that truly make him a sight to behold. Those grayish-blues hold you in their grasp, like the calm before the storm.
I stretch slowly, disentangling myself from his grasp. He shifts ever so slightly, but remains asleep. I know I am not the only woman to ever fall asleep in those mighty arms, but he always has the words to sooth over the savage jealousy, and it was quelled long ago by my own lustful flings.
The windows are already open, allowing a warm breeze to pass unhindered, rustling through the long, draping curtains as they pass. The heavy musk of a nearby vineyard wafts in, gently exciting my senses.
I pad quietly across the carpeted floor and step out onto the balcony, blinking as my eyes adjust to the late morning sun. Below me stretches a vast expanse of vividly green grass, dotted heavily with a myriad of wildflowers, humming with slowly ambling honeybees. If another place in the Universe could be found half as enchanting as this, it would be called Paradise.
I lean against the warm railing of the balcony, contend to let my mind wander as the warm sun caresses my bare skin. I think back to the haze of the night before, when my mind was swimming in the rich indulgence of delicate wines and good company. I don't remember much, only that I was as generous with my joy as I was with wine.
A smile plays across my lips. It's pretty obvious how the evening ended, given the fact that I woke up cradled in the arms of my husband. He's the lover to so many, and I'm one of those lucky enough to know him beyond his carnal pleasure. He's so very strong, so powerful, and yet, there's a deeply vulnerable side of him that occasional peeks through just long enough to remind me that it's there.
I hear the bed creaking, but make no move to return to it. If he wants me, he will have to seek me out. I close my eyes, and tilt my face back to accept the golden rays of the sun. Moments like these remind me why it's good to be alive.
"Hera?" his voice rolls like thunder, even when he's half asleep. His footsteps echo across the room as he makes his way out onto the balcony behind me.
I hear him pause, and I know that he is admiring me from behind. The female form is his one and only weakness.
His arms wrap suddenly around my waist; I'm expecting a lusty breath of warmth to creep down my neck, but I am instead pleasantly surprised to find a calm, tender embrace.
"You know, if I had to do it all over again, I'd still choose you, my love," he whispers softly.
My lips curl upwards as my fingers drag up the side of his stubbly cheek and entwine in his hair.
"As I would you, my beloved Zeus," I respond truthfully. My wayward husband may be more than a handful at times, but one doesn't give up the love of a god for no reason.
He sighs deeply, settling his chin on my shoulder and leaning against me. Together, we stare out lazily at the stretching expanse of Olympus, content for the moment to be locked in each other's embrace.
His breathing remains placid and slow; undisturbed. I prop myself up on my elbow to admire him at his most peaceful. He's impossibly attractive to all who meet him. His olive skin, his thick hair, peppered with glimmering silver, his muscular form, all make him stand out, but it's his striking eyes, now closed with much needed slumber, that truly make him a sight to behold. Those grayish-blues hold you in their grasp, like the calm before the storm.
I stretch slowly, disentangling myself from his grasp. He shifts ever so slightly, but remains asleep. I know I am not the only woman to ever fall asleep in those mighty arms, but he always has the words to sooth over the savage jealousy, and it was quelled long ago by my own lustful flings.
The windows are already open, allowing a warm breeze to pass unhindered, rustling through the long, draping curtains as they pass. The heavy musk of a nearby vineyard wafts in, gently exciting my senses.
I pad quietly across the carpeted floor and step out onto the balcony, blinking as my eyes adjust to the late morning sun. Below me stretches a vast expanse of vividly green grass, dotted heavily with a myriad of wildflowers, humming with slowly ambling honeybees. If another place in the Universe could be found half as enchanting as this, it would be called Paradise.
I lean against the warm railing of the balcony, contend to let my mind wander as the warm sun caresses my bare skin. I think back to the haze of the night before, when my mind was swimming in the rich indulgence of delicate wines and good company. I don't remember much, only that I was as generous with my joy as I was with wine.
A smile plays across my lips. It's pretty obvious how the evening ended, given the fact that I woke up cradled in the arms of my husband. He's the lover to so many, and I'm one of those lucky enough to know him beyond his carnal pleasure. He's so very strong, so powerful, and yet, there's a deeply vulnerable side of him that occasional peeks through just long enough to remind me that it's there.
I hear the bed creaking, but make no move to return to it. If he wants me, he will have to seek me out. I close my eyes, and tilt my face back to accept the golden rays of the sun. Moments like these remind me why it's good to be alive.
"Hera?" his voice rolls like thunder, even when he's half asleep. His footsteps echo across the room as he makes his way out onto the balcony behind me.
I hear him pause, and I know that he is admiring me from behind. The female form is his one and only weakness.
His arms wrap suddenly around my waist; I'm expecting a lusty breath of warmth to creep down my neck, but I am instead pleasantly surprised to find a calm, tender embrace.
"You know, if I had to do it all over again, I'd still choose you, my love," he whispers softly.
My lips curl upwards as my fingers drag up the side of his stubbly cheek and entwine in his hair.
"As I would you, my beloved Zeus," I respond truthfully. My wayward husband may be more than a handful at times, but one doesn't give up the love of a god for no reason.
He sighs deeply, settling his chin on my shoulder and leaning against me. Together, we stare out lazily at the stretching expanse of Olympus, content for the moment to be locked in each other's embrace.
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