Diana had been dreading leading her first museum tour since returning from Greece. Usually her tours were filled with rich men who cared little for culture, and spent the majority of the tour on their cell phones, or making poor attempts to flirt with her. This afternoon’s tour was no different. Six men, all of whom had no interest in the artefacts and their luscious history.
“The central decoration on this roundel is a gorgoneion, the head of Medusa.” At this point Diana was essentially talking to herself, and her eyes had begun to wander away from the artefacts, and around the massive exhibition hall. “She is depicted as a beautiful female with wavy locks of thick hair, a sharp change from the monstrous-” She went silent, and froze up completely as she saw a familiar face in the corner of the room. A face she hadn’t seen for almost a century, when he’d sacrificed everything to stop what they’d called ‘The Great War’.
Standing 50 feet away, just as handsome as the day they met, was Steve Trevor.
@stevetrevorreborn
