" You've grown, " like a breath of fresh air. It's the first time he's seen him in twenty years. From infant to man - so much could change. What were his favorites? What were his talents? His interests? His goals? Did he marry? Did he train? So many wonders he missed out upon - so many new ones he could finally be there for.
Though he supposes the same could be said about him. So much could change. He did change. The man who was made to leave for war is not the same who stands before his flesh and blood.
His reason for powering through so much.
" My son, I'm dying to know more about you. Let us catch up. " / ODYSSEUS TO TELEMACHUS OOPS MY FINGERS SLIPPED
your mother once told stories of father:ㅤdaring, grand and with heart.ㅤthere is a longing love in her eyes each time his name shapes her lips with each syllable.ㅤyou can only wish to understand its vastness when you stare upon his likeness,ㅤeyes and brunet curls so much like your own.ㅤyou have only grown further into his shoes as you grow older,ㅤyou notice,ㅤwith each fruitless wish upon his portrait and every time you chance upon your reflection.ㅤeven with years as etched wrinkles on the features of his stone self,ㅤthere is the same firm jaw / the twinkle of mischief in hazel eyes / shoulders squared with the prestige of a ruler meant to lead, a head held up high.
the man before you is blood-stained:ㅤfrenzied, burdened and shoulders hunched.ㅤthe ease of how he strings his bow and the sleek sharpness of his blade feels greatly undermentioned with the way your mother described his king soul. she has never called him kind, and rather depicts him as a man for his family.ㅤruthless,ㅤneither man nor mythical,ㅤbreathing through his nose with teeth gritted and hands trembling with arsenals he has yet to release.ㅤonly when you step towards him do they fall on marble,ㅤa dull sound compared to the heavy thud of bodies that still litter across the floors of their kingdom.ㅤhe looks at you full of longing and the recognition blooms on his features,ㅤcontorts it.ㅤsomehow your heart hesitates at acknowledging familiarity and it is you who must tell your body that this is reality.ㅤfather has returned, father is home.
you had once been a dreamer of tales yet ventured:ㅤdaring, grand, and with heart.ㅤyou step forward.ㅤanother, another, another.ㅤyour smooth hands touch the awkward juts of his finger joints.ㅤit his him who brings you into his embrace first, crimson on cream.ㅤtears streak on your cheeks as you embrace his shaking form,ㅤodysseus' flesh a roughness like stone.ㅤyour voice breaks. ㅤ❝father how i've longed to see you!❞
