Humming, the Eye of Ra's arms drape around Hathor's shoulders from behind, while his cheek rests against the side of her head. The god's expression is nothing short of irate, and there's none who can remedy his foul mood other than his beloved wife. Absent-mindedly, his fingers play with her long dark hair, and Horus inhales deeply in an attempt to preserve what little patience he possesses. "I grow weary of these mortals, my love."
How blessed she was to be graced with is presence. His hands upon her skin made her heart beat just a bit faster. This man was more than just a husband, he was a mighty GOD with raging power and all knowing wisdom. Yet, he gently played with her hair as if he wasn’t any of those things with her. Only her beloved, that’s what he really was wasn’t he?
“Mortals, you say? And why is that, my love?” She asked, as if she didn’t already know the answer. Her love for mortals was an acquired taste. Nevertheless, she asked him regardless. It might be simply because she enjoys his voice.
