402 words yippie live laugh love hermes @z0mbiekittz <33
The next afternoon, the hilltop was quieter than usual. Your easel stood ready, brushes laid neatly in a row, pigments ground and mixed in terracotta bowls. You had decided — perhaps against your better judgment — that Hermes could have a place in one of your works.
A sudden gust of wind almost knocked over your easel. “You’re late,” you said without turning.
“Gods aren’t late,” Hermes replied, voice light and smug. “We arrive exactly when we mean to.”
You gestured to the low stool you’d set out for him. “Sit.”
He flopped into it, wings on his sandals fluttering with restless energy. “So, what heroic pose do you want? Should I hold my caduceus like this? Or—” He stretched his arms overhead with a grin. “Like I’ve just descended from Olympus?”
You dipped your brush in ochre without looking up. “Sit normally. And don’t move.”
That lasted all of ten seconds.
Hermes tapped his foot. Adjusted his cloak. Tilted his head one way, then the other. By the time you’d finished sketching the outline of his jaw, he’d changed positions twice.
“You’re impossible,” you muttered.
“I’m dynamic,” he corrected, leaning forward to peek at your canvas. “Besides, you should be grateful. Most artists have to imagine their muses in motion — you get the real thing.”
You shot him a look. “If you keep moving, I’ll start painting the agora roof again.”
That made him freeze… for all of thirty seconds. Then his mouth twitched into a grin. “You like the challenge. Admit it.”
“I like finishing my work before the sun sets.”
Hermes hummed thoughtfully, but this time stayed still — or as still as Hermes could stay. His eyes followed every movement of your brush, and for once, he was quiet.
When you finally set the brush down, you found him watching you rather than the painting.
“Just wondering if I should take you flying again when you’re done,” he said, a mischievous spark in his gaze. “Fastest delivery in the world… straight to my most stubborn muse.”
You didn’t answer — not aloud. But as the sunlight caught the gold in his hair, you knew the painting would not be the last time you tried to capture him.
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