Page 7 of A Contemporary Mythos Valentine's
“I—they must’ve given us the honeymoon suite by mistake.” Elani ran her hands down her face and turned circles. “IswearI didn’t book this on purpose.”
“By Olympus. I didn’t know Greece even contained anything this cheesy.”
Elani whimpered and slapped her hands on her head.
She looked on the verge of tears, and I quickly turned her to face me, rubbing her shoulders. “Sweetheart, it’s fine. We’ll call downstairs and ask if they have a less—intricate room.” My nostril bounced as I gazed around the room. “No big deal.”
Elani nodded before gasping as she turned to look out the balcony window. As she whipped open the French-style doors leading outside, I scooped the phone receiver into my hand.
“Hi. Yes. We’re in room three eleven and wondered if you had anything else available. My wife says she didn’t mean to book this uh—I assume it’s a honeymoon suite?” I plucked at the phone’s chord, spying Elani out on the balcony turning circles with her eyes closed.
“Apologies for the mix-up, sir, but we’re all booked up. Valentine’s Day rush and all. Are the amenities not to your liking?”
Letting out a deep sigh, I maintained focus on how serene Elani looked on the balcony. “Know what? It’s fine. This will suit us just fine.” After hanging up, I joined her outside, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind.
“Do youseethis view, Eros?” She rubbed my forearms and nestled against my chest.
Nighttime had blanketed the sky with darkness and stars, the moon shining bright and nearly full. They’d dimmed the lights of surrounding buildings, allowing the sky’s natural wonder to reflect in the surrounding sea.
“It’s certainly better out here than in there,” I mumbled against her cheek.
Laughing, she playfully swatted my arm. “Let’s drink coffee out here and enjoy each other’s company for a few minutes? Without fear of getting oatmeal in our eyes or keeping wing duty?”
“You got it.” After hugging her tighter against me, I made two mugs of steaming coffee appear on the small patio table.
Elani kicked off her sandals and curled her feet underneath her as she took a seat on the blue and white striped couch. Sitting next to her, I rested my free hand on her thigh, and as she stared into the moonlit sky, she made absent circles on the back of my head with her nails.
* * *
E L A N I
“Do you think they’ll make art of us one day, Eros? Or have those days long past where mortals still depict gods in their eyes?” I scraped my nails over his scalp, tilting my head to one side as I watched his satisfied reaction to my touch.
His eyes were closed, and a moan vibrated from his throat. “I couldn’t tell you, sweetheart. I’d like to say they would, but there’d be no way of them knowing of all these new goddesses as of late.”
Frowning, I traced his soft hair between my fingers. “I hadn’t thought about that. I’m almost tempted to reach out to some of the more popular artists to suggest new characters.” I chuckled, making Eros’s head bounce on my lap.
“Popular artists?” He opened his eyes and tilted his head back to look at me.
Nodding, I kneaded the base of his skull. “Yeah. There’s one calledLoreOlympus. Have you not heard of it?”
He shook his head and closed his eyes, his fingers making lazy circles on the top of my knee.
“The artist has created this entire vision and outlook of the gods from their point of view.”
He opened one eye to peek at me. “Am I in this?”
Biting back a smile, I tapped the tip of his nose. “Yes.”
“Am I charming and oozing with sex appeal?” He kept one eye open as he stared at me.
There was no containing the grin now as it pulled over my lips. “Yes. And you’re purple.”
His gaze shifted to stare out in front of him, and he slow-blinked. “Good enough for me.”
Chuckling, I reached for my coffee to sip as I allowed myself to get lost in the star-lit Greek sky on display. “Do you remember how Greece used to look compared to now?”
Eros sat up and pulled my feet into his lap. “Yes, but this particular island invokes sadness when I think back on how the topography ended up this way.” He waved his hand horizontally in front of us, and the view changed—no houses. Only the rock formations remained untouched. “The volcanic eruption was more powerful than even Pompeii. They equated it to forty atomic bombs.” He dropped his hand, returning the modern Santorini view. His thumbs kneaded the middle of my foot.
