Log; continued from sws
Olympus is warm and sunny - it's always warm and sunny, unless Eros' grandfather is in a snit - and Eros lands lightly on the white marble balcony and folds his wings neatly behind him as he quickly moves inside and carefully sets down the unconscious mortal vessel on a plush chaise covered in a red velvet throw.
He straightens, sighs, and folds his wings away before dropping to the floor beside Lust, or whomever this is meant to be; he hadn't even gotten the man's name before causing him to escape into unconsciousness. "I really need to stop doing that," he mutters, resting his chin on his hands. He supposes there's nothing to do but wait until he wakes up now.
He straightens, sighs, and folds his wings away before dropping to the floor beside Lust, or whomever this is meant to be; he hadn't even gotten the man's name before causing him to escape into unconsciousness. "I really need to stop doing that," he mutters, resting his chin on his hands. He supposes there's nothing to do but wait until he wakes up now.