The Mouse and The Monarch

42

Callisto said Zeus always let them go home before a mission got serious.

She guessed it was to say goodbye to their families.

Tie up loose ends just in case.

Ophelia dropped her head back, letting her chestnut locks tickle her neck.

The coarse grains of sand moulded to the arches of her bare feet as she anchored herself against the relentless pull of the waves crashing on the shore of the island.

Her mind was in a frenzy after training.

She tried not to sigh out loud as she remembered how her angry Colonel had been beating the shit out of a punching bag, far, far away from her.

He wasn't good at vulnerability, so she had left and wandered down to the beach to sink her feet in the sand.

The dark blue expanse of the ocean churned before her, mirroring the storm clouds hanging heavy in the sky.

Grey and brooding, the clouds seemed to echo the tempest brewing within her own mind.

She had never missed someone before.

It kind of hurt.

Storms had always held a special place in Ophelia's heart.

They were her sanctuary, a source of calm amidst life's chaos.

The howling wind whispered secrets to her soul, and the air, charged with the scent of salt, invigorated her senses.

It was a dance between nature's fury and her own inner peace, a paradox she embraced with open arms.

With her eyes closed, Ophelia leaned back on her hands, relishing the feeling of the gritty sand beneath her palms.

The rhythmic melody of the crashing waves played a soothing symphony, drowning out the noise in her mind.

In cargo pants and a training singlet, she revelled in the freedom of the open beach, her bare arms coated with a delicate layer of salt and sand.

The subtle sound of footsteps approached, and she sensed him before she saw him.

König.

He seemed to navigate the fine line between wanting to remain concealed and yearning to be seen.

She always knew when he was close.

With her eyes still closed, she absorbed the symphony of the storm and the anticipation of his approach.

His deep, smooth voice cut through the sound of crashing waves, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Looks like a storm," he remarked, his words carrying no emotion as usual.

A small, serene smile played on Ophelia's lips as she continued to bask in the cold air.

"It will," she replied softly, her words carried away by the wind.

"You can smell it." Her hand patted the sand beside her, an unspoken invitation for him to join her.

There was a seamless transition as König accepted her unspoken invitation, settling into the sand beside her without a shuffle of hesitation or a hint of reservation.

She could have grinned.

They were so ingrained in each other that there was no pause any more, no hesitation or worry.

Ophelia could feel his massive form, a sturdy presence that resonated beside her.

The distinct aroma of sandalwood wafted through the air, clinging to him like a subtle signature.