Sorry, I Hurt You: Zayne Edition

Premise: You hurt him with your words and instantly regretted it, tearing up for the things you said, things you could not take back. But in that moment, all he sees is the love you have for him. Inspired by this request. Pairing:Reader x Zayne Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship for this fic. If you would react to this situation differently by saying you would not hurt him, you would not argue, then please know that this fic may not be for you. Life happens and different people react differently. A reader tag isnt a generalisation for this fic. Let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist. Content warning: Angst, arguments, hurt/comfort, tears.

Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition | Xavier Edition | Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition

Zayne had promised to meet you at 7 p.m., a rare evening carved out of his relentless schedule. But, as always, the world seemed to conspire against you.

At 6:34 p.m., your phone buzzed.

Zayne: Emergency surgery. I’ll be late. I am sorry.

The message was short and direct, like every other text you’d received when he was busy. Not that you minded, because you knew he would be indulgent when he had the time with his gifs and emoji.

You sighed, staring at the glowing screen. Of course, it wasn’t his fault—his job was important, lives depended on him. You knew that. You always knew that. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

You: How late?

You waited, watching the little "typing…" bubble appear and disappear a few times before his reply came in.

Zayne: I’m not sure.

You: Ill wait for you, Dr. Zayne 😉

The knot in your chest tightened. You tossed your phone onto the coffee table and leaned back against the couch, staring at the clock on the wall. 7:00 p.m. came and went. By 8:30, the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the room in shades of blue and gray. By 10:00, your patience was fraying.

Your thoughts spiraled. You couldn’t even remember the last time the two of you spent more than a few uninterrupted hours together. If it wasn’t the hospital, it was a conference, or research, or some far-flung medical camp in the middle of nowhere. You understood—he wasn’t just a doctor, he was the doctor, the youngest cardiologist in Linkon City, and his work saved lives. But no amount of understanding could temper the weight of the empty hours that stretched between you tonight. It wasn’t just tonight. This was a pattern, a cycle you’d grown used to but never quite accepted.

But waiting was a lonely affair. Life had been stressful for you, too. Work, finances, personal struggles—everything felt like it was crashing down. And now, the one person you longed to lean on, to feel close to, seemed so far away. Was it selfish to want his presence? To crave a moment of his time? You didn’t know anymore. All you knew was that you missed him. Missed you both.

By midnight, the frustration was a storm you couldn’t contain. You told yourself you’d wait but every tick of the analog clock that Zayne liked was like chalk grating against the blackboard. :00 a.m. The city outside your window was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of passing cars. 1:45 a.m. The words you wanted to say twisted in your chest, growing heavier. 2:23 a.m. The lock turned.

The sound of the lock turning startled you. Zayne stepped inside, his movements deliberate and quiet as he placed his bag down and shrugged off his coat.

“You’re awake…” he said softly, his sharp eyes flicking to you as you sat up on the couch.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice flat. “I’ve been waiting. I wanted to see you. How was the surgery?”

“It went well,” he said simply. “Complicated, but the patient stabilized.”

“That’s good,” you said, your voice tight. “Have you eaten anything?”

He shook his head. “I grabbed something at the hospital earlier. I’m fine.”

Fine. He always said that. No matter how long the day, no matter how much he’d pushed himself, it was always, I’m fine.

“Zayne…” you began, your tone already edged with the frustration simmering beneath the surface. “You’ve been on your feet for hours. You need to take care of yourself too, you know.”

“I do,” he replied, his tone even, almost dismissive. “We can talk about it tomorrow. You should get some rest.”

And there it was—the spark that lit the fire.

“Rest?” You repeated the word, your voice incredulous. “You think I can just ‘rest’ after sitting here for hours waiting for you? Do you even realize what this feels like, Zayne? It’s like I don’t even exist in your life anymore!”

His brows furrowed at your outburst, a hint of confusion on his face.

“I know your job is important,” you continued, your voice shaking. “I know what you do saves lives, and I’ve tried so hard to be understanding. But do you have any idea what it’s like to feel like you’re always second? To feel like you’re not even a priority?”

“Wait.” he interjected, his tone calm but firm. “I didn’t say you weren’t a priority—”

“No, you didn’t say it,” you interrupted, your anger flaring hotter now. “But it feels that way, Zayne. Every time you miss a dinner, every time you come home at some ungodly hour, it feels like I’m just… here. Waiting. Always waiting. Do you even realize how long it’s been since we’ve had a real conversation? Since we’ve actually spent time together?”

His brows furrowed deeper. “You know my job doesn’t exactly allow for flexibility.”

“Your job,” you spat, the words laced with bitterness. “It’s always about your job. And I get it, okay? I do. You’re saving lives, and that’s incredible. But when was the last time you asked about mine?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance. The words poured out, sharp and unrelenting.

“Do you have any idea how lonely it’s been? I’m not even sure I’m a part of your life anymore!”

The moment the words left your mouth, you saw the shock flicker across his face. His usually stoic expression cracked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Your heart thudded painfully as the weight of what you’d said sank in. “Zayne, I—” Your voice faltered, tears welling up. “I didn’t mean that. I swear I didn’t mean that.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, his silence somehow heavier than any words he could’ve spoken.

The room fell silent except for the quiet hitch of your breath. You pressed your palms to your eyes, trying to stem the tears, but they came anyway, hot and unstoppable.

Your chest tightened as the tears spilled over. “I’m sorry…” you choked out, the apology tumbling from your lips. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just… I don’t know. Everything’s been so overwhelming, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I know how much your work means to you, I really do. I’m just… I’m tired, Zayne.”

ZAYNE’S POV

Her words hung in the air, each one slicing deeper than the last. I’m not even sure I’m a part of your life anymore.

Was that really how she felt? Had he really been so consumed by his work that he’d made her feel this way?

He swallowed hard, guilt tightening in his chest. Of course, she was right. He’d assumed her silence meant she understood, that she was okay with the late nights and missed dates. But now, looking at her, he realized just how deeply he’d been wrong.

And then came her tears.

He’d seen people cry before—patients, families, even his colleagues. But her tears were different. They weren’t just borne of hurt; they carried guilt, love, and something raw and unfiltered. She wasn’t angry at him. She was hurting for him, even as she blamed herself. “I’m not making excuses. I just... I’ve been trying to be strong for so long, trying to understand, but tonight... I just felt... alone. I didn’t mean it. I swear. You don’t deserve to hear that from me. I love you so much, and I feel terrible for even saying something so awful.”

The anger in her voice born from exhaustion, frustration, a sense of abandonment, had shocked him, yes. But now, as her words turned to apologies, all he could see was how deeply she cared for him. Through the raw tears, through the pain and self-accusation in her voice, all he could see was how much she loved him. It was clear as day, even when she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, even as she buried her face in her hands.

Her words tumbled out in a rush, desperate, as though she needed to undo everything with an apology. She wasn’t angry anymore, no. She was so sorry, and it hurt him more than anything else could. He felt his heart crack, the guilt swirling like a blizzard, and without thinking, he moved toward her, instinct pulling him into action.

“Don’t cry...” he murmured, stepping closer. His voice was softer now, tinged with something almost fragile.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, her words tumbling over each other. “I didn’t mean it, Zayne. I swear, I didn’t mean it. I just—tonight was hard, and I—”

“Stop.” His hands came up to gently frame her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that refused to stop. “You don’t have to apologize.” The way her shoulders shook with each sob, the desperation in her voice—it all spoke of someone who loved so fiercely that even the slightest hint of causing harm to the one she loved shattered her entirely.

“But I do,” she insisted, her voice cracking. “I was upset, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to say something like that to you. You didn’t deserve it. I’m so sorry, Zayne. I didn’t mean it. I swear, I didn’t mean it. I’m just… so tired, and everything feels so heavy. I know how much your work means to you. I know it’s important, but… but I said those things, and that’s not okay.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and it cut through him like a scalpel. The rawness of her pain, the way her hands shook as she tried to wipe away her tears—it gutted him. He stepped closer and gently took her hands, stilling their movement. “Stop,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Please, stop apologizing.”

But she didn’t. She kept going, as if she needed him to hear every ounce of her sorrow, every misplaced thought born from exhaustion and frustration. “Just because I’m in a bad place doesn’t mean I can take it out on you. It doesn’t make it okay to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry—”

“Enough,” Zayne said, firmer this time, his hands tightening around hers. He closed the distance between them, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes searched hers, even as his own unshed tears blurred his vision. “I hear you. And I forgive you. You don’t need to say another word. You are important to me. Do you hear me? You always have been.”

He pulled her into his arms, and for a moment, the world outside disappeared. The tension in her body melted into his embrace as he cradled her close. He felt her sobs against his chest, the dampness of her tears seeping through his shirt, and his heart ached in a way that no medical textbook could ever describe. It was a mix of regret, love, and an overwhelming need to protect the person in his arms.

When he tilted her face up to his, his thumb brushing tenderly over her cheek to catch the fresh tears, his lips found hers in a kiss that spoke the words he couldn’t say. It wasn’t rushed or hurried, but deep and deliberate—a melding of emotions. He tasted the salt of her tears, felt the softness of her lips trembling against his. His hand cupped the back of her head, holding her there as if letting go might shatter everything. It wasn’t about passion, not this time. It was a deep, desperate need to remind her, remind himself, that she was still here. That no matter how far he had drifted, they were still together.

This is how much she loves me, Zayne thought, as her lips pressed harder against his, the urgency building. This is how much she needs me. Even when she’s hurting, even when she’s angry, she still reaches for me, still tries to make things right.

In that moment, everything was stripped bare. There were no walls, no facades. Just him and her. His kiss was a vow, an apology, and a promise all at once. When he finally pulled back, his lips still ghosting over hers, he murmured, “I’ve been a fool. I am sorry too. I should have been here, with you. I should have made time for you.”

Her eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering through the tears. “Zayne—”

“All these days, I thought I was going home after work,” he continued, his voice low and weighted with emotion. “But it wasn’t home. It was just a house. This… this is home. You’re my home.”

The words hung in the air between them, raw and unfiltered. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, his hands still framing her face. “I’m taking the weekend off. No conferences, no surgeries, no calls. Just us.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped her. “You mean it?”

“I do,” he said, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “Even if I have to tie myself to this couch to prove it.”

She chuckled softly, and he felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“I miss you,” he said finally, his voice breaking the stillness. “I miss us. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t important. You are. You’re everything.” And that was the truth. All that mattered now was her. She was his home, his heart, his everything. And he would make sure she knew that every single day.

A soft sigh of relief escaped her, and she relaxed into him, the tension in her body finally easing. And Zayne, for the first time in a long while, allowed himself to rest. He closed his eyes, listening to her heartbeat against his chest, and he knew that no matter what else life brought him, this was all he needed. This was home.

And he was never going to let her feel unimportant again.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition | Xavier Edition | Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition

Taglist: @cordidy

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xavierfrogprincess

1 month ago

"Wake up, Osamu..."

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xavierfrogprincess

1 month ago

Absence Makes The Heart

Xavier had really done it now.

You were used to him disappearing for hours, for days, sometimes even for weeks, all with no contact. This time, he’d been gone a whole month. And you vowed, if he wasn’t already dead, you’d kill him. Or worse. You’d simply disappear yourself. See how he liked it.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xavier couldn’t find you.

At first, he thought you’d simply wandered off again. You had a tendency to be distracted by every street performer you heard, every afternoon market you passed by, every shop display you laid eyes on; any time there was anything that had life, that had shine, you were there, paying your time and attention to it. And he took great pride in being the only person who could find you, each and every time. Maybe you’d posted a picture of your coffee and he’d caught a glimpse of a partial store sign in the background. Maybe you’d mention that you were stuck in abnormally high traffic and he remembered a parade nearby. But either way, rain or shine, he’d find you, like it was always fate’s intention to have you back in his arms.

But not today.

Today, it’d been three hours, forty-six minutes, and seventeen seconds, and he still could not find you. He was getting desperate. He’d been gone for an entire month and had done nothing but imagine the glow in your eyes or the curve of your smile when you finally welcomed him home. He never imagined that maybe one day he’d come home and you wouldn’t be there.

He hoped he was just imagining things when he got a notice that your last transaction was a large withdrawal of cash; he prayed that there was still time for you to stumble through the doors, grinning sheepishly, as you admitted you’d caved and bought a farm, or something of the sort. But the clock ticked away, the sun set and rose and then set again, and you still weren’t home.

He lay on your bed, trying to will you into existence beside him, as he clung to the lingering scent of shampoo in your sheets. He stared up at the ceiling, letting his thoughts consume him, not bothering to get up even to humor his growling stomach.

Why had he stayed away so long? He couldn’t seem to remember now. There was always something for him to tend to, something that couldn’t wait, something that only he could do, but now, as he lay in your empty apartment, missing your warmth, missing your light, he wondered what it was that could’ve been so important that he couldn’t spare the time to check in and reassure you that he was okay. To reassure him that you were okay. And now he had no idea if you were even alive.

You wouldn’t answer his calls, you wouldn’t answer his texts. He wasn’t even sure you had your phone on you, because he couldn’t track your movements. What were you doing? Where were you going? What were you thinking? Were you mad at him? Of course you were mad at him. You always hated how he had a tendency to take on the world by himself, how he took risks no one else would take and carried burdens no one else would shoulder.

Wherever you were, however far you’d gone, he hoped that you were okay and that you still had room in your heart to forgive him. You were always forgiving him. Forgiving him for taking the last dumpling, forgiving him for oversleeping and missing your breakfast date, forgiving him for hiding his wounds from you. Of course, you gave your forgiveness in exchange for pinky promises of better behavior and bribery, but you’d always forgive him at the end of the day nonetheless. He wondered if you’d still forgive him now. Or if your forgiveness had an expiration date and he was just one month too late.

When a week passed and you still hadn’t contacted him, he started to lose his mind. He was used to being alone, from going on missions alone, to traveling the soundless, boundless expanse of deep space alone, with his thoughts as his only constant companion. But you were always at the end of that path. You were always where he was trying to go, who he was trying to save. And now he was completely without you. And he had no idea what to do with himself. He swore to himself that if he ever saw you again, he would never leave your side. He would plant himself beside you, breathe when you breathed, walk when you walked, and be no farther from you than your own shadow; it was decided. Now, if only you’d show up.

Frustrated by his own helplessness, he plopped down onto your couch, nestling himself among your many plushies. He looked at them for a moment, remembering the moment he’d won them all for you. You’d thrown your arms around his neck, beaming brightly, before declaring to everyone in the arcade that “Xavier’s the absolute BEST!” He smiled as he remembered the way he’d carried you in his arms like the bride he’d always intended for you to be, with the plushies sitting all snug on your stomach. Now he lay beside them, feeling a sense of loss.

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” He asked a nearby teddy bear.

He took the bear’s lack of response as a sign to continue. “I see now why she hates when I leave without her. This…this is terrible.”

The bear gazed on in what Xavier could only assume was sympathy.

Xavier sighed. “Do you think she hates me now?”

The bear remained silent.

Xavier slumped.

Then his phone beeped and nearly shattered the sound barrier. He’d been moping in silence all week and now that silence had finally been broken. He scrambled for his phone in an instant, almost dropping it in the process.

His screen only displayed one word: No.

He blinked at it. “No? What does that mean? No…you aren’t coming home? No, what?” He murmured to himself as he pondered the mysterious text.

Another beep. No, I don’t hate you.

His eyes widened. He looked down at the bear.

“You know something, don’t you?”

Silence.

Trying to hide his smile, Xavier then flopped back against the cushions, using his arm as a shield over his face before proclaiming, “It’s a shame that I have no way of communicating with Y/N. I was just thinking I’d make her favorite meal for dinner.”

No response.

Maybe she knew that despite his best intentions, whether it was her favorite or not, whether it was her kitchen or his, all his cooked meals had the same end result. Maybe it wasn’t enticing enough for her.

“I suppose I could just eat these plushies for dinner. There’s no one around to stop me if I just decided to chop them up into pieces and boil them into a stew.” He teased.

His phone beeped. You’re resorting to threats now?

He grinned at the bear, his eyes now finding the nanny camera that had been oh-so-carefully transplanted onto one of its buttons. “So, you coming home now?”

Are you sorry?

His eyes softened. “I am. Very sorry.”

You won’t do it again?

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… I’ll do my best next-”

Xav. You won’t do it again. Or the next time I’m gone, it’ll be for much longer than a week.

He gave a resigned sigh before smiling again. “Alright, I won’t do it again. I won’t leave unless I talk with you first and I’ll take you with if I can.” He held his breath as he awaited your response.

The seconds felt like eons and the eons just reminded him of the space between the two of you. He wished he was holding you instead of clinging to your plushies for even a hint of your scent. He didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t come home soon. If you didn’t answer him. If you didn’t forgive him.

Fine, good enough. But stay out of my kitchen; you set it on fire last time. I’ll make dinner.

He let out a breath of relief.

You were coming home at long last.

Ko-fi

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xavierfrogprincess

1 month ago

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon

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xavierfrogprincess

1 month ago

So... at first it started out as a comic idea for my college work and then when i developed the idea to a story to write a script for college work purpose...

Tell me how did my college work turned into a short xavier fanfic with a script and comic idea .. and its angst . I never have written this type of angst ever or even angst ever.... how the hell is this man single handedly made my college work about him? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?

Not complaining though... cuz i made him sit there with me for 4 hours as i finished off my story and script 🥰🫡🥹🥹

Its 3 37 am. . Someone send help.😀🫡

Btw... a short note... was trying to pull for Xavier 5 star card but instead got Sylus's birthday card... not complaining but ya ... 🙃🫠 need to save up for lumiere rerunsssss😊🤪

Can you...

Read 📖⬅⬅

...give me one last kiss?

🎵 One Last Kiss - Utada Hikaru 🎵

===

Just in time before Dec 7... another song lyric inspired piece இ௰இ I can't tell if my heart is ready or not

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xavierfrogprincess

1 month ago

Bunny!Xavier and his strange affectionate habits

there’s always something new with your bunny boyfriend. his habits are so strange!

✎ᝰ a/n: i guess this is a series now lmao. if i were to do zayne or caleb, what animals would they even be. cat and dog? we’ll have to figure this out >_>

dragon sylus version

mermaid rafayel version

𖤐

❥ he nibbles on you! it’s gotten to be a little bit of a problem, but xavier can’t help himself. he’ll nibble on your skin and hair until there are tiny little red marks painted on you. at first you thought these were little hickeys, but the real explanation is much more innocent.

bunnies nibble to groom you! he’ll especially groom you when you’re bed rotting or are too lazy to get up. he wants to make sure you’re clean and if you’re not taking care of yourself — he will! but he also nibbles to get your attention. xavier is known to be pouty and clingy, so if he’s low on your love today he’ll forcefully sit on your lap and nibble on your face until you give in.

❥ he hides in your hair. whenever xavier feels overwhelmed or stressed, he’ll go straight to you and dig his head in your hair. it’s a combination of your scent and your shielding hair strands that gives him a sense of safety. he likes the way your hair feels against his skin along with the way it keeps him warm.

but still — wet, dry, tangled, brushed; he really doesn’t care what your hair is looking like, as long as he can bury his nose in your scalp and close his eyes. this also makes for a good cuddling session!

❥ he eats everything. xavier has the appetite of three elephants and then another three elephants. whether he can cook or not is irrelevant, even if he burns something to the point of it being inedible, he’ll still eat it. snacks you’ve saved for later or baked good you’ve left out gets gobbled immediately by him, and it was only ‘til you scolded him that he stopped. stopped taking you food that is, he’ll still beg.

if he smells a meal in the house he’ll quickly sit next to you and smile silently, hoping that you’ll spare him a piece. he’s learned to be less greedy, go easy on him — but he’ll become extremely elated if you give him a quick nibble. he wouldn’t even ask for a full piece of chicken or bread, just a little slither is enough to keep him happy. he thinks of eating together as bonding.

❥ he mimics you. sometimes consciously, mostly unconsciously, xavier will pick up and mimic your habits. if you have a habit of playing with your hair, xavier will also start playing with his hair to mirror you. if you touch your necklace in thought, xavier will also touch his imaginary necklace while he thinks. it wasn’t until he picked up on your manner of sneezing that you realized you left an impression on him.

you didn’t say anything at first: finding it rather endearing how xavier unknowingly imitates you. but once you brought it up in passing xavier tilted his head in confusion. did he really mimic you that much? he was a little oblivious to that fact, apparently. but even with that realization, xavier doesn’t try and stop himself learning from you. in fact, he tries to tease you by imitating you even more. he loves being like you because he simply just loves you.

❥ he teases you with his ears. xavier knows how much you love his ears, so he’ll use them to his advantage to play. when you’re asleep and he wants you awake, he’ll climb the bed, lean into your face, and move one of his ears over your cheek to stir you awake. in a similar fashion, he’ll use his ears to wrap around your head or wrist as another way to embrace you. the fluffy feel of his ears was always welcome on your skin, it felt like a hug from a pillow.

but by far his favourite way to use his ears on you was when he lightly traced your midsection and thighs with the very tips of his fluff. it tickles you slightly, but the purpose of this tease was to get you riled up and beg for a little more contact. he obliges, of course, but slowly. he loves taking his time with you. by the end of it all, his ears around wrapped around your thighs as he satiates his hunger in a different way this time.

❥ he claps when he’s happy. this can be mistaken as a normal human habit, but xavier does it much more often and eagerly than any regular person. his hands will patter together rapidly to create a very quiet but joyful sound. he has no “normal” way of clapping, he only does it in one specific way to show how content he is. if he thinks the sound is too distracting for the moment, he’ll hide his hands behind his back and pitter-patter them there.

even over small things like finding his favourite ramen in-stock at the store, he’ll clap very quietly to himself before putting it in the cart, and later on, when he gets to show you what he got from the store, he’ll start clapping again from how happy he is to share his excitement. as reserved as he is on the outside, xavier is very chipper on the inside.

𖤐

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xavierfrogprincess

1 month ago

11.11 ~ Pocky Day

Read ⬇ then ⬅ (I'm sorry, I know my doodle formats are all over the place every time X'D)

=====

A little continuation from a doodle back when Unique Aftertaste was announced. Just so happen that it's also 11.11 atm, aka Pocky Day (in Japan) xd

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xavierfrogprincess

1 month ago

After the Ithaca Saga, I believe that Odysseus thought he and Athena were officially done forever and would only occasionally see each other because she was mentoring Telemachus now. He really thinks there's no way they can reconnect anymore and attempt at a friendship this time, but he's fine with it, he can accept it.

That is until Telemachus goes up to him one day like:

"Hey father, can I ask you something?"

"Yes son, of course."

"You mentored under Athena before right? Do you happen to know a friend of hers?"

"Oh I... I wasn't aware Athena had friends before. She was very adamant about that "No Friends" rule back then... kind of stings."

"Oh really? She talks about him a lot."

"Does she now? *mumbling* must be so special about this fRieNd of Athena..."

"Yeah she told me about this one time he wanted to impress someone, so he climbed on all the way to the tree branch next to the balcony of their room and leaned against the trunk to look cool, but he kept talking to Athena in her owl appearance so he didn't notice the other person going to the balcony and he got so spooked when they called out to him, he turned too fast and lost balance, slipped, smacked his ass on the tree branch and broke his arm when he fell, so he had to wear a sling for 3 months and couldn't sit down for 2 weeks."

"....call Athena right now."

"Why-"

"ATHENA!!!"

The second Athena appeared, Odysseus threw himself at her, on one hand going "YOU CONSIDER ME YOUR FRIEND WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO!?!?!?!" and on the other going "WHY ARE YOU TELLING MY SON ALL MY EMBARRASSING STORIES!?!?! THAT WAS BETWEEN ME, PENELOPE AND YOU!!"

He was actually crying. Athena has absolutely no idea what is happening or what she should do. Telemachus just discovered a whole new side of his dad and might know where he gets it from now....

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