|| Steven Grant vs. You : III ||
A tiny story where you discover that your sweet, handsome coworker is just as much into Egyptology as you are into ancient Greece- and the playful battle that ensues.
PART I - PART II - PART III
Word Count: 2.9K
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Read this on A03!
Referenced works- Hesiod. Theogony and Works and Days (Oxford World's Classics) OUP Oxford. Richard Mayde. Ancient Egypt, Dodd, Mead Gerald D. Waxman, Astronomical Tidbits: A Layperson's Guide to Astronomy
Let us begin our singing. It will haunt this great and holy mountain, and we will dance on our soft feet round the violet-dark spring and the altar of the mighty son of Kronos. We will bathe our gentle skin in Permessos. Then, on the highest slope we will make our dances, fair and lovely, stepping lively in time. From there we go forth, veiled in thick mist, and walk by night, uttering beautiful voice.Â
So said mighty Zeusâ daughters, they breathed into me wondrous voice, so that I should celebrate things of the future and things that were aforetime. Come now, from the Muses let us begin, as they tell of what is and what shall be and what was aforetime, voices in unison. The words flow untiring from their mouths, and sweet.Â
âI mean⌠just wowâŚâ Steven sighed, eyes twinkling at you from across your desk.Â
âI know.â You nodded with deep satisfaction.Â
âYouâre right, too.â he continued, âYou really do get this sense that they were there.âÂ
âIt feels like it, huh?â you agreed, âWith ancient Egypt, you have Pharaoh as the representative of higher power, but there isnât this deep and messy interaction with the gods that Iâve come to love so much out of Greek myth. Especially when historical artists made work where they themselves interacted with gods, or were at least in conversation with them, like this or like Sappho.âÂ
Lately, when Steven worked mornings, he had taken to peering into your cubicle on his breaks to see if you werenât too busy for him to visit. It was quickly becoming your favorite ritual, and you found yourself often looking past your cubicleâs entrance as if you could will his curly head of hair to appear.Â
âI think the closest equivalent I can come to is the temple of PhilaeâŚâ Steven thought aloud, he leaned over your desk excitedly. You smiled, nodding as you thought of the description of it in the book Steven lent you.Â
Close by this temple of Osiris at Philae was a small one, dedicated to his queen and sister, Isis. A later writer speaks of it as âthe most strangely wild and beautiful spot he ever beheld. Here spreads a deep drift of silvery sand, fringed by rich verdure and purple blossoms; there, a grove of palms, intermingled with flowering acacia; and there, through vistas of craggy cliffs and gloomy foliage, gleams a calm blue lake, with the sacred island in the midst, green to the waterâs edge, except where the walls of the old temple city are reflected.â Â
âFrom the little Iâve glimpsed so far, it seems like Osirus and Isisâ marriage is a very popular story?â
âOh, yea, super.â Steven nodded significantly. âAnd for good reason too- I mean sewing your husbandâs body back from fourteen pieces is quite a testimony to your love, I think.â There was a quiet pause as you took a moment to make sure the two of you were still being ignored, before Steven continued, âIs there a love story you like from Greek mythology?âÂ
âOh-â you took in a deep breath, overwhelmed by the question. âThere are so many⌠I mean so, so many. You have the big ones, you know- like Odysseus and Penelope, Patroclus and Achilles, Hades and Persephone, the love triangle of Aphrodite, Ares and Hephaestus⌠the Greeks adored a good love story. They had 8 different kinds of Love, after all.âÂ
âEight, really?â Steven asked, leaning even further over your desk, his smile unfading.Â
âYes! You have Storge, familial love. Philautia, self love. Agape, which I quite like, thatâs love for everyone.â
âOoh thatâs very grand.â Steven chuckled.Â
âIt is! Philia is also lovely- thatâs deep friendship.âÂ
âAlright, that was four.â he counted, tilting his head as he looked into your eyes. If there were any emails or phone calls incoming you would have never known. You met Stevenâs gaze, smiling back at him and feeling, strangely, as if you couldnât inhale as much air as you would like to.
âMhm⌠then we have Mania, which is obsessive love. You know, when you canât stop thinking about someone and youâre just-â you shook your head, grinning, âkinda like when you first fall in love for someone, really hard, and you canât think about anything else, youâre just tortured?âÂ
A change passed over Stevenâs face that was initially hard for you to read. At first, you thought the brightness of his eyes dimmed at your last words, but as you searched his face you realized that his eyes werenât less bright due to dismay or boredom, they were less bright because his pupils were dilating as he watched you. Steven was so close to you that you could even see your own silhouette in his widening gaze.Â
âUmâŚâ you continued on, swallowing dryly, âA..Another favorite of mine, Ludus⌠which is playful love, or like- young love. Eros, probably the best known, as itâs the spicy one. And lastly you have the love Iâm certain Osirus and Isis sharedâŚâ
âWhatâs that one called?â Steven asked, eyes widening.Â
âPragma, longstanding love⌠kind of the end goal, really.âÂ
You jumped with a start as your desk phone began to ring loudly. Steven cleared his throat, pulling himself off of your desk and back into his chair, rubbing the side of his face with one hand as you twisted to pick up your phone. You frowned as you recognized the number on caller i.d. to be the gift shopâs extension. âUt oh StevenâŚâ you mumbled, picking up the phone. âReception- how can I help you?â you answered as neutrally as possible, but you almost lost your professional composure as you glanced nervously at Steven, and found him staring at you like a child caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar.Â
âHello- could you please tell me if there is a gift shop employee in the office? His name is Stevie?â
âStevie?â you repeated, confused. Steven rolled his eyes, exasperated. âNo, there is definitely no Stevie here Iâm sorry to say⌠office is pretty empty. Is there something I can help you wi-â the phone clicked in your ear. Frowning, you pulled the receiver away from you to look at it, before hanging up the line and looking at Steven.
âDid Donna just hang up on you?â he asked, startled.Â
âI think she did?â you replied laughing, aghast.Â
âOi- I hate that, Iâm sorry.â Steven grimaced, standing up. âI donât want you getting into trouble.âÂ
âIâm not concerned, we work in two totally separate departments.â you shrugged. This seemed to reassure Steven as he patted down his pants pockets and made sure he had everything.
âTime to go sell some plastic ankhs?â you teased, grinning.Â
âOh yes.â Steven replied lamely. âSome Nike of Samothrace snow globes as well.âÂ
âOuch- you got me.â you laughed, standing up too. You opened your mouth to ask about seeing him for lunch before you stopped yourself- what if you were being too demanding of his attention? With these new visits, any free time Steven had was being claimed by you. It felt presumptive to assume he wouldnât like some time for himself. âUm⌠do you have any plans you're looking forward to, today?âÂ
âFinishing the Theogony, thatâs about it.â Steven replied, stepping out of your cubicle. âTalk about it over lunch, yea?âÂ
You felt yourself blush. âIf you want to!âÂ
âCheers!â Steven exclaimed, before darting away.Â
You sat back in your office chair and swiveled to face your computer, smiling to yourself. Steven was good. He was so, so good. Sighing dreamily, you refreshed your email and watched your screen filled with messages.Â
As you clicked through your emails you couldnât help but to keep thinking about Steven, how lucky you were to become friends after only a few weeks of working at the museum. Even though Donna and Stevenâs relationship didnât seem great, part of you envied the amount they got to interact as a team. Your role was mostly emails between curators, accountants, marketing agents, and the Liaison Department.Â
You straightened in your chair as something occurred to you, hadnât Steven said that he wanted to be a tour guide? You opened an email from Marketing briefing the Liaison Department on a new collection of work that would be showcased soon, asking the liaisons to study up on the attached pdfâs of art history so they could speak about the collection. You still hadnât figured out why you seemed to be CCâd on every single email from any department under the museum roof, but now that didnât seem so bad. They were all there- any branch manager you needed was available to you⌠even the curation team for the ancient Egyptian collection.
âWhat have you got today?â you asked as you sat down beside Steven in the break room.Â
âI think what you mean is, what have I got us today!ââ Steven said triumphantly, as he pulled from his bag not one, but two lunches.Â
âWhat!â you exclaimed, eyebrows raised.Â
âYea dove I made you lunch!â Steven grinned, all the more satisfied by your surprise. âItâs not bad either, weâve got apples, some crisps, and avocado sandwiches! Theyâre quite good really, theyâve got lettuce and tomato in, and this spicy mustard.âÂ
Steven set your lunch before you with a level of excitement equal to a conductor beginning a symphony. All you could do was stare, and make some strange smile with your mouth partly open, as you looked between him and the slightly crumpled, but still appetizing sandwich before you.Â
âI wanted to try and make this vegan caramel for the apples but I rather bungled thatâŚâ he continued, reminiscing on his caramel attempt with a cringe.Â
âIâm-â you started to say, but you didnât actually know what you were. Aside from the obvious attributes: deeply flattered, touched, and surprised. There was a tightness in your throat that youâd only usually felt when you were about to cry, but there were no tears forming in your eyes. You stared at the sandwich as if it held monumental power.Â
With a crunch, Steven bit into his apple. He nudged your arm with his elbow as he took another bite. You jumped a little and picked up your own.Â
âCheers!â Steven said, tapping his apple against yours. Chucking, you took a bite.Â
You couldnât have known how strange it was for Steven to be eating a lunch he made with a friend. He was nearly as surprised as you, that he was able to sit down with you today and provide this meal. Steven had never been very good about remembering to make himself up a lunch to take to work, but the idea of also making one for you, however modest it may be, was so exciting that it stuck in his mind. Instead of only remembering he should have packed food by the time he was clocking out for lunch, he had stopped at the market on the way home last night, imagining how this very moment would play out. As was usual, he had been hesitant to fall asleep, but the thought of having time in the morning to carefully assemble sandwiches gripped him with excitement and so heâd done his best, making sure his ankle restraint was tightly fastened to his leg no later than midnight, and stared up at his dark ceiling, silently begging it to let him sleep peacefully.Â
When Steven woke up it was nearly dawn. He was so bewildered by the unique light of early morning that for a moment he thought heâd only slept for a few minutes. His ankle was still securely fastened to its brace, and even more profoundly, he felt rested. Steven felt like he had won, but there was also a bitter sweetness to realizing his night had gone exactly as intended- that it was unlikely to happen again, or consistently.
He tried to brush off that anxiety though, as he watched you take the first bite of the sandwich he made. Whether you were just being angelically polite or genuinely enjoying it, he appreciated your attention nevertheless. What was better? To try and have some plans, some gifts, some special moments never materialize- or to never meet the opportunity to surprise you and make you smile?Â
That was an easy answer.Â
âYou failed to mention earlier,â Steven started, chewing through a large bite of bread, âwhat your favorite ancient Greek love story is?âÂ
âOh right! Well thatâs so difficult!â you groaned, grinning. âThe reason may be nuanced, but I love Selene and Endymionâs story.âÂ
âWhat is it?âÂ
âSelene is the Moon goddess in the ancient Greek pantheon, and Endymion was a mortal shepherd Prince that would take his flock over hills and mountains at night. They fell in love, but because she was immortal and Endymion was not, Zeus extended his life by casting an eternal sleep upon Endymion.âÂ
âAlright?â Steven responded, gesturing for you to keep explaining.Â
âThatâs pretty much the whole story.â you laughed.
âWhy is that your favorite then?â Steven asked, more spellbound than anything.Â
âBecause! Okay this might sound a little cheesy but-â
âSorry, I canât do cheese. Iâm vegan, remember?â Steven said with mock severity.Â
âWow.â you replied flatly. You leaned back a little to watch Steven have a very hard time not laughing at his own joke. âProud of yourself?âÂ
âGo on, keep telling me why-â he choked out, bringing his hands to cover his mouth.Â
âNo, noâŚâ you replied, you resisted the twitch of a smile on your own face. âI donât think I can after being eviscerated by your lactose free wit.âÂ
âPlease-â Steven wheezed faintly, nodding encouragingly, âPlease, tell me.âÂ
âWell-â you sighed haggardly, âWhat I was going to say is that I like it, because to me it feels metaphorical? No one should really âseeâ the moon because it is at its best when we should be asleep, and yet we have and we do- and we have done for hundreds of years? Cultures with no connection all over the world have fallen in love with the Moon, which appears in its highest glory when our eyes should be closed? And I just think of that when thinking of Endymion. I think of how the night sky infatuates us, how humankind has always been so rhapsodic about it, even though as creatures we are useless in the dark and the night does little for anyone in a practical sense.
âEndymion is in this eternal sleep, induced by his love for the Moon⌠again, metaphorically, heâs fed by his affection for something so lovely? It just so simply encapsulates this understanding that people had way back then that even in a time of hardship, beauty was longed for and nourished humankind?âÂ
Steven had stopped eating. He was simply staring at you, eyebrows raised.Â
âI know it sounds like Iâve thought about it too much- itâs because I do.â you qualified, embarrassed.Â
âNo-â Steven replied, voice soft, brow furrowed. âYouâre alright⌠that was, thatâs good.âÂ
You were not convinced that Steven was genuine in his reassurance. You cast your eyes downward, mind racing. This was an overstep on your part- you got a little too romantic, waxed a little too poetic about your favorite topic. You wanted to try to ground your thoughts. âUm⌠thereâs an⌠thereâs a quote from this book.â you offered weakly, pulling your phone out of your pocket for reference.Â
You read aloud, âThere is a fundamental reason why we look at the sky with wonder and longingâfor the same reason that we stand, hour after hour, gazing at the distant swell of the open ocean. There is something like an ancient wisdom, encoded and tucked away in our DNA, that knows its point of origin as surely as a salmon knows its creek. Intellectually, we may not want to return there, but the genes know, and long for their originsâtheir home in the salty depths. But if the seas are our immediate source, the penultimate source is certainly the heavens⌠The spectacular truth isâand this is something that your DNA has known all alongâthe very atoms of your bodyâthe iron, calcium, phosphorus, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and on and onâwere initially forged in long-dead stars. This is why, when you stand outside under a moonless, country sky, you feel some ineffable tugging at your innards. We are star stuff.â The quiet you were greeted with felt unbearable. Quickly tucking your phone back in your pocket, you smiled, and sighed. âI mean those are the words of an astronomer, but the ancient Greeks were saying the same thing- We canât help ourselves. Weâre all in love with the moon.â
Mania. Steven thought.
âIâŚâ Steven started, before stopping himself with a shake of his head. He still hadnât touched any food. Sighing your name, Steven glanced into your eyes, head still shaking. âYou⌠um, you think- You think very beautifully.âÂ
âHah-â you breathed, it was a sound of deepest regret. Why? Why had you been so open. You could have probably cooked an egg on your cheek, it felt so warm. You were desperate for some way out of being the talkative one. âYou know, I donât actually know if there was a Moon god in the Egyptian pantheon?âÂ
âOh-â Stevenâs tone changed to something significantly less enchanted. âYea. His name is Khonshu, god of the Moon, protector of those who travel at night.âÂ
â...not a fan?â you asked, unable to help smiling at how personally offended Steven seemed by invoking Khonshu.Â
âNot really.â he replied, shrugging.Â
âAha!â you grinned, taking a triumphant bite of your apple. âAnd there it is.â
âWhat?â Steven asked.
âThe beginning of the end, Steven.â you hummed, âGreek god versus Egyptian God, Selene beats Khonshu.âÂ
âHAH!â Steven laughed so loudly the rest of your coworkers in the break room glanced over. Why did this always happen to you two? Steven grasped at his chest, his eyes closed by the strength of his giggles. âAlright dove, that one you can have.â
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