His father would kill him. A God shouldn't be as invested, as he was, with a singular mortal. Every day he kept up with her doings. There was something exciting about the way he could watch her tackle the small grievances that he could throw her way. The God's abilities should be used to cause waves to steer boats in the wrong directions or cause a greedy noble to lose his wealth in an accidental fire. Peter fed off the misfortune of others. Yet he found himself satiated by misplacing the woman's things or causing her to trip on rubble.
She was strong. That much was clear. No matter what he threw at her, he watched as she overcame the obstacles. Tonight he decided that he wanted to see more from her. He lived for the surprise. When he would see the widening eyes of men who were lost at sea or the shock when someone misplaces a deed that causes a family to lose their home. But he's never seen the look of shock on her face. Tonight he was determined to change that.
Every night he would flood her dreams with sultry and devious acts—wanting to leave her breathless in the night. Flashes of him and a romance that brewed between them was easy fodder for her sensual dreams. He wondered if she'd warn her friends or family that her nights were filled with visions of hedonistic acts with the God of Mischief. Once a full moon illuminates the kingdom, he decides to manifest her dreams into reality.
A small tap onto the door of her home, standing in his best noble attire. He decides to showcase some restraint, his wide wings only faintly showing enough to prove to her that what she would see is not of this realm. All he wanted was to see the look on her face—he wants to know that she thinks of him just as much as he thinks of her.
When the door opens, he grins and walks in as if he were already welcome. "No need to wait any longer, my love. I'm here." // @nonscnse