I really, really hated Octavius.

I hated his stupid clothes and stupid words and stupid city. I hated his stupid pretty face, I hated his stupid eyes that seemed to lock onto my own and keep my in place. But most of all, I hated how he made me feel. I wanted to cry and laugh and puke all at once and I couldn't stand it.

So I threw myself into the war we had started between our men and our cities and made myself despise him with every fiber of my being. But then Larry showed up, and he wouldn't put up with our fighting. I was angry at first - couldn't he see I just had to fight the stupid Roman with his stupid face? But eventually I got over it and let myself become his friend. In all honesty, I rather liked being his friend rather than his enemy.

I was reckless, and I knew that; sometimes I would throw myself into unstable situations just to see the look on Octavius' face, because I knew he'd never leave me alone. So I always drove just a little too fast, talked just a little too loud, because I knew that I'd never leave him alone either, but he didn't need to know that.

At one point he became distant, and started frowning more. I didn't like it. So I made sure he got the message that I wasn't going anywhere without outright saying it.

That would be awkward.

It wasn't for a few years after Larry showed up that I realized I might fancy him, and I quickly pushed it to the back of my mind. That was wrong. He didn't like me like that, couldn't like me like that - he was a guy too, not to mention a lot older than me. But I couldn't stop myself from sticking around, my traitorous mind often turning to how he smiled at me or how he probably didn't wear anything under his stupid skirt.

There are no words to describe how I felt when Octavius noticed the stupid knight's attractiveness. Yeah, he was good-looking, sure, but it was all very overrated. Not to mention the fact that he stole the tablet that kept us alive. Hypnotic blue eyes, he had said. So I made sure he didn't get too far from me, tried to act nonchalant.

Pretty sure I failed on that second part. Oh well.

And he had asked me to hold his hand. Yes, okay, my mind screamed at me. But that's not what came out. And when we were safe again, I couldn't help but notice how he refused to look at me.

But we had fun together. Even running from certain death more than once, we were laughing all along, and I liked that he was happy. Really, he didn't look old - I stopped that train of thought. Couldn't have that. Oh no.

And then we were dying. That was certainly a strange feeling. And as my strength faded, and I looked at the stars, so cold and distant, I felt like crying. Why had I rejected how I felt? Why hadn't I taken his hand when he'd asked? So I mumbled about taking that hand now, and it took all my willpower not to break down right there when I felt his fingers close around mine.

And then we were okay again. I was so caught up in the moment, if I had seen the glistening in Octavius' eyes I didn't really notice them as I unthinkingly threw my arms around him. It wasn't until we were back in our own museum in New York and I faced eternal separation from him that it hit me. I couldn't live without him, couldn't watch the years go by knowing that he was just a short walk away. But the sun was coming up. I had to. So I made our goodbye brief, and as I felt my body become heavy, I turned my head to look at the wall, where I knew he was standing on the other side.

It was in the blink of an eye and an eternity before I felt life take hold of me again. That meant a few things: Ahkmenrah was back, and probably Gigantor as well, and oh my God I have to see Octavius.

Our reunion was short and sweet, for the party was starting. I had convinced him to DJ with me, just for shits, and I looked at him when his hand wrapped around my forearm and pulled me off of the table. I followed, eyebrows raised, and didn't have any time to compute what was going on before we were hidden and holy mother of Mary he's kissing me, what do I do, what's going on?

He clearly wasn't discouraged, because even though it took me what felt like years to respond, he kept at it - and I suddenly felt from him what I'd been feeling all along. And I wanted to cry.

I certainly wasn't letting him go again, I decided as I pulled his stupid helmet off and clenched my fists in his stupid hair.