Chapter 3 3

Soon the sun began to rise, peeking through the window and shining into the eyes of the two best friends. But the result was that Evangeline woke up first and, still drowsy, she got up and stretched her entire body, but soon the headache shot through.

"Damn it," she muttered as she left the room and headed towards the kitchen where, for some strange reason, her emergency kit was located. But as she passed through the living room, she noticed something strange. She slowly turned and noticed a painting, one that she knew perfectly, but there was something different...

"What the...?" A shrill sound caught her attention, and without thinking twice, she grabbed the first thing she saw and headed towards the source of the sound.

She took deep breaths and entered the kitchen, witnessing the refrigerator doors wide open. Without hesitation, she ran and let what she had in her hand collide with the intruder who was raiding her precious fridge. But nothing happened.

The thief straightened his broad back and slowly turned, revealing his face.

Evangeline turned all colors, her blood pressure rose and fell, her sugar levels reached their limit, and she definitely experienced kidney failure.

"Ah!" she screamed so loudly that Charlotte jumped up and hit the hard floor, but quickly got up to help her best friend.

"What happened? What's going on? Who invaded the house?" Charlotte arrived completely disoriented, but when her gaze fell on the refrigerator thief, her jaw almost dropped to the floor as it does in cartoons.

"Char, tell me you're seeing the same thing I am."

"Are you seeing Darien of Macedonia?" she asks.

"Yes," Evangeline replies.

"Then I think we're having a shared dream."

"That's almost impossible."

"Well, apparently not, because I'm dreaming about your art crush."

"Crush?" Both of them, upon hearing Darien's deep voice, startle and take a few steps back. "Where am I? What time is it? Why is it so cold?" he points at the refrigerator.

"This must be a damn tasteless joke," Evangeline blurts out. "Who the hell are you?"

"They call me Darien the Valiant, and I am the commander of King Alexander III of Macedonia's troops."

"That's impossible," the girl mocks. "You must be someone who came to mock me."

"Eva," Charlotte calls her attention. "I think the guy is telling the truth."

"Do you really believe him?" she crosses her arms.

"You have to see this."

Both of them leave the kitchen and head to the living room where the real Darien is supposed to be, but they were in for a surprise.

"Char, if you don't hold me right now, I swear I'm going to faint."

Evangeline starts to descend slowly, but Charlotte holds her in her arms to prevent her from falling to the ground.

"There must be some explanation for this," Charlotte tries to reason.

"You know what, maybe we are having a shared dream," Evangeline immediately straightens up. "Slap me."

"I won't do that."

"Just do it, Charlotte, or I swear I'll throw myself onto that glass table, and you know I'm capable of it."

"Ugh, you're so stubborn." Without further delay, Charlotte gives Evangeline a strong slap.

"Damn it," Evangeline brings her hand to her cheek, rubbing it. "It's definitely not a dream."

"Now what are we going to do with this man?" Charlotte whispers.

"I don't know, but the first question is: How did he get out of the painting?" Evangeline whispers back.

"Maybe I can explain," he says.

"Definitely, this is insane," Evangeline paces around the room, unable to believe that this handsome man is in her living room. Though in a way, her dreams had finally come true, there seemed to be no human logic to explain how Darien of Macedonia would come out of the painting at night.

"Tell us, Darien," Charlotte approaches the commander from ancient Macedonia. But she couldn't concentrate with the sexiest man on Earth standing in front of her, completely naked. "You know, Eva, we should find him some clothes first."

Evangeline turns in Charlotte's direction and finally notices that her Adonis is indeed naked. She had seen him so many times that she didn't even pay attention to the rest of his body.

"I think I have some clothes that Eric didn't take in my closet," she announces. "I'll get them, and you keep an eye on the man from the painting so he doesn't escape."

Evangeline heads back to her room, leaving her friend and her desire alone. She opens her wardrobe and indeed finds some clothes her ex-boyfriend had left behind. But Eric was a bit skinnier than the commander, so maybe the pants would fit, but the shirts definitely wouldn't. She comes out again, and inevitably, her gaze meets Darien's. The slow-motion effect takes over, and she can clearly see his honey-colored eyes shining. The texture of his skin is so perfect that it seems like it was carved by the Greek gods themselves. His braid is just as perfect, not to mention his skin tone.

"I found these; I'm not sure if they'll fit you exactly," she offers him the clothes.

"Thank you," his voice sends shivers down Evangeline's body. Darien definitely exudes masculinity from every pore. "I've always wanted to hear your voice."

"What?" she asks, confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Yes, you are the first and only thing I've seen for so long," he says as he puts on the pants, which are a little above his ankles.

"I still don't understand what's happening."

"You should sit down," Charlotte suggests, staring at Evangeline. She does as she's told and sits next to her best friend. "Maybe you should explain, big guy."

"Maybe you should sit too," Darien gazes at Evangeline. She complies and sits next to her best friend. "First of all, I don't know how I got out of there," he points to the painting. "The last thing I remember is you pulling me out."

"So... you could see and hear us inside the painting?" Charlotte asks.

"I couldn't hear you; I've lived part of my life in silence."

"So that we can understand what's happening right now, explain everything from the beginning," Evangeline desperately urges Darien to reveal all the historical knowledge he possesses. She crosses her legs on the couch, ready to learn the truth.

"Do you know about the Gorgon Medusa and her story?"

"Yes," the two girls respond simultaneously.

Something like that happened to me. We had returned home after a long battle, victorious. Wine flowed everywhere, and soon I lost control of my own body. The next morning, I woke up with someone; I don't remember exactly who. But she appeared with her priestesses and, without waiting for an answer, she cast a spell and trapped me inside that painting," he points.

"Who is she?" Evangeline asks curiously.

"Hera."

"Damn..." Charlotte mutters. "You earned the hatred of the most vengeful goddess."

"I know

, I know."

"How many years, centuries, minutes, seconds have you been trapped in the painting?" Evangeline asks.

"I don't know. For a long time, I was buried underground until some men unearthed me. The women wore big hairstyles and looked very pale."

"It must have been the 1700s," Charlotte adds, and Evangeline nods in agreement. "What else have you seen?"

"I saw the machines changing, saw many people running around. I was also in the hands of a man with a small mustache on his upper lip."

"Hitler!" the two friends exclaim simultaneously.

"Who is he?"

"He was a German genocidal leader who killed millions of Jews. He was obsessed with creating the perfect race with very fair skin, blue eyes, and blond hair," Eva explains.

"I only understood the part about him being a killer," Darien's face blushes, finding something very endearing about it.

"You'll find out soon," Eva consoles him in a way. "What we need to figure out right now is how Darien got out of the painting."

At that moment, Evangeline's phone rings. She gets up from the couch and follows the tune of her cellphone, finding it in her bag from yesterday. As she takes it out, all color drains from her face. She turns to Charlotte from a distance and shows her the name of the head of security.

"We've been discovered," she says.

Evangeline starts pacing around the room, hyperventilating. Charlotte grabs her and shakes her repeatedly.

"You need to calm down, woman."

.