If he had pinned her down at the foot of Athena's temple, and forced her through screams and pleas, he might not have felt anything after Athena cursed her.
But he didn't. And she didn't. And he felt worse for it.
"I wanted something I wasn't supposed to have. And you paid the price for it. If you want an apology, it's a few thousand years too late for one. If you want to forget about it, you'd forget who you are too. I came here to say hello, not to rub salt in the wound."
He couldn't change her back, and he wasn't about to forget what transpired between them. What he wanted - it was painfully obvious what it was he wanted - and equally obvious was the fact that it wasn't going to happen.
Cradling the back of her head in his hand, he moved just enough so he could press his lips against hers, for a moment as fleeting as the time they had spent together.
And then he pulled away, and the space that manifested between them was colder than stone.