Paris couldn’t help but notice her sudden interest in her food. Sure, it was normal to check and make sure one received exactly what they had ordered. But this seemed different. It irritated him a little. He wanted answers and she seemed more concerned about her prosciutto. He merely poked at his meal before she spoke again. It felt like it took an eternity for her to answer him. That wasn’t awkward at all.
When she finally did speak again, he looked up and watched as she spoke. Even all the hurt feelings in the world couldn’t make him angry at her. Yes, he was annoyed and hurt that she had avoided him but she’d had her reasons. (There he goes reasoning with himself again.) But he couldn’t be angry with Helen. It simply wasn’t something he could do. She was far too important to him for him to actually be upset with her.
His personal feelings only worsened when he saw those tears in her eyes. Even with a saddened expression she was still more beautiful than any other woman in the world. Even in this state she was stunning. He nodded slowly. “I understand, Helen. I do. I just… I couldn’t believe you’d avoid me, of all people.” Menelaus, perhaps. But not me. Her words, however, were correct. It might have been positively silly for them to have come together sooner, no matter how badly he wanted and needed to see her again. “Our story, our original story, is over. It was never prophesied that we would meet again and cause the destruction of another city.” He was only trying to console her. Trying to reason with her that their meeting again would do no harm.
At her question, there was a sudden, slight pink tint to his cheeks. He answered honestly, yet a little embarrassedly. “I thought maybe… we could be together again. Like we used to be. I don’t expect it right away, since it’s been so long. I just… I’d like you back in my life.”