The Goddess At My University

"What about you? What's your name?" Chase asked, breaking the silence.

She slowed her eating slightly, her spoon hovering over the bowl as though debating whether to answer. Finally, she murmured, "…Diana Lumis." Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant, and she kept her gaze fixed on the porridge.

"Diana," Chase repeated softly, letting the name linger for a moment.

She didn't respond, focusing instead on finishing her meal. A few minutes later, she set the empty bowl down on the counter with a soft clink. Her fingers brushed the edge of the bowl, and she glanced at him, a hint of embarrassment in her expression. "Do you… have more of this?"

Chase shook his head, standing up. "I only made that one bowl," he said, opening the fridge. As he scanned the contents, an idea came to him. "But I still have the ingredients for more."

Diana blinked at him, skeptical. "You'd really make more?"

Chase shrugged, pulling the leftover ingredients from the fridge and setting them on the counter. He walked over to the wall to grab his apron, slipping it back on and tying it loosely behind his back. "Sick people should eat hot meals," he said simply, adjusting the apron as he spoke. "I don't want you eating something that would trouble your body more."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned back in her seat, watching him. "You don't even know me," she said after a pause, her tone skeptical.

"It's not a big deal," Chase said, pouring chicken stock into a pot on the stove. "I don't have anything else to do anyway."

Diana sat on a stool at the kitchen island, her silver eyes sharp and watchful. "Why are you treating me so well? Why did you take me from the alley?"

Chase paused, glancing at her over his shoulder. He turned back to the counter, carefully slicing a piece of ginger with steady hands. "People shouldn't do that, normally" he said quietly, his tone even. "But I couldn't leave you in that dirty, creepy alleyway."

Diana frowned, her arms crossing. "Most people would have," she said bluntly.

"Maybe," Chase replied, dropping the ginger into the pot.

Her gaze didn't waver, though her voice softened slightly. "You're strange."

He smirked faintly, stirring the pot with a wooden spoon. "Strange's not the worst thing to be."

She didn't respond, but her shoulders relaxed slightly, the hard edge in her expression fading for the first time.

"…You're still strange," she said finally, her voice softer but no less certain.

Chase let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You're not wrong."

Diana continued to watch him, her sharp eyes following his every move. It wasn't just curiosity—there was an intensity in the way she observed, as though trying to piece together a puzzle. Her gaze flickered briefly to his face, and something seemed to click.

"Hm?" she muttered softly, her brows furrowing. "You look… very familiar."

Chase's hand froze mid-motion, and he nearly dropped the small handful of rice he was about to rinse. "What do you mean, familiar?" he asked, his voice hitching slightly. His stomach twisted nervously. Please don't let this girl be from my middle school. Or high school, he thought. He didn't recall anyone that stunning from back then, but the idea still gnawed at him.

Diana tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she studied him even more closely. "There's this vile, annoying woman I used to know," she said, her tone suddenly sharp with irritation. "You look just like her."

Chase blinked, momentarily startled by the venom in her voice. Then, realizing what she'd said, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. She wasn't someone from his past. But then something clicked in his mind. She'd said woman.

He hesitated, a thought rising unbidden. Could she mean my mother? He pushed the idea aside almost immediately. He didn't care where his mother was or what she was doing. He had never even seen her. Wondering about her now felt pointless.

Diana leaned forward slightly, her gaze skeptical but unwavering. "Actually," she continued, "now that I look closer, it's almost identical. There are a few differences, but…" She trailed off, then added with a pointed tone, "Where are your parents? You're what—eighteen? It's not normal to be living alone at your age."

Chase straightened up, deciding to answer without overthinking it. He wasn't particularly guarded about his past—except when it came to his appearance—but it wasn't something he shared often. "My dad died when I was a kid," he said, his tone even, carrying a trace of resignation but no lingering grief. "As for my mom… I've never met her. No idea where she is."

Diana's eyes narrowed further, her analytical gaze growing more intense. She seemed to be piecing something together in her mind. The resemblance, the lack of a mother figure—it all aligned too closely. Yet something about him didn't quite fit.

There's no way someone like her had a kid like this, Diana thought. He's too normal… and even kind, dare I say. Her eyes flicked over his features. The only thing he took from her was her appearance.

She hesitated for a moment, her thoughts trailing somewhere she hadn't intended. He is quite handsome, she thought, but she quickly stopped herself, shaking the notion from her head as irritation crept into her expression.

Diana leaned back slightly, her arms crossed as she watched Chase move around the kitchen. How can I confirm it? she wondered. Her thoughts raced. Maybe if I spoke in Greek… but that's not a reliable test. Only the strong ones pick it up naturally. Or perhaps I could push him to use some of her abilities? She drummed her fingers against the counter, her mind whirling with possibilities.

Her expression darkened slightly as she thought further. If I tell him directly, he'll know who I am. He seems trustworthy, but he's still a male. Her jaw tightened at the word. Still, if things go wrong, I could vaporize him on the spot. I'd deal with the consequences—even if his mother came after me. It's safer to stay hidden than risk him running around with my secrets.

While Diana strategized, Chase calmly put the ingredients on the stove: rice, ginger, chicken broth, and a couple of eggs he planned to boil. The gentle sound of simmering filled the room as the porridge began to take shape.

Alright, Diana thought. A simple test first. She decided to speak a basic sentence in Greek to see if he reacted. Her tone was casual as she asked, "Το φαγητό είναι σχεδόν έτοιμο;" (Is the food almost ready?)

Chase nodded without hesitation. "Yeah, it'll probably be done in a couple of minutes. Just have to let it cook," he replied, completely unaware that she'd spoken in another language.

Diana's eyes widened in shock, though she quickly schooled her expression. That confirms it. He's definitely her child. But as the initial surprise faded, another thought crept in. Did he even realize I wasn't speaking English?

She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "Boy—" she started, then caught herself. "I mean, Chase."

Chase glanced at her, his brows furrowing slightly. The way she'd almost said boy sent a strange unease through him. She'd spoken the word as though it were the worst insult imaginable.

"What is it?" he asked cautiously.

Diana straightened, her tone as calm as she could manage. "Do you wish to know who your mother is?"

Chase froze, his hand gripping the edge of the counter. His face paled as he stared at her, his eyes wide as though he'd just seen a ghost. "You… you know who she is?"

"Yes," Diana began, her tone measured. "But to learn this, you'll also need to learn a secret about me. I'm not comfortable sharing it, but…" She hesitated, glancing at him before continuing. "It's the least I can do to repay the hospitality you've shown me." Her gaze hardened slightly. "However, this information comes with a price—you cannot tell anyone what I reveal to you. Do you understand?"

Chase studied her carefully. For a moment, he wondered if she was joking. Her expression, though, left no room for doubt. He frowned, his thoughts tangling. Is knowing my mother's identity really that important?

The question lingered, and with it came another. Do I even care? His chest tightened as he remembered his father—how his mother wasn't there when he died. She didn't care about us then, so why should I care about her now?

Diana waited, her piercing gaze fixed on him, but Chase finally broke the silence. "She can keep her secrets," he said simply, his voice calm but firm. "And besides, don't force yourself to tell me anything if it makes you uncomfortable."

Diana looked at him, fully expecting him to agree, but his response caught her off guard. Her expression wavered between surprise and frustration. "You are indeed very strange," she muttered, almost to herself. After a brief pause, she added firmly, "Very well. I will tell you anyway."

Chase blinked, staring at her in disbelief. Didn't I just say no? he thought, baffled. She's really going to force me to hear this. He suppressed a sigh, the thought crossing his mind: Maybe I should've left her in that alley after all.

Realizing he had no choice, Chase decided to just listen. "Fine," he said, leaning back against the counter. "Let's hear it."

Diana's eyes met his, her expression serious. "There is no easy way to say this, but your mother… your mother is a goddess."

For a moment, Chase stared at her blankly, trying to process the absurdity of her words. Then, he burst into laughter. "Pfft… a goddess? That's not what I was expecting!" he managed between chuckles. "And what is my goddess mother the goddess of?"

Diana's face twisted in confusion at first, caught off guard by his reaction. But as his laughter grew louder, so did her frustration. Her hands clenched into fists, and she felt her anger bubbling beneath the surface.

"I'm serious!" she snapped, standing abruptly. Before Chase could react, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hoisted him to his toes. Though she was shorter than him, her strength was undeniable—and far from ordinary.

Chase's laughter faltered as she released him, but his grin lingered. "You're serious?" he asked, still trying to suppress a chuckle. "Okay, prove it. If my mother's a goddess, then what are you?"

Diana's expression darkened, and her grip tightened. "What am I?" she repeated, her voice sharp and icy. "I am also a goddess—one of the twelve Olympians, in fact." Her voice dropped lower, and her eyes flashed with intensity. "And you would do well to respect me. Unless, of course, you'd like to end up like one of those vile men in that very alley you claim to have brought me from." There was pride in her tone, like a warning.

Chase felt the atmosphere shift, and though his instincts told him to tread lightly, a part of him couldn't help but find her reaction amusing—if not a little terrifying.

"Then who is my mother? Is she also an Olympian?" He mocked, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Yes, she is," Diana replied, her voice filled with reluctant bitterness. "And though she might annoy me to no end, she is indeed a powerful one."

Chase let out a sigh, his amusement fading. "Let's say I do believe you. Why would an Olympian be attending university and end up passed out in an alleyway? Also, wouldn't that make me like… half-Greek or something?"

Diana's patience wore thin. She couldn't believe this mortal had dared to laugh at her and mock her like this. His ignorance was infuriating. She needed to prove a point.

With a steady breath, Diana switched to Greek. "I was curious to know how mortals lived, so I had my father strip me of my immortality. Though I can still call upon my powers, they come with drawbacks—which is why I was passed out and currently feel sick."

Chase's jaw dropped. He was certain he'd just heard her speak in Greek, but he understood every word she said.

Diana, feeling a small victory, couldn't help but smirk. "Now do you believe me?" she asked, switching back to English.

Chase quickly composed himself, forcing his focus back onto the food on the stove. "Even if I can understand Greek for some reason, that doesn't prove you and my mother are goddesses."

This infuriated Diana even further. "Why are you so stubborn?"

Chase shot back, his voice laced with resentment. "If my mother was really a goddess, couldn't she, I don't know, stop my dad from dying? Stop something like that from happening?"

Diana paused, the weight of his words sinking in. She sighed, her expression softening with sympathy. "That's not how it works. Gods and goddesses can't interfere with mortal lives. Though they can have children, they can't actually be there to nurture them."

Chase met her gaze, his frustration still evident. "Then what's the point of having kids if you can't raise them? Seems pretty stupid to me."

Diana looked at him, a quiet understanding settling over her. "I don't agree with it either. But I can tell you, your mother did love your father. The more a god loves a mortal, the stronger their children will turn out. And you being able to understand Greek... that proves you're strong."

Chase finished making the porridge and placed it in a bowl, setting it down in front of her. He then took off his apron, grabbed another cookie, and walked back to the couch.

"Fine," he said, looking at her. "Let's say you're telling the truth. What goddesses are you all?"

"Finally," Diana muttered, eyeing the porridge again and wielding her spoon. But Chase quickly warned, "It's very hot. You might want to let it cool down a bit."

Diana looked at him, momentarily saddened, almost like a child being told to wait before opening presents. Chase couldn't help but snicker a little at the sight.

"Your mother is Aphrodite," Diana said, still sulking as she couldn't eat yet. "Goddess of beauty and love."

Chase paused, his mind beginning to make sense of it all. It actually made a lot of sense—no wonder his appearance was so "cursed." From what his dad and Diana had said, he took a lot from his mother. That would also explain why he took such care of his body and didn't like dirt too much.

"What about you?" Chase asked, then stopped himself. "Wait, let me guess… With how you say 'boy' as if it's the most disgusting thing ever, and you mentioned you asked your father—" He thought for a second, his eyes widening. "You must be Artemis."

As the words left his mouth, he noticed the smirk creeping across Diana's face.

"Correct," she said, her tone proud.

Chase's breath caught, and a chill ran down his spine. He suddenly felt a wave of fear. "So, does that mean you plan on killing me once you recover?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Diana laughed, a genuine, amused laugh. "Why would I do that?"

Chase stammered, his mind racing. "Well, I touched you. Although it wasn't out of lust... don't you hate all men?"

Diana began, "While I do hate men, you've proven to be quite trustworthy so far." She scooped some of the porridge with her spoon, blowing on it a little before taking a bite. "Besides, you make good food." Her eyes shone as she chewed. This tastes better than the last bowl, she thought, clearly enjoying the meal.

Chase slowly started to calm down, grateful he had learned how to cook. But as he was about to relax, a thought crossed his mind, making him pause. Is it blasphemy if I thank God when I know other gods exist? He shook the useless thought away, "So what exactly did you do with those men in the alley?" He curiously and reluctantly asked.

Diana gave a small hmph as she chewed her food, not answering right away. Once she swallowed, she said, "I punished them as I saw fit. Broke their bones, made sure they could never have children again... then vaporized them."

Chase just looked at her in shock. No, that was brutal. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. What did she do to their... balls? He wasn't exactly eager to find out and winced in phantom pain, imagining it.

"I want proof still," Chase said, recovering from the phantom pain.

Diana could only sigh. "What more proof do you want? You want me to vaporize you or something?" she said, her voice carrying an evil glint.

"No, no. Just... it's hard to accept the fact that my mother is a goddess and the fact that a goddess attends my university."