The God and The Youth [IdentityV JosCarl]

Happy Birthday (Unedited)

Something was off that day, and if you ask Apollo—Joseph, he too would not be able to answer you. His stomach churned with nervousness and jitters—and yesterday's incident did not help it.

The thought plagued his mind like a budding disease. Aesop Carl, his flower—his Aesop, had almost been killed, by a discus no less—one HE threw! Be it himself or unseen forces, he almost had. That certainly was not something he'd like to see; Fake or Reality it would be too cruel for him.

And then it hit him. 'I'm too dangerous for him.' Joseph thought with clarity. It would not be the first time any of his lovers fell to their demise. He was never lucky with love—look at what he did to Vera, no. To Chloe, it might have been a misunderstanding but still, his own hands had done the deed.

However—there is always one factor at play. His father, Zeus. It would be so easy to push the blame on him but he himself is not a pure being either.

'I can't—I won't be able to let him go. Even if I tried.' It was true, he was too attached to him. The boy—the youth he met at the lake—enraptured him with feelings he thought he had long buried ever since that awful day. Without him knowing, Aesop had brought back a part of him that he never thought he would bring up again, and he will keep it that way.

For now, He will prepare his gift. The garment he had bought before, the one specifically Aesop was eying, was carefully wrapped in another silk cloth tucked by his side. He also brought with him a flower, but unlike all the flowers he bestowed upon the youth before—This one was unlike any other. It was his own design; one he had been envisioning ever since he had met the boy. A bell-shaped flora consisting of tiny flowers—ones alike to the flowers he often braided in his hair. It was white in color for it would serve as representation of how he found Aesop as the epitome of balanced purity. It was clear that was rather proud of the flower he had made with the help of his blessed. Currently, the flower had no name, but that would be for Aesop to judge. With that he was ready to depart.

"Are you leaving? Already?" He looked back to see Emma, his blessed. "I have to, Emma it's his—" "Yes yes I know. You wouldn't go a day or two without reminding me." The girl huffed and subtly brushed her fingers on a rose bush, the flowers open its petals to her. "It's just that I don't think it's safe—" She turns her head a bit. Wearily looking at the sky, "—Something wrong is going to happen. I can feel it. The plants are mourning—Weeping."

"Weeping?" Apollo pondered for a bit before dismissing it. "Forget it—We'll investigate later I need to go." "But—" "Emma." She flinched at the stern voice making him sigh. "I'm sorry, it's his birthday and I—" "I understand. I really do." Emma interrupted him one last time, "Just, just promise me you'll be safe."

Apollo could not help but chuckle at her worse. "Me? Safe? I'll surely be safe, worry for those who attempt to cross me!" he jested. At the sight of his retreating form she sighed. Emma looked towards the rose bush and plucked a single rose. A yellow rose, almost golden, seemed to be the one crying the most. "Why do you weep?" Despite knowing she will not get an answer. It was worth a try.

On the flip side was another man. A man named Eli Clark who woke up in a state of both relief and slight nervousness. There was no regret in his system, he ultimately couldn't fulfill the deal Poseidon had fashioned for him—To kill one Aesop Carl, the very person he's grown affectionate for, and he's glad he did not.

However that does not erase the fact that he—had intentionally crossed a God. The fact that he could not fulfill the price was without a doubt a slap to the face.

He will most likely be killed and he knows this. No one crosses and tricks Gods and leaves without a scratch.

To be completely honest however, he is quite confused. You see, Eli Clark had fully expected for the effects and perks of his deal to be off. To reverse itself and act as if it never existed and yet, his Owl is still there, and he felt no different. Another thing to take note of is the fact he experienced no nightmare, and his eyes felt like his own once again. Had Poseidon not noticed his impudent defiance?