╰┈➤𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ━━ ❝You've always been my little muse.❞
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you're the object of many powerful men desires; from gods to warriors...they all want 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 🇵🇴🇸🇹-ᴇᴘɪᴄ: ᴛᴍ!ᴀᴜ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
📖A mythic slow-burn, spiralin...
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━ ⭒─⭑━
Your hand stayed in Apollo's, warm and easy, like it had every right to be there. You walked beside him, past silver archways and flower-drunk halls, your fingers laced with his and your throat tight with everything you weren't saying.
He smiled like nothing was wrong.
You wondered if he'd even noticed the tremble in your grip. If he cared.
Soon, you both stopped just before a set of gilded double doors, carved with music notations that shifted as you looked at them, like they were still being written. The knobs were shaped like twin sunbursts.
Then he pushed open the doors.
The moment they parted, music hit you—not loud, not jarring. Soft. Gentle. Like a whisper pressed to your skin.
You stepped in slowly, your sandals brushing the threshold like it might bite you.
And then...
Your breath caught.
It wasn't a room. Not really. It was a sound.
A sound with walls and space and light.
Every inch of the chamber pulsed with music—layered, flowing, looping through the air like a living thing. The walls glowed with faint golden lines, shifting with the rhythm. The ceiling arched high above, curved like a lyre's frame, and every note that echoed seemed to make the light dance.
It wasn't loud.
It was constant.
Endless.
As if the room had been built to never fall silent. To never allow it.
You stood frozen.
Because you heard it.
You heard... you.
A melody drifted down from the rafters—low and sweet, threaded with something achingly familiar. You frowned, trying to place it.
And then it hit you.
You had hummed it once.
Only once.
In Ithaca. Alone in the garden. A half-tune you'd made up while watering the flowers on Penelope's windowsill, something silly and simple, a little crooked on the edges. You hadn't even remembered it until now.
But here?
Here, it had become a symphony.
Strings. Harps. Wind instruments you couldn't even name. The melody was richer now, wrapped in harmony, transformed into something elegant and whole. It climbed the walls like ivy. It sang your name in chords you hadn't known existed.
