My Hope {Rewritten}

Mine

Nico found himself ensconced in a pair of tanned arms, pulling him into an embrace that radiated both strength and comfort. The warmth surrounding him felt oddly familiar, like an animal marking its territory. A shiver coursed through him as lips pressed against his neck, leaving him momentarily entranced. "What soft skin," a voice murmured against him, the words dripping with an unknown desire. "Perfect, just like you."

Those lips embarked on a journey, tracing every inch of bare skin within reach, and Nico, though he knew he should resist, surrendered to the alluring carnal desire. It felt right, being held in those protective arms, and he couldn't summon the will to pull away. Throwing his head back, Nico let it rest against the man's shoulder, succumbing to the pleasure induced by those wet lips and wandering hands. Moans escaped him, the son of Hades abandoning himself to the intoxicating sensations.

The blissful moment, however, was disrupted by an abrupt growl, commanding, "Leave!"

Nico assumed the command was directed at him, only to realize the possessive tone indicated otherwise. It was a directive to the animals and nature creatures. As the surroundings cleared, Nico found himself spun around and pressed against a tree, lips reclaiming his in a fierce kiss. Lost in the passion, they savored each other's taste until the need for oxygen forced them to part. Nico's knees wobbled, and he clutched the unknown man's biceps for support, his senses overwhelmed.

Dizzied and breathless, Nico felt steadied by the arms around his waist. An electric thrill raced through him as anticipation built—finally, he would see the face of the man who had stolen his first kiss. Drawing a deep breath, Nico looked up, locking eyes with a pair of breathtaking golden orbs. Recognition struck him like lightning—those eyes, they belonged to Apollo, the God of the sun, light, healing, music, archery, knowledge, and prophecy.

A momentary stillness engulfed Nico as he processed the revelation, and then, as if the world had shifted beneath him, he resumed breathing, albeit with a newfound awareness of the divine presence before him.

"Apollo... I just kissed Apollo," Nico murmured, mostly to himself, but the proximity allowed the god to hear, prompting a laugh from him. "Shut up! You just stole my first kiss!" Nico exclaimed with feigned anger, betrayed by the blush on his cheeks. "Why would you do that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" replied Apollo with a blinding smile, attempting to kiss the young demigod again. However, Nico halted him with a hand on his chest. The god's smile faded, and the atmosphere darkened. "Don't you want me?"

"Oh, please, Apollo, stop the act. I think our make-out session was enough for anyone to see that I wanted it," Nico remarked. The god's smile returned, and the warmth around them shifted from harsh to soothing. "But I won't be another one of your conquests that mean nothing to you. After all, the only thing you gods want from us mortals are just a warm hole to warm your... well, you get the idea."

All Nico desired was to lean into Apollo's embrace, forget about everything—his loneliness, his depression, his pain, and his frustration. There was a strange familiarity in being kissed by the god and held in his arms, as if he had experienced it before. Nico felt his soul singing and brightening in the god's presence. Yet, he restrained himself; he had promised after the encounter with Cupid that he would never again be a plaything of a god.

On the other hand, Apollo harbored a desire to curse Aphrodite and Cupid for the chaos they had unleashed. They had turned Nico's love life into a living Tartarus, leaving him with a deep-seated distrust of anyone showing interest in him. How could they do this to such a kind and forgiving man, the god wondered. Then again, they had done the same to me. Another thing we share, two lonely souls in search of a partner.

Apollo had never paid much attention to the son of Hades before, never even making eye contact. Nico reminded him of his uncle Hades, a connection the god associated with the deaths of all his children. However, when he heard the prayers of his last four mortal children, thanking him for sending them Nico and pleading that nothing would take him away, he felt compelled to investigate.

Apollo engaged in a conversation with Chiron, seeking to understand the situation before hastily making his way to where Nico was. The god's intention was to ensure that the demigod was fully aware of his gratitude. However, Apollo found himself frozen in place, captivated by the most enchanting voice he had ever heard, excluding his own.

Nico's voice surpassed the beauty of Apollo's muses, his own children, and even the celedons. It wasn't solely due to the demigod's musical prowess or perfect pitch; rather, it was the courage with which Nico bared his soul in song. Apollo, who was grappling with feelings of depression, anger, loneliness, and hopelessness, had a spark within him ignited, as he witnessed a tear slip from Nico's eye and gazing into those deep brown, almost black, eyes. The small flame of hope that Nico unconsciously kindled flickered to life in Apollo's sun.

Every emotion, every facet of his being was laid bare as he sang, and Apollo couldn't help but marvel at the sheer brilliance of Nico's soul. "What a gorgeous soul," Apollo mused to himself, realizing he had never seen one shine so brightly.

Now that Apollo truly looked at Nico, the god could truly appreciate the demigod's beauty. Despite the scars and the signs of malnourishment, there was an undeniable allure to Nico's appearance. His obsidian black curls framed his face in a way that seemed almost perfect, the high cheekbones could rival the sharpness of stone, and the paleness of his complexion only served to accentuate the depth of his dark, soulful eyes. In him, Apollo saw a different kind of beauty—one that contrasted and complemented his own. Nico's darkness stood in stark opposition to Apollo's light, creating a magnetic pull that the god found irresistibly captivating.

Determined not to let this perfect man slip away, Apollo resolved to defy any force that sought to separate them. Throughout his eternal life, the god had loved many mortals, only to lose them all. However, this time would be different. Apollo vowed not to let the son of Hades escape his embrace.

"You're not like that nymph, Daphne," Apollo whispered to Nico, his touch gentle as he caressed the demigod's cheek. "Do you know the myth? This is a different story, no Eros involved. I love you, Nico di Angelo, Ghost King, son of Hades, and Champion of Persephone. I'll make sure you understand that. Now, return to the infirmary and rest. Once you're healed, I'll take you on seven dates. If you haven't accepted my love by then, I won't force you into anything. But know this—I will never cease my pursuit of claiming you. You will be mine."

With those words, Nico found himself back in his infirmary room, Apollo gone, and his determination echoing in the air.

Author's note: I know that this chapter is way too cheesy and corny. But whenever I picture Apollo with any of his lovers, I imagine him being very romantic and with the ones he love very possessive. After all, he never had good luck in love.