[ A Y E A R A F T E R H I S G O D C O M P L E X ]
Gayle Lovegrove is starting over. The wayward waitress has given up her high-profile life and sure-fire future to become a waitress in a small town far away.
So what happens when she finds a...
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G A Y L E
06. the two worlds of thalia thorton
I'M VIOLENTLY PUSHED ASIDE when Ares, god of war and masculinity decides to inundate his brother in a tight, strong hug. "Apollo?" He says again, mouth agape and brown eyes wide in bewilderment as they scan over him to make sure that it really is Apollo, that he's back from the dead.
His bushy eyebrows furrow in confusion as he takes in his brother's attire; a t-shirt fit to be worn by a giant accompanied only by a pair of white undies and matching socks.
We couldn't find any pants that would fit him, okay?
The ghost of a smile lingers on Ares' pink lips as Apollo's mouth darts open to defend himself. Ares holds up a palm, almost as if to say I don't even wanna know... and snaps his fingers.
At the snap of his fingers, my beloved plain white t-shirt is then transfigured into a pair of blue jeans that hugs Apollo's lean swimmer body perfectly. And a proper white t-shirt with a picture of a bright yellow sun on the front. The cookie crumbs littered on the sides of his pink lips fall away as his hair gels itself backwards and silver rings wrap around his fingers, but I'm not close enough to see what they all say or represent.
He cleans up nice.
The grin won't wipe off of Ares' face as he pulls Apollo back into another brotherly hug, his hand violently clasps his back and pats it in a way that's meant to be awkward, but for some reason warms my heart.
Images are flashing in my brain and constantly, I have to remind myself that I was there the day Apollo died. I watched the colour drain from the then battered and bruised Ares' face and the light leave his eyes.
I struggle to keep my breathing steady. This is for real. This is happening. I pinch my arm to remind myself that this is real life.
"Alright that's quite enough, brother, we have spectators." Says Apollo, whose cheeks are turning redder the longer he's engaged in the hug.
Ares lets him go, but quickly squishes Apollo's face between his fingers before he can get away. Apollo groans as the war god chuckles light-heartedly.
Any and every trace of superciliousness has evaporated. "You have rendered me speechless, Apollo. I have so many questions. How did you get out? Why have I not felt your presence? How long have you been out?" Ares has long forgotten my presence in his vicinity, and pushes by me with Apollo hot on his heel.
