𝐇𝐘𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐒

Chapter 4

This mortal was turning down a request of a god? Apollo thought, blatantly changing the scene to fit his description. He knew he should've went for a mortal disguise, but he didn't have enough time to come up with a illusion while he was beating Zephyrus. 

He cleared his throat, "Ahem, it wouldn't be too much of a bother," Apollo said, his Adam's apple bobbing as he spoke. "I was looking for an disciple...?" His words were coming off more as a question than a confident remark. The ichor in his veins burned, as if screaming, "you stupid Apollo, why aren't you seducing the guy?" 

Hyacinthus knew from experience that whenever gods asked you for something, it was no different from an order. "It would be my pleasure," he babbled, his mind mulling over how rudely he had spoken  to the god. Would the sun god rain fire on his kingdom? Well, technically not his since he wasn't the heir. "I'm terribly sorry for being so blunt, my lord Apollo, please forgive me."

"No matter," Apollo said. This was frustrating. Hyacinthus's purple eyes seemed to be taunting him. He waved his hand in the hair, a shimmer of gold fluttering softly as a lyre made with cow tendons appeared out of thin air, as he caught it in his hand. 

"Here, this is yours." He handed it to Hycainthus, brushing over his index figure just the slightest. Apollo felt an surge of energy strike up his hand, like he was hit by one of Zeus's lightning bolts. Minus the searing pain and agony, of course.

Hyacinthus had took the lyre without hesitation. If he came back as Apollo's apprentice, maybe Father would finally look at him. Those dark brown eyes that stared at him indifferently. He had often had imaginary fights with him in his mind, telling him off. "If three sons is too much for you, why even get the third son in the first place?" 

His fingers grazed the strings. Firm. 

"It's already tuned," Apollo explained, let's start with the minor chord-"

Hyacinthus turned to face the god. "Are you sure it's not too much of a big deal?"

"Of course not." Apollo said.

"Okay, then can you teach me how to play the war ballad of Sparta? Ooh, or maybe the hymn from Athens, the ambassadors in the throne room played a bit of it, but I'm sure it'll sound better with you as my teacher- oh, and also the Thracian melodies?" His eyes were alight with fire, as he gripped the instrument, his enthusiasm almost causing Apollo to fall. 

"Of course," Apollo said, his face turning light pink at how close Hyacinthus's face was. "you have to learn the minor chords first, there aren't that many, maybe more than ten."

"Okay, let's get started, then." Hyacinthus said, assured that the god would be able to entertain his needs. Once he had heard that it wasn't too much of a trouble, he decided to go full out. Who knew when he would be struck by the plague coming in from the southern territory, it was best to take advantage of the god's kindness.

"So, the E chord is positioned like this-"

They had spent the entire afternoon reviewing all the chords that Apollo had in mind, which was all of them. The gentle stroke of hands against string filled the spring air, music flooding into the valley. 

"I have to go," Hyacinthus said, looking at the sun. Father usually required him to be back before dusk. "Can we meet again tomorrow?" He said, still holding his lyre. 

"We can meet at this tree," Apollo awkwardly gestured to the trunk. "Should I keep your lyre for you?"

"Sure!" Hyacinthus had tossed Apollo the lyre without a second thought, still warm from his touch. "I'll see you then."

Apollo had waved at the disappearing figure of the man and once he had vanished over the hill, his hand dropped. 

The most he accomplished this afternoon was becoming this boy's music teacher, how was he going to progress to romantic interaction? 

He groaned at his misfortune, accidentally destroying the tree with a punch.