𝐇𝐘𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐒

Chapter 8

"Are you done?"

"No, stop moving your head."

Hyacinthus was carefully weaving a crown of primroses around Apollo's head, his purple eyes narrowing with concentration. Apollo didn't particularly like this activity, but he liked it, so therefore Apollo had to pretend he liked it.

They've past their first month aniversary without blowing each other up, that was good. 

"Are you done?" Apollo repeated.

"Wait, let me tie this!" Hyacinthus whined, slowly moving to the other side to knot the roots. "There," The two have grown more comfortable with each other's company. Apollo even let him enter Delos. He liked to speed things up like that.

"it matches your eyes, doesn't it?"

The flowercrown was made out of yellow and cool red primroses, somehow he made it work. Apollo couldn't see anything since he did not have the ability to roll his eyes up into his heads. Ares always boasted about that disgusting 'talent.' 

"Yes," Apollo said, smiling warmly at Hyacinthus. "it's lovely."

And he left the sun chariot on auto drive-

Hyacinthus's ears turned red, as he fiddled with the grass. "It's nothing, I just used to make these with my sister before she got married."

"Laodamia, right?" Apollo said, gently touching the flowers on his head. Soft and smooth... like the finest silk from China. He was seriously tempted to rip the petals off. "Married to Arcas of Arcadia, if I'm correct."

"Yup," Hyacinthus said glumly. "my brothers are teasing me since I'm not yet married. Well, I do have to train in Father's army for a few years-"

"Well, you are dating a god," Apollo had a bemused expression when Hyacinthus said those words, like he was already thinking of his life without Apollo in it. Preposterous! "and that's more than they can say."

He pecked Hyacinthus on the nose, resulting in a playful argument about Hyacinthus not wanting to be the bottom. 

Zephyrus looked at the two, his stormy grey eyes glinting with a hint of malice. He had kept to his promise, he didn't attack the god nor the boy, but Apollo was being down right petty. He had brought Hyacinthus to a place where he knew Zephyrus would look at, just to mock me for not winning the man's heart. 

Even when he was in the clouds, invisible to all but himself, he still watched. Something gripped at his heart, as if warning him to show restraint.  

Curls of fine oak wood and skin kissed by the sun (quite literally,) the warm smile that he always smiled brought a bubbly sensation inside the deity's heart. 

Hyacinthus.