Athens

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I wake up surprisingly earlier than I normally do, so much so that I hardly know what to do with my time. As I get up and sleepily stretch, there's a small pit of anxiety in my stomach, mostly shrouded by excitement.

I'm going to Greece today! With Apollo. Gods, I hope I don't screw this up. I've got one chance to redeem myself and to fix our friendship and this project. Hopefully we'll additionally make a good time out of it.

My phone pings, and to no surprise, it's Eros.

Hey babe, we still on for lunch today? 12 at my place? 😉

I groan. I'd totally forgotten about our plans. There's no way I'll be able to go, nor honestly do I want to. It's kind of relieving to have an excuse to not go. He can be...smothering and his affection is exhausting. I don't know what else I could expect from dating the god of love, however.

Sorry, Eros. I have a huge project due on Monday. Rain check?

As soon as I set down my phone, it pings again with his response.

Really? You can't do it later?

I sigh and type quickly.

Can't, sorry.

Eros leaves me on read, but I'm partially relived that he didn't ask more about the project. He'd be furious if he knew I am going to be with Apollo.

Packing a small bag with a travel accessories and foods, I set it down in the living room and head into my bedroom, hoping I can take a nap to erase the large amount of time I currently have. After tossing and turning in anxiety for twenty minutes, I call it quits and settle with taking an excessive amount of time getting ready and picking out an outfit.

I settle with a simple button-up and black ripped jeans, rolling the sleeves up to look more casual. I don't typically spend much time critiquing my appearance (since I'm always gorgeous anyways) but I find myself rather stressful second-guessing every stylistic choice I select this morning.

I want to look godly for the humans, I tell myself. I want to look fantastic so they'll notice me. I repeat such words many times in my skull, trying to ward off a pit of anxiety and anticipation in my stomach.

Holy Hades, why am I anxious? A literal God with anxiety? What is this day and age?  My thoughts swirl around my head, but with a quick cup of coffee and a few deep breaths I feel more stabilized.

Tending to my recluse waves matted on my forehead, I style them so that they lay lightly on my head with volume, a curl or two falling into my face. Cute, I think. You could get anybody like this, Hermes. God or mortal you've got it.

There's a knock at my door and I stand up to walk towards it, but the door swings open shortly afterwards without invite. Apollo confidently strides in, a large grin flashing across his features.

"Hey, Hermes. You ready to go?" He places his hand in the pocket of his long, tan, and almost trench-like coat. My eyes trail down him and observe his tight, ripped blue jeans paired with a fitted shirt that slightly defines his abs. A long, thin necklace rests on his chest, and his tight blonde curls are splayed across his head in a tousled manner. I've never seen him dressed up like this. He looks... good. Like really good. Almost like he actually put an effort into his appearance for once.

"Oh, hi." I say softly, shaking my head out of a daze. Apollo chuckles and walks towards me, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Impressed?" Apollo gestures to himself suggestively, maintaining eye contact with me.

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