heliocentric║greek mythology

zero

The girl cut a forlorn figure as she stared off into torrential rain with eyes as grey as the storm clouds brewing overhead. She sat against the billboard of a bus station, its overhang the only thing sheltering her from the relentless downpour.

She considered using what little money she had left to board a bus and see where it took her. But she was tired of floating aimlessly on a bus with no destination in mind.

The bus rolled to a stop in front of her, but she shook her head at the bus driver. No. I'm not going anywhere. Disgusted, he started the bus again, making sure to splash through a puddle just to splash muddy rainwater all over her clothing.

So much for staying dry she thought. Seeing as she no longer needed the bus station overhang to keep dry, she should've risen and braved the rain, but she couldn't muster the strength she needed to get up.

Maybe it was her growling stomach or plain lethargy. No matter the reason, she was going to wait out the summer thunderstorm.

Almost as if he was stepping out of the rain, a figure appeared in front of her.

He seemed almost brighter than the gray shades around him, with a golden halo of hair and eyes the color of a cloudless sky.

But it was the kind smile on his face that warmed her the most.

Her sopping clothes felt like an anchor pulling her to the ground, but she looked up at him nonetheless. She must have cut a pathetic figure, a fifteen year old girl covered in grime and shivering in clothes too big for her.

To her astonishment, he bent down and held out his hand. She looked out his outstretched doubtfully, unsure if it wasn't just another cruel trick.

"Why are you helping me?" Her voice was scratchy from disuse.

He studied her with kind eyes and she felt an inexplicable warmth spreading through her, replacing the icy feeling of being chilled to the bone.

"Because the world could always use more light."

She didn't like the feeling of being some kind of charity case, but she accepted his hand nonetheless. His hand dwarfed her own, engulfing her hand in a comforting warmth.

"Who are you?" she asked, coughing. He frowned and the itch at the back of her throat disappeared.

"I have been given many names. But you can call me Phoebus Apollo."