Chapter 4 APOLLO

Today was the big day, the day when Daphne was finally going to deliver the painting to her much-talked-about special someone.

The brunette had talked so much about that moment, she had been so excited, so happy that even Apollo couldn't help but cheer for her in that situation.

"Would it be a friend? A boyfriend?..." He couldn't help but speculate in his pretty little head.

In the end, it didn't matter.

It didn't matter because two happy people should be hugging each other at that very moment.

"Maybe I should paint something..." he muttered to himself "I need paintings for my next exhibition..."

He looked and looked at the walls of his studio, looked and looked at the window, and nothing interesting.

Nothing to hold his attention, nothing to make him think about anything.

The worst nightmare for anyone who calls themself an artist: is the art block; also known as the black hole that every artist will get stuck in at some point in their life.

And if any layman doesn't know what I am talking about at this point, consider yourself lucky.

Extremely lucky.

"Maybe... the store is a good idea?" He began to look again at the window, thus seeing the dark clouds approaching.

It was going to rain, but he couldn't afford to wait for a sun-filled day to come to him, not when he kept thinking that he would soon be billed by his sponsors.

Well, he would have to leave the house anyway to get something done.

He left.

He went to the store.

He went out to the balcony.

It was raining.

"At least the waters waited for me," the blond man didn't help but joke, and then laughed at the people who still hadn't found shelter and who were running so that their bodies wouldn't get that wet.

But while he was finding the misfortune of others amusing, one of the silhouettes looked familiar.

Daphne.

Her clothes and hair were completely wet and her painting...was in her Arms...

"Daphne!" He shouted from the balcony "DAPHNE! ARE YOU OKAY?" He tried one more time, and when he saw that it wouldn't do any good he just walked over to her with his umbrella.

She... was crying.

Crying, sobbing, and holding herself back from screaming to the four winds probably.

"What happened to you? Why didn't you deliver the present?" The blond asked worriedly.

But the brunette was just crying, which caused Apollo to carry her into the store and tuck her in somewhere.

"Would you like some water? Something warm to drink?" he speaks with a desperate tone not knowing what to do, what to talk about.

"You don't have to worry about me that much" was the first sentence that was uttered by her "I am... fine."

"Of course you are" he spoke wryly "So fine that you are crying and hugging a painting."

He had said too much, he shouldn't have spoken with that tone.

"Yeah... you're right" she sobbed back "there's no way I can lie right now, is there?" She tried to smile, but because of her tears, her lips were trembling.

"Then please don't lie" the blonde practically begged, "ask for whatever you need and if you want... tell me what happened."

Her body looked reluctant as she squeezed the painting she had made even tighter, as if she was wondering whether or not she should share this with a stranger, with a person she had met only a few days ago.

Well, Apollo couldn't blame her for questioning, could he? Not when he was just a random man who was just standing there.

"I..." Daphne finally opened her mouth to say something "I caught my boyfriend with another woman when I went to deliver the gift..."

The golden eyes widened.

The blonde didn't know what to feel at that moment. He didn't know whether to let the anger consume him, the sadness at seeing her like that spread.

"I'm... I'm sorry" were the only words that managed to come out through his lips "I'm really sorry..."

"You don't have to..." the brunette sniffled "I will... get over it at some point, I know I will."

Yes, Apollo knew she would, but how long would it take? How many years would it take for that little heart to heal and put all the pieces together? It seemed like it would last longer than the existence of the gods.