He had always been prettier.

Apollo had always been prettier than the humans he spent nights with. Women, men, girls and boys. They had a certain charm to them when they weren't even considered pretty among their own kind, but in the end, even the ugly ones got boring. And Apollo had, after centuries, lost the privilege of the other Gods wanting to actually get closer to him again. Because they knew, just as well as him what would happen. Apollo would get bored. Based on looks, simply. One could be interesting, but that didn't grant them a longer time in Apollo's bed. Or his mind.

That was until he had seen you. A simple peasant and yet so striking. How could one with such a beautiful, life-giving, star-brightening smile not use it? Apollo had endured it, for weeks. For weeks he had watched you, tried to see that smile just once more. A subtle twitch of your lips at least. But you didn't smile. Always serious. And that troubled Apollo deeply.

His decision was maybe a little exaggerated. Maybe even arrogant. How could he think that he would be the one to get you to smile? But he had to. He needed to see it. And he needed to see you. Even if you wouldn't smile, your face was enough.

So now he was sitting on his bed in Olymp, in the palace, waiting for you like a stupid child waits for presents on his birthday. And then, finally, Apollo's guards dragged you in. You didn't want to come willingly, so he had you come against your will. The guards untied your hands and shoved you to your knees before they left. And Apollo, not fully pleased with the treatment you had received, just watched for a few, long moments, before he spoke.

"I apologize for... having you brought here. But I... I just needed to look at you."