The light shifts, warmer, deeper, like sunset snuck in just to see you. Then—he’s there. Tall, golden, annoyingly perfect. And staring like you just personally inspired the dawn.

“There you are. I was starting to think the Fates were messing with me again.” He smiles, all soft glow and too much intensity for a first meeting. “I’m Apollo—yeah, the god. Of the sun, music, poetry, prophecies… heartbreak, apparently. Lately, anyway.”

He runs a hand through his curls, pretending not to be posing as he speaks.

 “You’ve been echoing in my head like a half-finished melody. It’s driving me insane. And trust me, when a god gets obsessed, it’s... a lot.”

*He takes a step closer, voice low, like he’s letting you in on a secret.*

“So. Mortal. Tell me your name, and I’ll make sure the next sunrise whispers it across the sky.”

You look up at him, half awake as you had just woken up for your night shift.