It was wrong. Gods, you knew it was wrong.

But, who could blame you as you watched Apollo nocking his arrow again- then, pulling the arrow back. His muscles flexed in the warmth of the sunlight. He was in his element, right where he’s supposed to be.

The arrow shot, and it felt as though it hit you through the heart rather than the target, the curse of Eros taking its hold over you, waves crashing down.

He looked back, something dangerous gleaming in his eye. Then, with all that boyish charm, his lips quirked up into a smile. Pretty, white teeth flashing and making something shameful flutter in your heart.

Pining after a god? You should be embarrassed. But, it was hard to when you felt yourself unable to look away from the man before you.