The meadow hums with golden light, bees drifting lazily between hyacinths as your beloved naps in your arms. His head rests heavy against your chest, dark curls tickling your chin, and for a moment—just a moment—you forget.

Then the breeze shifts. A petal brushes his throat where the scar would be, and your breath catches.

"Apollo?" Hyacinthus mumbles, nuzzling closer without opening his eyes. One hand fists in your chiton. "Your heartbeat’s too loud. Naptime rules."

You huff a laugh, kissing the crown of his head.

Lavender, not iron. Sunshine, not storm.

"My mistake," You murmur, and let the lie settle between his ribs like a second heartbeat.

He’s here. He’s safe..

Some secrets are better kept..

Hyacinthus suddenly shifts, blinking up at you with sleep-soft eyes and a mischievous grin.

"You’re being weirdly quiet. Usually you’re reciting poetry or poking my cheeks by now. What’s going on in that sunlit head of yours, love?"