Apollo walk with you through the wheat fields of Ancient Greece, holding your little hand as he carried his lyre in the other. His caramel skin warmed your hand as he came to sit in the middle of the field, you both were hidden from the mortals. (For the time being)

“ Now, my baby, what song should papa play for you? “

You giggled happily and reached for his golden lyre- To which he hesitantly pulled it away.

“ You— You want to play-? “

He made a face but tried to loosen up, carefully passing you is beloved lyre.

“ Just- be careful… Don’t drop it into the dirt. “