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Apollo was staring into Thanatos’ eyes. His gaze was loving. And it wasn’t directed to Thanatos.
Thanatos’ eyes were always shocking to people meeting him for the first time. They always assumed his eyes were going to be black, like the night. In reality, it was gold. Gold like the ichor that sustained his body. However, it wasn’t just the color that shocked people. It was the reflection. It didn’t reflect like a normal eye. It reflected other’s lost loved ones. Their happiest moments.
It made sense Apollo would stare. Thanatos was sure Apollo thought he was being subtle. Apollo wasn’t. It was extremely obvious, even to observing pedestrians.
Thanatos didn’t tell Apollo that he was staring. He kinda enjoyed the attention he was being given. Not a lot of people wanted to pay attention to death. A healer who stared into Death’s eyes was an exception.
Apollo’s gaze was loving. Thanatos wondered what it would be like to be the source of that gaze. Not the remnants of the past reflected in the depths of his eyes. But the reason why Apollo would look at him like that.
Thanatos would never confess that. He could never confess it. That he wanted to be a subject of Apollo’s love. Death was supposed to be unbiased. And if it wasn’t evident with the staring from Apollo, he was the worse person for Death to be close with. Or the best depending on your point of view.
Thanatos was left to imagine. Imagine the loving gaze could, one day, be meant for him.
“Hey, Thanatos. Are you good?” the god with the too bright green eyes spoke.
No. That would never happen. So Thanatos was left to stare at the green eyes that has seen so much. And Apollo was left to stare at the golden past, not knowing the present loved him.