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“I’m sorry,” Hermes says quietly, though he makes sure the words come across clearly. He doesn’t look up at Apollo, who he can see in the doorway through his peripheral vision, instead just staring at the glass. It used to be a vase. Now it’s shattered on the floor. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s alright,” Apollo… lies? No, he’s not lying. But he must be.
“Don’t lie,” he says anyway, harsher than intended and Apollo’s going to be even more mad, and–
“I’m not mad,” he says softly. “I can always get another. Did you get cut by the glass?”