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Apollo took a slow, deliberate sip from his wine glass, relishing the golden liquid burning its rich taste on his tongue. Sluggishly lounging on the sands of his private island, he observed the vast expanse of the sea from a far, captivated by its ever-changing beauty, but unable to take a step closer.
Waves gently danced against the shore, orchestrating a soothing symphony, as if nature itself sought to soothe him. Whispering secrets only those of the ocean could comprehend, when the hurling tides teases and tickles his toes.
Despite sporting a stylish swimsuit, with flashy shades perching atop his nose, Apollo appeared unlike the sculpture of the other-worldy perfection the mortals knew him for. His eyes were worn, his skin lost its infamous tan colour. The golden locks turned to straw, his firm physique became saggy. Golden rays bathed his face, but his strained eyes betrayed a deep sadness that seemed to weigh heavily upon his heart.
Apollo closed his eyes, savouring the cool sweetness sliding down his throat, his thoughts drifting momentarily to the past. The moment was blissful solace—until a familiar giggle shattered it all.
Apollo's eyes flew open, spitting out his honeyed beverage, "Fuck!"
He bolted upright, his heart pounding as he turned towards the imposing figure casting a dark, towering shadow over him. The person exuded an unmistakable air of elegance, and as he removed his sunglasses, his heart skipped a beat involuntarily.
She looked down at him, her neutral expression transforming into a stunning smile. Her flawless, dark skin glowed like polished wood in the sunlight, accentuating her curves. Dressed in a tight black-and-white zebra-striped swimsuit with vintage sunglasses perched atop her head, she exuded the allure of a classic pin-up doll. Her tightly curled hair spilled down her back, accentuating her dark eyes. But as Apollo watches, they turned lighter and lighter, shifting in hue, to a dazzling green. He ignored it.
“Aphrodite!” Apollo hissed. Her giggles immediately gave him a sugar rush, and he wasn’t even mortal.
"I have to say," Aphrodite cooed, her voice oozing with a mischievous charm, "This scandal has to be one of the most romantic things since Helen of Troy," She followed with a melodramatic sigh, fluttering her long lashes.
If they had existed in a cartoon, Apollo wagered he would've seen the reflection of throbbing red love hearts in her eyes.
"Sleeping Beauty from the 50s, wasn't it? Ah, the mortal world and their folk-tale romance movies." She muses after a moment of silence, clearly amused. "Well well, dear, looks like you're the Prince Phillip in this fairytale, and Percy's a sleepy little Jackson!"
Apollo couldn't help but clench his fists at Aphrodite's theatrics. He struggled to maintain his composure, forcing words out through gritted teeth, “Find your own private island elsewhere, Aphrodite. I'm not in the mood for your lovey-dovey distractions.”
“Oh, please,” Aphrodite audibly rolls her eyes at his antics. “I just wanted to check up on you! Can’t friends do that?”
“Pretty sure we aren’t friends,” Apollo frowned, then glances down at his half-empty glass. He had lost track of the countless bottles he’d consumed over the past two days, not that he ever originally bothered to keep count. “I’m pretty sure we stopped being friends when your son screwed me over…Or maybe we were never friends, that would make more sense.”
“Bullies get what they deserve, Apollo,” Aphrodite answered, unapologetic. Of course, it's hard to gather sympathy from someone who regularly makes mortals fall in love with animals. Ugh. “Maybe it was a bit childish, but that was so long ago. And we’ve had fun since then, haven’t we?”
“Go have fun with Hermes,” Apollo scoffed. “I’m busy. I have nothing to say to you.”
“You have things to say to Percy Jackson, though,” Aphrodite said, smug as ever. She looked thrilled seeing the way Apollo stiffens at that, knowing exactly what she meant. “Promises to make. Are you going to pretend running away from your feelings will magically make Percy wake up?”
"Don't get involved," Apollo closed his eyes, and shakes his head. "Don't tell me you're behind any of this. Just leave me alone."
"Apollo, once again I insist, I have nothing to do with your relationship, other than watching over one of your dates. Or two,"
Apollo could picture her twirling her hair in between her fingers, laying on a cloud and being served wine by some poor nymphs, using her rhinestone binocular to stalk them walking along the beach.
It wasn't a date! Apollo wanted to shout, but knows that if he did, that would be a disgraceful beginning to a meltdown.
She shrugged, feigning innocence. "I'm just trying to give you advice! Love advice! You know how expensive that can be coming from me. You're moping and you know it. And when you're moping, bad things happen. Did you hear about the virus outbreak in China?"
"Wasn't me," Apollo huffed. "I think."
Aphrodite chuckled, her laughter like the tinkling of wind chimes, "Whatever, you handled it anyways—and now, we must handle this."
Apollo's stare shifted towards her, and he meets a completely different face from before—sea green eyes, dark hair, sun-kissed skin, a surfer's cocky grin. "Bah, woman! You're insane!"
"Insanely into this retelling of Sleeping Beauty!…Just less princess-y, and more demigod-y," She twirled a curly lock of Percy's hair around her finger, sea green eyes twinkling mischievously. "It's the new hot topic of Olympus right now, Apollo, and I always follow the trends."
Apollo let out a resigned sigh as Aphrodite plopped down beside him on the warm sand. He couldn’t help but notice how she slowly edges closer, invading his personal space.
Aphrodite pointed at his half-full wine glass, purring with honeyed sweetness. "Dear, can I have some of that? I'm absolutely famished from attending Zeus' tedious meetings all day!"
Apollo resisted the urge to spill it over her swimsuit and quickly sips the wine. Aphrodite frowned at him when he hands her the empty wine glass.
Averting his eyes from her intoxicating presence, his gaze fixates on the water stretched out before him, the horizon, where the sun meets the sea. Apollo couldn't bear to look at her any longer, for she has taken the form of his most recent infatuation. A cruel reminder that mocks the love he could’ve had. It only added salt to his wounds, lost within the depths of his sorrow—wearing Perseus' face, while Percy laid silent.
Though, she doesn't look as nearly as beautiful as Percy Jackson does—there was more to him than his father's dashing looks, mixed with Sally Jackson's everything. Percy was such a unique blend, in both personality and looks, his beating heart too pure with an aura as bright as the stars. Apollo wondered if the Fates decided Percy’s life should get a few setbacks to even it out. The curse of eternal sleep just adds to the list of the ill-fated destiny that Percy had and will face alone. It was such a cruel thought.
"Alright, dear, talk to me." Aphrodite admitted in the end, after a few minutes of silence, as if she was thinking about it too. Aphrodite dipped the wine glass into the upcoming tide and drinks the sea foam. Apollo side eyed her. "Think of this as, hmmm, therapy. One of my old mortal disguises was a marriage counsellor, you know, and I learned a few tricks. Dealing with delicious drama has tragically became a time of the ancient past, but it’s still my favourite past time once in a decade.”
Aphrodite giggled; such a weird noise to come from 'Percy's' mouth.
"You are annoying." Apollo muttered, his tone as deadpan as he was tired. He caressed his forehead, and wishes the tides would capture the goddess already. "Very annoying."
"Annoying? Oh, I didn't realise my mere presence could have such an effect on the great Apollo." A coy smile tugged at the corner of her lips, seeming to know full well of the intense impact her form has on him.
His jaw clenched, and without another word, he rose from his spot in the sand. But before he could take a step back, Aphrodite's delicate hand grasped his wrist, pulling him back onto the sand like an invisible force.
Aphrodite's coral lips curled, "Oh, come now, darling. You know I only tease because you take it so seriously."
His dry blue eyes narrow at her remorseless glee, "This is not a joke, Aphrodite. You've gone too far this time."
"Why?" She leans close to his chest, uncomfortably. Apollo stares up into Percy's sparkling ocean eyes, "Why is this not a joke, Apollo? Why have I gone too far?"
Apollo splutters, suddenly tongue tied. Eventually, he composes himself. "Because— Because you're joking about a dear- friend of mines who's been cursed and hasn't woken up yet!"
"And this is really upsetting you, yes?" Aphrodite leans back, her expression becoming more solemn. "That's why you've been stuck on this hideous island for the past two days. You're upset that your dear-“ She frowns sharply, “friend's curse hasn't been lifted and you don't think you possess the power to do anything about it. It's eating you up inside, and you're filling that miserable hole up with wine. Frankly, sickening wine as well."
She looks down at the wine glass for a moment, and then, with a sudden burst of energy, she launches the glass out into the boundless ocean. It sails through the air, before disappearing into the depths with a soft splash.
"Hey! That was a gift!" From Sally Jackson, Apollo wants to shout, but Aphrodite still wouldn't care either way.
"It's time to let go of the bottle and embrace the power that you do have." Aphrodite gently urges, her voice carrying a mesmerising, but forte, tune.
He turns back to face the ocean, searching the limitless waves to see if the glass is staying afloat, his heart pounding.
It struggles to the surface, swaying precariously with each crest and trough. It suddenly reminded him of his own fragile state, of the sorrow that had become a constant companion over the last two days, weighing him down like an anchor, the wine as his crutch.
He had drowned his grief and remorse in countless glasses, seeking solace in the numbing embrace of drunkenness. But with each sip, he had only succeeded in emptying himself of purpose, leaving behind an empty vessel longing to be filled.
The memory of Percy humming along with him - so simpatico and profound - before he got struck lingers in Apollo's mind like a bittersweet melody. He should have never left him with his father, but self-doubt had clouded his judgment.
Apollo believed, deep down, that Percy would never love him in return. Percy's affection for Annabeth hadn’t faded when they first started talking as actual friends, and even after half a year, Apollo still believes that Percy's feelings hasn't lost its colour.
He had noticed how Percy would shoot wistful glances at magazine covers with blonde models on it; blonde men - initially, he had hope, until he noticed a paper highlighting a slender woman with princess curls. When Apollo would share gossip about the new godly couples getting together, Percy would grimace back with a forcefully interested smile. Apollo had stopped hinting at the possibility of them going on a date since, because Percy always appears distressed at the mention of one, and there were so much more signs that makes Apollo's heart longingly ache.
He had been cursed with a lifetime of unrequited love, and yet, still watches those who he dared care for suffer the consequences.
Apollo feels a soft touch on his shoulder, caressing it, and tears wells in his eyes. "Tell me, Apollon. Tell me what happened to your beloved Percy Jackson."
And so he tells her every detail that he would never forget.
Aphrodite stays quiet, for once, perhaps detecting the pain and the seriousness of his words. She doesn’t leave, though, which means she has more to say, and Apollo patiently waits, running his fingers through the sand, feeling its comforting texture.
As he sat there, lost in his thoughts, Apollo couldn't help but dwell on his affections. It consumed him, an unstoppable force that surged through his veins like the relentless crashing waves against the shore.
From the moment they reunited on the beach since his mortal trials, Percy had effortlessly captivated Apollo.
Together, they had strolled along the shoreline, deeply engaged in their conversations about what they had each missed in their separate worlds. However, while Percy would blabber, Apollo could rarely listen because he was too honed in by how ethereal Percy had looked against the sun’s light. The wind tousling his sea-soaked hair, his arms beautifully tatooed with scars.
Especially when Percy laid on the beach next to him, his eyes filled with an appreciation for the simple beauty of the world, how he so openly cherishes places like these, holding them dear to his heart. How the beautiful man would just talk and talk and talk with emotions the god used to think couldn’t ever be breathed. In those moments, time stood still, and Apollo treasured every precious second they spent fooling around on the sand hand in hand.
The love was a tempestuous sea, a force of nature that could not be tamed. With each passing day, his infatuation for the demigod grew stronger, wrapping around him like an invisible cloak, cherishing every single moment spent with the man who had captured his heart.
But these feelings were a secret burden Apollo had carried within him, hidden from the prying eyes of the gods, and he struggled to conceal it from himself too.
No. No, not even Aphrodite could possibly understand the situation he's in, or the depth of his tumultuous feelings—'marriage counsellor', or not.
Not fully. No Olympian can, because they have selfish ways of fixing them that he doesn't indulge in anymore.
“I envy you, you know?” She finally speaks up, voice serious and low— so unlike her. Apollo swallows a lump in his throat, unsure how to respond. “You’ve always been like this.”
“Like what?” Apollo asks, uneasy.
This is really weird, and he can’t possibly imagine what Aphrodite would be jealous of in regards to him. They’re both Patrons of Beauty, so even if he’s obviously prettier than her—he would never say this out loud because he doesn’t have a death wish, of course—there’s nothing else that he can think of to propose bitterness, particually now when Apollo’s looking almost close to death to mortal standards.
“You have what we gods lack, what even my children and I lack, unless they’re mortals,” A pause, a sigh. Her tone becomes accusatory. “The capacity for unconditional love, you fool. We gods, as you know, like to be shown appreciation for our love. We love the undivided attention more than we do the person, sometimes, but you always wished you could join them. Your tears of despair after Hyacinthus died and your refusal to move on were enough proof of it. And now you’re here, repeating the same cycle of suffering, more human and more capable of love than ever, and you’re wasting time.”
Apollo attempts to process all of that through his shock, but he still comes up short. “What are you saying?”
“No, I'm tired of you,” Aphrodite makes a displeased sound. “See, this is why you and Percy Jackson need each other. Both of you, sad, miserable heroes, when you could have it all. You’ll realise soon enough that you can’t keep love waiting, dear, no matter how hard you try. Unlike you, I’m not afraid of looking Fate in the eye. Percy Jackson will put your silly little heart back together, whether you like it or not. I believe that this curse is a. . .little push, don't you think? A rebirth of some sort, to mend both pieces of your shattered hearts as one."
Apollo stares at Aphrodite, his eyes burning with a volatile mixture of anger and desperation. "You think Percy Jackson can fix me? That demigod has no true idea what he's getting into, the curse is just the beginning- His end."
Aphrodite raises a shaped eyebrow, a sly smile playing on her plush lips, still staring at the ocean waves. "Oh, Apollo, you underestimate the power of love. Love can conquer even the darkest of spells. Percy has faced many challenges before, and he has always come out victorious. You, dear, could be a champion too."
She meets his eyes, and Apollo used to see many faces there, a Spartan prince and an innocent nymph, a warrior queen and an emperor, a humble Shepard and a Thessalian princess. Now, all he sees is the horizon, where the sun meets the sea, and the terror of the truth.
He clench his fists, "Love has never been kind to me. It's always been an illusion, a cruel joke. I've watched countless of mortals fall in love and be destroyed. I refuse to let myself be another victim."
"You're scared," Aphrodite concludes, genuinely kind for once. And then, with a stronger tone. "But I gave birth to fear, Apollo. It's okay. I trust you'll get it right."
Apollo raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“I’m an expert at compatibility, dear,” Aphrodite smile remains steady and soft as the salty breeze against Apollo's back. “You’re a god, one of the most powerful ones in Olympus when it comes to domains, at that. The ideal kouros, perhaps even the most equally loved and feared of us throughout history—act like it. Your heart is so soft, Apollo, it always has been. That, your sister and I agree on. You both need a boost in confidence. You get along. You understand each other. You’re both a middle point between gods and mortals, in several ways. Percy Jackson. . .well, you’d know better than I do. Don’t waste this chance.”
Apollo soaks in the severity in Aphrodite’s voice, and wonders. It would serve him right to listen, for once.
He couldn't deny the authenticity in her words. He had spent centuries hiding behind his charisma and laughter, fearing to fall from vulnerability and rejection. His heart, once burdened with uncertainty, now beat with a newfound clarity.
He had to save Percy Jackson. Even if the sleeping curse won’t be lifted by him, he will shoot his shot for that hope, and that’ll be the bravest thing he could ever do.
Apollo takes a deep breath and nods. Alright. "That's the nicest thing you've said to me in forever."
"Don't mention it," Aphrodite winks. The familiarity of her gesture with Percy's face stung Apollo deep within his chest, but rather than succumbing to the feeling of tragedy, determination took its place. "You'd make a wonderful pair— Already do! Oh, darling, just imagine the enchanting future that awaits you; a magical wedding, dashing children! I can already see the Happily-Ever-After, Apollo! Just leave this tasteless island and give Percy that one True Love's Kiss—!"
"Alright, stop being excited." Apollo couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter at Aphrodite's contagious excitement, nudging her gently with his elbow. It was easy for Aphrodite to be enthusiastic about fairytales. After all, she possesses the power to awaken Sleeping Beauties with a single smile.
He bites the inside of his cheek, and tries to relax, taking a deep breath. "I'll go to him."
"Oh, thank the heavens! I knew you would finally see reason, god of Logic." Aphrodite beams with a sigh of relief, adjusting her tight swimming attire. "Playing the role of my dear Doris Amy from 1962 is proving to be far more demanding than I remember. I'm glad this long-waited session has been successful, and oh, there's no refund! Now, go. Find Percy, and don't disappoint him, or I'll send Anteros after you, you foolish light. Embrace your destiny! And when you do, don't forget to invite me to the wedding."
He knows that Aphrodite's presence at any wedding would be the catalyst to unpredictable chaos, but he wouldn't have it any other way. His lips curls, "Don't expect a wedding invitation just yet."
A playful grin spreads across Aphrodite's youthful face, "Oh, but I'm counting on it, dear Apollo. And trust me, it will be a wedding for the ages."
Aphrodite finally rises, brushing gritty sand from her sculpted thighs. She gives him one more downward glance, adorning Apollo's beloved’s face, and she smiles with his beautiful lips. "I believe in you, god of the Sun, and of so much more," She whispers, her voice laced with unwavering faith. "Percy Jackson will find his way back to you and you'll discover a love that'll set you both free. Remember this, love conquers all."
With a click of a finger, she vanishes, leaving behind a gentle puff of magic in the form of a dove. Aphrodite soars through the sky, lingering the faint scent of roses and a trail of golden dust, and Apollo watches her depart, thankful.
He looks back at the sun, setting below the sea, and decides it was time to go before it got too late.
Percy, his heart whispers a promise: to take a chance on True Love, to let it guide him towards his own Happily Ever After.
"I will wait for you, Percy, and when you return, our love will burn brighter than the sun itself."