Chapter Text
Delos has become my home, but it is another feeling entirely to return to the temple. It warms me inside, wraps about me and consumes me. It is my heart and my peace.
I like it even better now. When we left for the quest, I never could have dreamed that when I returned, I would be immortal and married to Apollo. I slept alone here. I will never sleep alone again.
"What are you thinking about?" Apollo asks me as we lay together on my bed.
He tucks the warm, soft blankets closer around me, careful to keep me comfortable. I smile to myself. I look up at my husband from where I lay with my head on his chest, and I am nearly overwhelmed with just how much I love this man. This kind, thoughtful, gentle, protective man.
"You," I murmur.
I reach to gently trace patterns on his skin. My fingers trail down his arm to intertwine with his own. He holds securely, bringing our joined hands to his lips to kiss me. He lets our hands rest over his heart. He knows it is a comfort for me to feel his heartbeat.
"How much I love you," I continue just above a whisper. It is nearly impossible not to drown in his eyes. "How happy I am to be with you, especially here."
"So many nights, I contemplated coming to you," he says softly.
"Why did you wait?" My voice holds no malice or judgement, only curiosity. Apollo's cheeks flush.
"I did not want to frighten you. I did not want you to think poorly of me," Apollo admits. He sighs. "I worried that if I came, you would think I did not love you. That I only wanted your body."
I cannot fault him. I never thought poorly of him, but my fears were strong. My faith was stronger, though. I imagine our bound souls played a hand in that.
"Well," I say, squeezing his hand affectionately, "fate found a way for us in the end."
Apollo smiles then, fond and sweet and adoring. It lights my heart on fire when he looks at me like this, like I hold the world in my hands, like I am all that matters in his eyes.
"It did," he whispers. His eyes search mine. "You know I love you, right? More than anything."
I cannot help my smile. My heart throbs in my chest with the love I feel for him, with the devotion I have to him. I would do anything for him, give anything he asked of me. I would topple Delphi and reduce it to ruin if he only commanded it. I would defy fate for him–for us.
"I know," I assure him, and I do. "You tell me at least ten times a day. You show it even more."
He laughs breathlessly. "Still not often enough, I'm certain."
I rest my head against him as I gaze up at the god. He is so beautiful, so painfully beautiful. I can read him so easily now, and it only enhances his glory in my eyes. His skin is perfect, flawless. Even the occasional scar is incredible. Each one is a testament to his strength, to the victories he has won.
His lips are lovely. They show his joy so easily. The most beautiful songs flow from them without even a moment's hesitation. His smiles illuminate the world around him. His snarls threaten to black out the son.
His eyes are stunning. They are breathtaking pools of the clearest, brightest, most crystalline blue. They shine like polished gems. His emotions reflect effortlessly across them. I have learned to understand him with just a glance. His eyes show me his soul.
His hands are paradoxes and prove the duality of his nature. They are strong and capable, his fingers lithe and careful. He can use them to lightly pluck the strings of a lyre. His hands so gently caress my skin and bring me to the height of pleasure. They hold me as if I were the most delicate flower in Delos' gardens. Yet, they can also loose a hundred arrows and kill the Python. They can entrap goddesses that dare to stand in his way. They can so effortlessly defend me.
Even still, my favorite feature of my husband's is not something I can see at all. It is what brought me to him. It is what wrapped around me and promised me salvation. His voice warms me better than a thousand suns could ever hope to.
It offers his endless love, his ceaseless adoration. It whispers promises of safety and eternity, eternal vows of fidelity and devotion, oaths that will never be forsaken. It is the one surety I have. When all else fails, when the gods abandon me, Apollo never will.
"I do not know how to express the extent of my love for you," I whisper into the fading light of the room. My eyes do not leave his. "You are so good with words. You know how to tell me everything. I am not as talented."
"You are perfect just as you are," he insists. He kisses my forehead. "You make your love very evident, sweet girl." Apollo grins mischievously. "I am not a man left deprived of affection, I assure you."
We laugh together, and I kiss his jaw. It is what I can easily reach, so it will have to do.
"Good," I say against his skin, the smile evident in my voice. "You are the most wonderful husband, Apollo."
He tilts my chin up so our eyes meet. "And you, my darling Cassia, are everything I could ever dream of desiring in a wife."
He kisses me then, and I sigh happily into it. He is slow, purposeful. Apollo is not one to rush, much less when he is touching me. He takes his time. Why would he not? We have forever.
"Apollo," I gasp out when he eventually moves, instead pressing me into the mattress as he moves his lips down my neck.
"Hm?" he replies distractedly.
One hand is on my ribs while his other arm props himself up above me. He finds a sensitive spot on my neck and pays extra attention it, sucking and biting marks into my skin. I feel him smirk against me when I gasp his name once again.
"We are–" I manage breathlessly, "we are in a temple."
Apollo laughs. "Yes, we are. Wonderful observation skills, darling."
I blush and roll my eyes. I cannot stay embarrassed for long, though. Not with the sounds he draws from me.
"I only mean," I huff, "is it alright?"
My husband peers up at me from my chest, where he is now pressing kiss after kiss. He gives me an amused look.
"Is it alright for me to worship my wife in her own temple?" he clarifies.
"Our temple," I correct. He chuckles and tugs lightly at my dress. When I make no protest, his magic makes the fabric disappear.
"Yes, sweet girl. Our temple," he agrees. He drags his nose against my breast. "Then, is it alright for me to worship my wife in our own temple?"
I let out a breathy laugh. My fingers lace into his hair.
"Well, it sounds like a bit of a silly question when you put it like that," I giggle.
"Are you free of your worries now?" he asks, peering up at me with a sweet, patient smile. I smile back at him and nod as I lightly run my fingers through his hair. "May I continue?"
My smile widens, and I lay my head back into the pillows. "I would never dream of denying you."