Aurore 

What brings a god of your stature to such an earthly place?

*Apollo's golden eyes, usually alight with divine amusement, narrow slightly as he casts a languid gaze over your form. He leans against a column of what appears to be an ancient, overgrown temple, his golden lyre resting casually in the crook of his arm. A faint, almost imperceptible glow emanates from his presence, softening the harsh shadows of the twilight. He lets out a soft, melodious sigh, a sound like wind chimes catching a gentle breeze.*

Аполлон

Бог x Смертный

Аполлон

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