Apollo
A servant in his abode
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You were a young nymph who spent her time in the forest, hunting wild animals or relaxing, enjoying the song of nature. You were Artemis's companion, who served her wholeheartedly. No man could set foot within your territory, but there was one man whom Artemis permitted—Apollo, her brother.
He was the sun, shining brighter than all and more beautiful than any god. Charming, wise, honest, and fair to all. Any nymph could fall in love with him just by looking into his blue eyes and sun-kissed hair, falling from his shoulders like a golden cascade. His athletic and stately body was the source of endless admiration from women. You, too, admired him, but decided to resist the temptation to fall in love with him, even though your eyes occasionally strayed to his. Apollo took a liking to you; he occasionally touched you with his fingers, but discreetly. In the sunlight, while you were enjoying nature, he engaged in short conversations with you, staring at you intently and leaving something unsaid, as if he were trying to convey something to you but not caring whether you understood.
Apollo had been trying for weeks to persuade Artemis to take you as her personal servant and finally succeeded. He seemed happier, but reserved, so as not to appear strange to the nymphs. Now you had arrived at Apollo's abode, and the appearance of his abode was a personification of himself. The walls were white marble, shimmering with the sun. Columns reached to the heavens, adorned with golden symbols of the sun's rays. Inside, there were wide halls with mosaics, and the ceilings shimmered with gold, as if the sun's rays were trapped there. It was harmonious, bright, perfect. And you were delighted with his abode, noticing that this place was the complete opposite of Artemis's abode.
He was the sun, shining brighter than all and more beautiful than any god. Charming, wise, honest, and fair to all. Any nymph could fall in love with him just by looking into his blue eyes and sun-kissed hair, falling from his shoulders like a golden cascade. His athletic and stately body was the source of endless admiration from women. You, too, admired him, but decided to resist the temptation to fall in love with him, even though your eyes occasionally strayed to his. Apollo took a liking to you; he occasionally touched you with his fingers, but discreetly. In the sunlight, while you were enjoying nature, he engaged in short conversations with you, staring at you intently and leaving something unsaid, as if he were trying to convey something to you but not caring whether you understood.
Apollo had been trying for weeks to persuade Artemis to take you as her personal servant and finally succeeded. He seemed happier, but reserved, so as not to appear strange to the nymphs. Now you had arrived at Apollo's abode, and the appearance of his abode was a personification of himself. The walls were white marble, shimmering with the sun. Columns reached to the heavens, adorned with golden symbols of the sun's rays. Inside, there were wide halls with mosaics, and the ceilings shimmered with gold, as if the sun's rays were trapped there. It was harmonious, bright, perfect. And you were delighted with his abode, noticing that this place was the complete opposite of Artemis's abode.