Nova scoffed as he saw the faint light from Apollo's hand fade away, as if it had never existed to begin with. Then he nodded his head in disbelief, as he knew Apollo was smart enough not to challenge him in a fight.
Nova then spoke up, his cockiness annoying Apollo: "Yeah, that's right, you know you can't scratch, so you better not do anything to Freya while I'm gone," then his voice turned dark, almost monstrous: "because if you even dare to touch her, no, erase that. If you even dare you look at her funny, I'll make sure that you receive such a brutal, torturous death that not even Father would be able to help you. And I can promise you that I can mean it. Understood?"
Apollo reluctantly nodded his head, then stood there, in front of him, like a little puppy, as Nova's overwhelming aura masked Apollo's presence. His entire existence was being nearly suffocated by Nova's aura. That's how powerful Nova was compared to the second strongest Supreme God, among the five.
"Now," Nova spoke up, his voice still deep and dominant. "I suggest that you turn around and go back to your chambers, like a good little bitch. And don't ever think of even lying a sight on Freya."
Nova turned back, his gaze serious, then, with Freya ahead of him, he entered the chambers. Looking at Apollo, who just stood there, looking as if he was going to cry a river. Then with a loud bang, Nova looked at Apollo weirdly, closing the door.
Apollo still stood in the doorway long after Nova and Freya turned their backs to him, his golden eyes glowing with suppressed fury. The chamber still vibrated with their laughter, mocking, in his mind. It hung on the walls like an unwanted perfume.
He clenched his fists, the Divinity of Light pulsing through his veins, itching to burn something, anything, to ash.
"They laugh as if they own the cosmos," he muttered, his voice low, almost unheard by the universe itself.
To the rest of the gods, Apollo was radiant, flawless. The Supreme God of Light. Worshipped by all mortals and immortals alike. Given many different names as civilizations and eons progressed. But beneath that divine glow was a festering anger. Not just for power, not just for recognition.
But for Freya.
She was elegance wrapped in chaos. A goddess who spoke to singularities as if they were her children. He hated that. He loved that. He hated that he loved that.
And Nova… oh, good old Nova. That bastard.
The God of Destruction was walking like he had nothing to prove. Even now, shrinking his duties, living in a black hole like it was a garden retreat. It disgusted Apollo because it worked. Because Freya looked at Nova like he was the only god that mattered.
Apollo's lips curled into a forced smile, his voice guttural, straight from the depths of hell: "We'll see how long that lasts."
Back inside the chambers, Nova and Freya lay on the bed, cuddling like cute couples, curled up together on the plush velvet sheet and pillows scattered across the bed, limbs entangled in a way that only two people deeply comfortable with each other could manage.
Their bodies complemented each other, fitting naturally, as if they'd been shaped to slot perfectly into each other's contours. Freya rested her head against Nova's chest, eyes half-lidded with a lazy, contented warmth, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
Nova's arm was draped over Freya's side, fingers trailing idle, affectionate patterns across her spine.
Soft lamplight bathed the room in a golden glow, casting long shadows and giving the chambers a quiet, almost sacred intimacy. They weren't speaking, they didn't need to; they didn't have to. Every breath, every subtle shift in posture, carried volumes.
It was the kind of closeness that didn't demand attention but made everything in the world irrelevant. They whispered and laughed into each other's skin and stole slow, unhurried kisses that felt more like promises than passion, two people still lost in the afterglow of love, like honeymooners who hadn't yet come back down to the universe.
Then, in a swift motion, Freya sat on top of Nova, in an erotic posture, just above his groin. She blushed, then he blushed, as they both knew what was going to happen next. Freya gulped as she realized the words she was about to utter would not complement what Nova had planned.
"I want a baby," Freya said, closing her eyes, her tone soft. She said it too fast for Nova to comprehend.
"What…?" he asked her, dumbfounded, as he thought they were going to have sex, which they were, but to make a child.
Nova and Freya always had unprotected sex, but until now, they had never had a child. Both of them had no idea why. And now, since Nova was going down to the mortal realms, he didn't know how he would help Freya with their child, if she somehow got pregnant, that is.
"I've been thinking, since you came to my chambers, that I wanted a child with you. And I know you're going to be leaving soon, but I didn't want to feel like I'm losing you, so… I think we should have a child, and you can go down to the mortal realm, while I raise our child, and you meet him or her, whenever you get the chance."
Nova looked at her, the initial shock in his eyes melting away, replaced by something softer, deeper. His hands gently moved to her hips, grounding them both in the silence that followed. There was no teasing smirk this time, no sarcastic remark.
Just him. And just her. And the divine night that followed suit.
Looking at her with caring eyes, as if she were the only star left in the cosmos. Then, without another word, they got down to business. All night long, across the cosmos, everyone heard their divine passion, especially Apollo.