#sunwings

And the Sun loved back. He adored this innocent, fearless mortal who lived in such a cruel place. He loved his bravery, his loyalty, his heart, his yearning...

The world didn't deserve the bright mortal, but it got him anyway. So the Sun watched the mortal hope to leave his prison and make that same world a better place. The Sun heard when the mortal talked to him even though he couldn't see the celestial body. Icarus talked about how he imagined warmth from the Sun felt like, how it would shine and make everything else do the same.

The Sun loved the wishes and on days the beautiful son of Daedalus was saddened and hopeless, that maybe he would never see the above, the Sun would send some of its warmth through the cracks of the labyrinth, some light, and once the Sun had convinced the Wind to send him a breeze. It always made the mortal smile.

"Thank you." he would whisper to the Sun, "Thank you. One day, I will thank you while basking in your light."

The Sun waited for that day, for it had plans to confess to the mortal of his own yearning.

When that day came, the mortal and the Sun were so excited! They would finally get to see each other, who doesn't get excited when they finally see their beloved? The Sun held its breath as the mortal's father perfected the wings that would allow them to leave their prison. The mortal was so excited as he adorned the wings. They were flimsy but enough for their purpose. The mortal didn't doubt his father, so the Sun tried not to either.

He requested the Wind's help once again, this time to help its most loved. And the Wind, owing the Sun a favor, blew through the labyrinth, guiding Icarus's flight as he ascended higher and higher. The wings flapped with a delicate rhythm, the wax and feathers trembling just slightly. But the Sun, high above, was watching—its heart swelling with anticipation. It had waited for this moment for so long. The mortal, who had once been lost in the dark, was finally escaping into its light. The Sun could already feel the warmth of their meet as if it could already embrace him from above.

But the mortal, blissful in his newfound freedom, did not yet understand the consequences of such a love. The Sun had given him everything it could, sending its warmth, its light, its guidance—but it had not shown him the danger that came with proximity to its flames. The innocent mortal’s heart was pure, his joy so full that it blinded him to the screams of his father's caution.

For people don't know something very important, Icarus was not the one who loved Apollo most fiercely. It was Apollo who loved his Icarus so much, Too much.

Why is Icarus's happiness in his few seconds of freedom taken for greed instead of delight? Why is "Do not be too greedy." the moral of Icarus's story? Why is not "Be careful with love because sometimes it can destroy you"?

Why isn't it "The Sun's love is dangerous for mortals to have"?

But Apollo had had enough of the Fates.

When Icarus closed his eyes, he thought he would feel the brutal embrace of the sea. But instead, there was warmth—a gentle, golden warmth that wrapped around him. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes. He was not plummeting to his death but hovering, weightless, his broken wings drifting apart.

And then he saw him: Apollo, blazing. The God's eyes were furious, yet there was a tenderness in the way he reached out for Icarus.

"You flew too close to me, my love," Apollo said, his voice like his father's thunder yet as soft as a lullaby. "But if I am to burn anyone, it will not be you. Not anymore."

Icarus's breath caught in his throat as Apollo’s light enveloped him, the golden light of the god’s presence washing over him, making everything else feel distant and far away. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming—if he had somehow slipped beyond the realm of the living into the gods' domain.

After what felt like an eternity, Apollo lowered Icarus to the ground. "We're safe here, to be as we please. You are safe here."

"Safe…" Icarus whispered, almost to himself, his gaze drifting to the god. Apollo’s golden skin glowed with a radiance that seemed to burn away the very shadows of his doubts.

Safe from King Minos, from his guards. Safe, far far away from the labyrinth.

“Will you...stay with me then?" His voice barely above a breath. His hand reached up, tentative at first, to rest on Apollo’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of the god’s heartbeat beneath his palm.

Apollo’s eyes darkened with something deep, something ancient. His gaze never left Icarus's, and slowly, as if giving him a choice, he leaned in closer.

“I never left you, my dear,” Apollo murmured, his breath hot against the mortal's lips.

And then, without another word, Apollo kissed him.

The mortal froze for a split second, his heart hammering in his chest, every part of him trembling as the god's lips touched his. The kiss was soft, a gentle caress as if they were afraid to break something fragile. But it didn’t feel fragile.

When the kiss finally broke, Icarus was left gasping, as if he had been submerged underwater, then pulled back into the air. Apollo's hands, large and gentle, cupped his face as he gazed at him, something so incredibly tender behind the intensity.