(For the sake of romanticism we're going to fuck reality and pretend that solar eclipses can happen at night even though that defies everything ever known to man. K? Good!)
Artemis was on her fifth glass of champagne when Apollo walked into the party.
Clad in an elegantly cut gray suit, his golden hair shone brightly as he mingled through the crowd.
He exuded light, a beacon of warmth and radiance that anyone could see.
Mortals often approached her, but only those who dared to look past her silvery, icy exterior. For him, it was as easy as breathing to attract humans.
Likes moths to a glorious flame.
She grabbed another champagne flute from a waiter, partly at the latter thought, but also from the sight of a honey blond girl plastered to Apollo, exuding sex pheromones.
Artemis quickly drained it, and wanting to see no more of the flirting of both parties, made for the terrace.
She was in Paris currently, by some chance of events. It always seemed that Artemis came back to Paris, time and time again.
She preferred staying in Europe to any other place on Earth. America was too urban, too flashy and exposed, and other countries were deceptive, selfish.
The brisk night air on the terrace immediately soothed her, cooling her flushed demeanor. From the alcohol, she told herself.
The minute she had stepped outside, the moon's rays gravitated towards her, illuminating her in pure silver. Her already silver dress danced like constellations among the rays.
The moon was uncommonly bright that night, preparing for the solar eclipse that was to happen.
The last time there had been an eclipse- Artemis shook her head at the thought. It could never happen again.
Which was why one twin had to leave the party.
"Vous êtes la beauté, ma lune."
You are beauty, my moon.
Artemis didn't turn at the familiar lilting French of her twin brother, instead closing her eyes and tightening her hands on the stone balcony railing.
She felt more than saw him approach, the tether between them shortening.
"Did you hear, sweet sister? There is to be a solar eclipse tonight."
Artemis turned to him with naked anger in her eyes, Apollo's mocking smile searing her eyes.
"Don't. You have no right-"Artemis hissed.
"Why? You don't seem to want to be in the same room as me, much less converse," he spat out, honey golden eyes darkening in anger to an amber color. "I must get some reaction out of you, even if it is jealousy."
Artemis reared back as if slapped. "Jealousy?! I'm not jealous in any way. Who is there to be jealous of?"
"The blond minx that sidled up to me not too long ago. The girl who made you avert your eyes and down your champagne a little too quickly.
"Mortals aren't worthy of my attention, and neither my jealousy," Artemis scoffed, turning from him.
Apollo grabbed her chin forcefully, turning her head to face him.
Her silver eyes became true ice under his gaze.
"Careful brother, you forget who has the power as of now."
The moon seemed to darken then, and Artemis glowed unearthly, as if too prove her point.
Apollo smirked. "Your petty threats don't scare me, darling sister, as I know it is just an emotional prelude to the eclipse. Mortal women have PMS, but you, my dear, have PES: pre-eclipse syndrome."
Artemis's eyes narrowed dangerously. "One of us needs to leave." Her voice was cold and unyielding.
They stood in harsh silence for a moment, before Artemis turned in a huff to leave the balcony, to continue home.
Apollo grabbed her arm, not allowing her to leave. Artemis glared at him.
"Let me go."
Apollo's eyes softened. "Never."
Their harsh breathes intermingled in the cool night air, the energy crackling between them.
Suddenly, the moon's light was dimmed as the eclipse started.
Artemis felt her legs consumed in heat, swirling around her devilishly. She instinctively reached out to steady herself on Apollo's suited arm.
"You know what the eclipse does to us," Apollo murmured to Artemis, his voice washing over her like sunlight.
Artemis let out a gasp as more of the moon became shadowed, the sun and moon aligning to overlap each other. Her and Apollo aligning to overlap the other.
The eclipse was the closest they would be in the universe all year.
Artemis's hand tightened on Apollo's jacket, her heart rate accelerating and her body starting to shake.
Then the moon and sun completely overlapped.
Artemis feverishly attacked Apollo, her hands everywhere at once. Her lips bit, bruised, bloodied his.
Apollo returned her affections just as amorously, crushing her body to his so tightly, they both gasped for breath.
Immediately, they were no longer in Paris, but in a dark, expansive bedroom lit only by the moonlight not consumed by the shadow of the sun.
Apollo's hands ripped her dress from her body, the silk fluttering to the floor slowly, like a reminder of how much time they truly had.
Apollo admired the body he so loved, so well knew. She was perfection, a body taunt and curved at the same time, like an archer's bow, bending gracefully under his artfully practiced hands.
Artemis was too impatient, her blood singing in her veins. She wrested the suit from his body, forgetting her strength as the suit fell to the hardwood.
Artemis admired her brother's body more than her own. He was all golden sinew and hard muscle. Her personal sun.
They collided like the solar eclipse, each trying to block out the other as they attacked each other's lips.
Apollo grasped his sister so closely to him, it felt like she was a part of him.
He grabbed her bottom and lifted her, her legs automatically twining around the V of his hips as he carried her over to the bed, their mouths never separated.
She tasted like sugared moonlight, and he like the honeyed sun.
Neither could get enough of the other, always pushing, pulling, grasping for more.
Apollo threw her down, climbing on top of her, and Artemis drew him down, kissing down his neck, biting, licking.
Apollo returned the favor by fondling her pert breasts, rosy as her lips, now bruised and swollen like his.
Artemis rolled her head back at the sensation of his hands on her.
He knew everything about her. He knew where to put his hands, where he could elicit the most pleasure, where he could inflict the most pain, if he wanted to.
Every touch had her on icy fire-the wrongness-and yet the pleasure...
Artemis suddenly bucked as Apollo's fingers entered her, simultaneously hitting her sensitive nub.
He knew too well...
Apollo gazed down at his beautiful sister as he fingered her.
Strands of hair the color of starlight spread across the pillow in an array of silver. A beautiful face contorted into immense pleasure. Rosebud lips begging to be sucked, devoured.
He wanted her carnally, in a way he never did with any other lover he took. He lusted after them, but her? He wanted to consume her entirely, this twin sister of his who knew him better than he knew himself, whom he had shared the womb with.
At the brink of her climax, Apollo pulled his fingers out, leaning down to gently kiss the apexes of her creamy thighs, having to hold down her hips to keep them from bucking into his face.
He slowly blew cool breath across her opening, before leaning down to suck gently.
"Apollo," his name escaped her lips in a breathy moan.
He watched her as he kissed her, tasted her, watching her head tilt back, her eyes flutter dangerously, her entire body coil up.
Her eyes suddenly flew open and suddenly Apollo was on his back, his sister on top of him, her smooth body brushing the hard contours of his.
Artemis sent him a smile that made his erection throb wildly.
She brought him up, kissing him harshly before easing down onto him.
They both moaned in unison at the feeling, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed.
Slowly, she began to move. Apollo held her hips as they swiveled, panting with her.
And suddenly, up was down. Down was up. Everything defied existence.
They were tethered together, soul to soul, being to being. An interwoven glittering strand of silver and gold, two halves entwined.
Yin and Yang described the two perfectly; a piece of them was in each other, and they sacrificed themselves for the other tirelessly, time after time.
La beauté est que vous, ma lune.Apollo suddenly thrust his hips up into her, and the moan Artemis made had Apollo repeating the action just to hear the sheer timbre of pleasure that echoed from Artemis's mouth.
La beauté est que vous, ma lune.
Artemis gripped her brother's shoulders tightly, gasping for breath as her entire body coiled into itself.
La beauté est que vous, ma lune.
With another thrust, Artemis closed her eyes tightly and let go.
Galaxies exploded behind her eyes, the sun and moon a vortex of self obsession that sank and spun, orbiting each other in orderly chaos.
Stars formed and shrank, blinked to life and blinked out in harsh synchronization. Their cold light caressed the back of her eyelids.
Apollo thrust into her again, his thrusts becoming sloppier, until finally, he released himself inside of her.
Music filled his ears; the rich moans of his sister a musical masterpiece to him.
The slip and slide of the silk sheets, the harshness of their pants, the synchronization of their hearts, and the sound of skin against skin was a beautiful, melodious piece that sounded like an orchestra of longing and self-depreciation.
Artemis was like his lyre. Pluck the right sequence of notes, and you were rewarded with sweet tones that reverberated from the lyre as effortlessly as breathing. Or an archer's bow: straight and unyielding unless held in the proper hands.
Artemis collapsed down next to him, staring up through the sunroof to glimpse the glory of the solar eclipse.
She curled into herself, and Apollo wrapped himself around her, her head resting on his chest.
Apollo ran his hands through her hair, loving the silky smoothness of it, the way it reflected the color of moon dust in the night.
He knew that they were two halves joined; the moon and the sun were destined to collide and yearn for the other. Yet, she always resisted their pull.
But you couldn't resist gravity, and they were both falling fast.
"Apollo?" Her voice was as soft as a gentle breeze.
"How can something that feels so right be so wrong?"
Apollo brushed his thumb across the curve of her cheekbone, trailing it down to trace her sharp jawline.
"It's not wrong. It never has been."
"But Apollo, this era believes it's wrong for siblings to-"
He hushed her by outlining her plush rosebud mouth with his thumb, her lips trembling beneath his skin.
"We were created a long time ago, where our feelings for each other were expected, worshipped. Our love has spanned decades, centuries, eons. Nothing can deny what has survived so long and still burns so bright, like the sun, like the stars."
Artemis's molten eyes gazed into his, and he saw a part of the cold exterior melt and soften.
He was the only one she softened for, became pliable with. He was solely the one who could tear down her walls, and rebuild them softly with his burning kisses and fiery touches.
"Were we destined to feel this way?"
He gazed past her, out the window and to the golden ink sky.
"We shared the womb, my cells and yours intermingling, exchanged and shared. We have each other in our veins. My heart pumps for you. If that's not destiny, I do not know what is, shining one."
Artemis slowly closed her eyes, her long eyelashes brushing her cheek.
Apollo was fascinated by every little thing about her, from the curve of her hip bone, to the intricate swirl of misty color her irises held in an array of stars.
"Destiny is a cruel thing."
Apollo paused, surveying her, then stroked back a piece of her soft hair.
He bent down to gently kiss her collarbone.
"Sometimes."
And so they stayed, curled around each other as tightly as possible, breaths intermingling, as the sun and moon collided and shared the same light in the dark sky overhead.
