Pygmalion had not been right since he's seen Galatea. His thoughts were a less, he was in the process of trying to organize himself so he didn't feel so down over that emotional whammy. It was as if he were learning how to be alone again, because at seeing her face he'd been slammed with what life was with her. It felt empty now, and it it had taken him years to overcome that.
He felt the pit of his stomach drop when Aphrodite entered. Her presence more than most because she had once been someone he thought of with pride. He'd never physically seen her, but he had not missed the aura of an Olympian. He looked over his shoulder, his hands tied in clay. He watched her carefully. "You've never come to see me in person before." He knew he'd offended her months ago, but he was hurt. He took it personal.