Melpomene and her epithets. What a godsdamned show-off. Erato kept a sweet smile in place. "I could say the same for you, my dear, black is always so flattering, isn't it?"
Love might not "speak", but Love could be jealous. And Love right now was fucking suspicious. As the bottle appeared on the bar, she beamed up at Apollo. "What an absolutely divine idea," she said, hoping for another of those scrumptious kisses.