Warning for this bit: Apollo doesn't DO "no"
Apollo couldn’t believe he’d struck out with Erato. Erato! The Muse who’d been pining over him since their kiss in Vegas! And now she was saying no to him? What?!
Sure, women started off saying no sometimes, the ones who didn’t want to seem easy, and sometimes Erato played that game too, encouraging him to romance his way in, but to run off crying? That was a whole different story.
He found Melpomene as she was stepping out of a bathroom in the wake of three girls (one of their number puffy eyed and soulful, the other with a quickly spreading blush.) “Hey, gorgeous,” he smiled, stepping in front of her to walk her backwards into the bathroom again. “You looked so good on the dance floor, the way you move that body,” he had his hands roaming up over her hips already, Melpomene had to steady herself with a little exhale before she put her hands on Apollo’s chest to hold him back.
“I told Erato I wouldn’t, tonight.”
Unconcerned, Apollo curled his long fingers around her wrists. “Then don’t tell Erato,” he said, lifting her hand so he could brush his lips against her wrist. “She’s been icy toward me all night, anyway.”
“So melt her,” Melpomene said, trying to hold her ground and not melt herself. That tongue tracing her veins, though.
“Oh I will,” Apollo said, stepping closer to crowd her up against the door. Heat flushed over her body, and she closed her eyes against the seductive feeling of his body pressed against hers. “You girls have been playing hard to get all night,” Apollo’s voice was low against her ear. “Erato’s not normally so difficult to crack, is that your doing?”