Oh yeah, this bitch really cared about this baby. Possessive, entitled cunt! Melpomene's vision tunneled to nothing but Aphrodite, and she fought back as viciously as the goddess. She could not move as fast, but her own clawed hand caught Aphrodite's face, and Melpomene felt the grated skin roll beneath her fingernails, heated blood on her fingertips. The heady rush as she staggered back and realised, when she looked down at her hands, that these little fists had the power to mar the beauty of the goddess of love herself.
Blood was pouring down Aphrodite’s face (and her own? She couldn't tell) and splattered the back of Melpomene’s hand, and at once she recalled Apollo, taking her hand and frowning There’s blood all over them though they had been clean, and she’d known he was looking at her hands in another time. Whose blood is it?
Someone unlucky enough to have met you, I’m sure he’d said.
Melpomene bared her teeth in a dark grin at Aphrodite. Unlucky Aphrodite.
Oh, she was going to bathe herself in goddess blood.