For Apollo, the poetry of her body spoke volumes, and as they entered her bedroom he caught her face in his hands, kissing her deeply as he continued to walk her backwards toward her bed. "Beautiful Calliope," he praised, his mouth on her throat as his hands pushed the buttons of her shirt through their buttonholes, one after another until her shirt opened completely. Apollo hummed in satisfaction at the sight, kissing the top of her breasts as his wide hands wrapped around her hips.