Artemis lay in her bed, her curly brown hair splayed out on the pillow like a halo. She was pale and drawn, her body a testament to the neglect it had suffered in the past week. Her stomach growled, but she paid it no mind. She had no appetite.
The door to her bedchamber creaked open, and Apollo stepped inside. He looked concerned, his golden brows furrowed. “Artemis, you need to eat something,” he said, holding out a bowl of ambrosia.
Artemis turned her head away, her eyes flashing. “I’m not hungry,” she croaked, her voice hoarse from disuse.
Apollo set the bowl down on the bedside table with a sigh and sat on the edge of the bed. “You haven’t left this bed in two days,” he said. “You need to shower and get some fresh air.”
Artemis glared at him, her green eyes sharp. “I don’t want to do anything,” she said. “Leave me alone.”
Apollo reached out to touch her forehead, but Artemis recoiled. “I’m fine,” she snapped, her voice laced with venom.
Apollo sighed and stood up, his hands raised in surrender. “I’m going to send one of your hunters to bring you some food and fresh clothes,” he said.
Artemis sat up in bed, her eyes flashing. “I don’t need your help,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”
Apollo raised an eyebrow. “You call this taking care of yourself?” he said, gesturing to her neglected appearance.
Artemis glared at him. “I don’t need your judgment,” she said.
Apollo shook his head. “I’m not judging you, Artemis. I’m worried about you.”
Artemis softened a little, her anger dissipating like smoke. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just need some time alone.”
Apollo nodded. “I understand,” he said. “But please, take care of yourself.”
Artemis watched as Apollo left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. She knew he was right, but she couldn’t help feeling angry and frustrated. She didn’t want his help. She didn’t need anyone’s help. She was the goddess of the hunt, the protector of women and girls. She could take care of herself.
But even as she thought this, she knew it was a lie. She had been neglecting herself, pushing away those who cared about her. She couldn’t keep living like this. She’d have to face her feelings and move on eventually.
But not yet. For now, she just wanted to lie in her bed and close her eyes, pretending that the world outside didn’t exist. Pretending that she didn’t have a care in the world.
But even as she drifted off to sleep, she knew it was only a temporary reprieve. She’d have to face reality soon enough.
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