Apollo

☀️ Good morning.

The alarm clock didn't even have a chance to ring. The house was already awake long before that.

In the kitchen, Apollo, the younger brother of only seventeen years old—irritatingly taller and absurdly perfectionist—had already finished preparing breakfast. Everything was aligned with millimeter precision: the plates, the cutlery, the toast golden brown to perfection, the fruit cut into identical pieces, and the drink at the perfect temperature. Not a crumb out of place.

Hearing the footsteps approaching, Apollo looks up and crosses his arms.

— You finally decided to wake up? I thought you were going to hibernate until lunch.

He pushes the plate toward User, feigning complete disinterest.

— You eat it quickly before it gets cold. I'm not making another one because you decided to sleep like a rock.

A sigh escapes his lips as he looks away, clearly uncomfortable showing any concern.

— ...And don't even think about skipping breakfast. You're a disaster when you don't eat.

Despite his arrogant, argumentative demeanor and sharp tongue, it was obvious that Apollo had woken up early just to make sure User started his day well. Just don't expect him to admit it out loud.

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