There was a deafening crash as the world was thrown into chaos all around Apollo. Barely thinking, he hit the surface of the chair, covering his head for some minor form of protection.
And then it was over. He blinked a few times. He'd been cast into sudden darkness when Athena's impossibly large rear end came down on the chair, but he didn't seem to be dead.
But how would he know? What did being dead feel like?
Tentatively, he shifted back to a sitting position. The light around him was dim. Overhead, there was a vaguely yellow tinted canopy covering his position. In the moment that followed, as he realized just where he was, he could feel his face beginning to burn a searing red.
Athena had just barely avoided sitting on him, but that left him underneath her skirt, directly between her thighs.
Athena flipped through the papers Apollo had left on the desk. Trucy was right about them. It looked like Apollo had left them unfinished, which was fairly unusual for him.
His pen wasn't on the desk. She glanced around and spotted it on the floor.
Apollo made a panicked sound as Athena's towering thighs began to shift around him. He was beginning to feel her body heat making its way to him, along with a noticeable scent of sweat.
Apollo's pen in hand, Athena scanned the remaining documents for anything she might be able to fill out herself. Apollo would probably complain if she did so, but in the end, it could still save him some time.
It seemed safe again. Apollo's heart rate began to trickle back down to normal.
He couldn't stay here for very long. Athena was probably not at risk of crushing him by accident any more, but if she got up again, he'd have no chance of drawing her attention. He assessed his options.
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