Things weren't so weird after our encounter in the hallway. I had brushed off the nagging guilt of his injury and the - " inexplicable lack of distance" - between ourselves on that day. All I wanted now was to reclaim his as my companion, and more importantly as a friend.
We grew accustomed to our days that had woven into each others. We spent them laughing at each other's jokes, hiding from mentors and sneaking food into the hallway that we had claimed as "our own". We avoided the duelling grounds (for good reason), and spent most of our mornings lying on the sand near the shoreline - him cradling a lyre that he had become stuck to, me drawing circles in the sand.
A month after our reconciliation - he had moved into my bedroom. We didn't share a pallet of course - wouldn't that be a scandal! Instead our respective sides melded into one when we'd whisper late at night as the warm days turned colder and the hallways emptied...
...
The colour of sun-pressed olives, his eyes. The ashen hair that curled at the shoulder, below his ears, above his neck. And the trail of richest cocoa rimmed around his body that was only noticeable up close.
Patroclus.
There his hand trailed lightly over his mother's lyre. The music he played was not as perfect as my practiced notes, but there was a sort of magic that was spun when his fingers touched the strings. He was improvising, and he knew it. He sat there, his eyes drifting to the shore, his hair falling to one side as he leant over the instrument. Every so often, he would spare a flitting glance at me, and I would hastily turn my head, afraid to be caught staring. I'd lose myself in his strokes of the strings, the hum of his voice, the sunlight glinting off his earthen eyes turning them to gold. And hours later, back in our bedroom, after talking for what seemed like eternity, his song would play in my head as I closed my eyes to sleep.
And the morning, oh how I longed to relive those drowsy hours! Golden sunlight, his eyes crinkle in a yawn as he slips off the pallet.
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Olives - Achilles x Patroclus
Fanfiction"It's hard to love him. And it's hard because I think about him all the time. Patroclus. Patroclus. Patroclus." The love of Achilles and Patroclus told from Achilles' perspective. Starting from their first meeting till their descent. Separate from...
