HYACINTHUS

Chapter Fifteen

I REALIZED I WAS starting to fall in love about two weeks after I had started my journeys with Zephyros.

At first, I thought what I felt towards him was pure sympathy and thankfulness. Or admiration. After all, Zephyros had a lot to be admired; his diligence, his skills at the harp, his discipline, his empathy.

He had the peaceful soul of a poet in the body even the gods of Olympus would be jealous of (may they forgive me for my words of blasphemy).

He treated me hospitably and brotherly, like one might treat a friend from childhood. His eye corners would crease up a bit every time he would smile at me, in a genuine manner that put me at ease.
Everything he did was to put me at ease.

That was what I liked most about him. He was genuine. It was like he was from a whole another world than my siblings and father. His ways weren't violent and loud; he could get respect even talking quietly.

He ate seldom, claiming his stomach couldn't tolerate this land's crops and wildlife, yet he accompanied me everytime I went hunting. He had crafted me a spear out of a long stick of reed and a particularly sharp stone.

What I preferred where the harp lessons. Not that I was particularly good at it; my fingers were thinner and softer than his, and I couldn't seem to remember all the notes by heart. The melodies couldn't sound as good as when he played them.

And yet, it was in those moments he was the closest to me. He put his hands on my shoulders to lower them, touched my fingers to correct them. While I played, I could feel his patient gaze upon me, and I wanted to bask in his attention.

We moved every two to three days. Some days, we had to sleep in the forest; he always volunteered to keep guard then, saying not sleeping didn't bother him much. It was true; after nights of wake, he didn't seem tired at all, and didn't lose an ounce of freshness.

We were starting to leave the forest I knew behind. I could notice the vegetation changing; the prickly pine trees were slowly getting replaced by oak and birch. The dark earth beneath the thinned soles of my sandals wasn't dry and reddish anymore.

One morning I woke up, and saw him sitting a few feet from me. We had camped in an abandoned wheat field. His eyes were fixed upon me.

"Were you watching me sleep?" I asked.

"Yes."

I tried to hide my excitement, and a sliver of doubt still crept in. What if I had slept in an unsightly manner, drooling, or snoring like a dog?

Zephyros chuckled, reading my thoughts as easily as he always did.

"Don't worry. The sight was most exquisite."

My cheeks flamed up ferociously. He grinned and cupped the right one, brushing a thumb along my cheekbone. I thought I was going to die on the spot, my heart was probably going to give out.

"Rise, Hyacinthus", he said. "I have some news to deliver."

I stood up, pushing myself up with my hands, wondering what it was.

Zephyros fastened the straps that helped him carry his harp on the back, and I grabbed my pouch and my makeshift spear.

"Your father found out you ran away", he said.

That was to be expected, and yet, I felt fear overtaking me. I tried to keep myself collected the best I could.

"How did you learn that?"

He shrugged. "Someone told me."

I frowned. I was the only person he was with the past month. How did he manage to talk to somebody else? Did he run off at night, leaving me sleeping, to meet them?