Everlasting (A Greek Tragedy)

Everlasting Ch I

That night, however, it wasn't some foolish nightmare that woke him up, it had been the terribly wrenching ache that occupied his left arm. A wound he had obtained from slipping a great distance after advancing towards the Trojans.

Achille's gave him a scornful look, "Why didn't my friend advance with caution? At times, my thoughts are prudent about your poor judgement, Patroclus. You are quite strong, but not invincible."

Patroclus lowered his eyes, the calm flame sparking in the foyer's hearth casted a complementing tint on his rather attractive visage. "It was none other than a fortuitous occurrence. Preventing a fall is inevitable when your feet are already off the ground," he retorted before wincing. "Furthermore, the strike I had on that foresaken Trojan was preemptive and well executed. I take pride in my kills."

"And pain as well," Achilles chuckled and wrapped his friend's wound in bandages before standing up. Patroclus waved his arm to test the medicine's strength; no pain, yet no feeling either.

"It numbs?"

Achilles nodded before setting the mysterious remedy on the top shelf of a wooden bookshelf. "It will ware off soon enough. Give it time."

"Aye," Patroclus continue to work his arm, earning a hasty pop in the process. He mentally admitted to himself that even though he absolutely adored the time he spent out on the battlefield, he worshipped the time with Achilles. Nothing else could compare to that. Even if they just sat idly discussing superfluous matters.

Achilles had the same feelings for him, endearment and pure loyalty. It had been that way since he could remember: the laughs, the playing, their youth. Patroclus had always seem to be quite bull-headed though, and his actions always resulted in Achilles' fear over his friend getting hurt (and it was taboo to even mention his death).

Achilles' forehead creased frantically when he glanced over at Patroclus. His eyes staring down at his sandals. He found the sight quite captivating; especially the way Patroclus' eyelashes created that perfect shading across his cheekbones.

He tore his eyes away, "Patroclus. Do you recall the day we first met?," Achilles inquired while earning a lifted eyebrow from him and then a warm smile.

"Of course, how could I forget?"

"I never questioned the matter, but why did you and your father come to our palace so many years ago? My father always told me it was because of some alliance bonding. But, I did assume it was because of another matter... A much more severe one." 

Patroclus bowed his head like a scorned dog, his hair slowly dragging across his shoulder. "When I was young, I commited a very treacherous crime. One that could have had me executed if I stayed in my kingdom any longer..."

Achilles lowered himself onto a chair, his ears perked in interest.

"I had a friend. A very good one. We, as children, spent most of our time frolicking in the castle. We caused mischief together, often getting caught and punished for our actions. Me and him were two of a kind, inseparable and bonded."

Achilles looked up at Patroclus, curious as to why he had paused. But in the glint of the flame's bright light and his pale skin, he saw his eyes moisten and a single tear trailed down his cheek. He frowned and immediately rose from his seat. As soon as he made his way to his dear friend, he crouched and put a compassionate arm around him.

"Do not continue if the story bears too much heartache. I did not meditate your agony in my inquiry. Please forgive me-"

"It is fine, Achilles. I will tell the story. You, being such a loyal friend, deserves to know as much." Patroclus grabbed Achilles' hand and lightly squeezed it to signal he was okay. While glancing up he met the eyes of Achilles, who's lips were parted in curiousity.

Both men felt a stomach churning sensation, one that they would often experience when being around one another but never acted upon. The foreign feeling had a mind controlling effect on them, which caused the two to gradually lean foward. Patroclus was lost in Achilles' two seas of blue ,while Achilles was lost in emerald. Both were amazed at one another's face and leaned closer and closer. Closer than they had ever to each other. Eyes glistened, lips parted and that powerful churning...

And then, they kissed.

Both men were lost in the moment, the flames burning in the hearth failed to extinguish their paralyzing coldness. Neither of them found the romantic gesture odd in anyway, but it did pose some sort of abashing emotion. Perhaps it had been the reason of them waiting so long to act on how they really felt for one another. Or perhaps how they didn't feel...

Patroclus was the first to pull away, his cheeks coaded the bashful color of bright crimson. He couldn't decipher his feelings as being astonished, shameful or content. Probably as mixture of all of them..

Achilles blinked, although he couldn't hold back a forceful smile. "Could you tell me the story, Patroclus?"