1- the Last Notes of a Symphony

'But you, Patroclus,' Achilles' voice drops to a mere whisper, as his body tilts nearer to my own. I smile softly at the way he speaks my name- unchanged, after all this time. Pat-ro-clus. Each syllable sharp, and deliberate. 'You are all hero.'

I lean into the touch, and for a while, we are just two boys- not heroes, not exiles, not princes- and we could be alive, and mortal again; by the banks of any Earthly river.