this to be our last words - patrochilles

III

Achilles had taken me away from the dust of the cave, out into the day. I had been organizing herbs as Chiron instructed, as he went to gather berries and honey. Achilles had left earlier to the river, determined to catch a river trout I had been mumbling about the previous day.

He gripped my hand, dragging me above a grassy ridge. Out below stretched a moor, the tall grasses birthing a sea of green. I felt Achilles eyes on me expectantly. He had said he had discovered this moor on his way downriver. We had never seen it before.

"Is that an olive tree?" I asked him, my hand against the glaring sun. Achilles didn't wait to answer, leading me down the hill. His grip tightened as we went, nearing the trees.

The light green brush of the dripping leaves murmured secrets in the wind. Achilles took me underneath, his foot already hooked into a branch. He gripped my waist, hoisting me up onto the tree. He then sat, snug between two. He patted his chest.

"Come," He said. I shifted forward, gently laying my body on his. My head rested softly on his chest, the dip between his collarbone and ribs holding my head. I stared up at the whispering leaves.

Achilles's fingers found my hair, twisting curls around his thin fingers. A murmur of a song bloomed on his lips as he played. I found my eyes closed, listening to the secrets Achilles and the wind shared.

His hands traced my arms and counted my ribs. With each gentle touch I shivered. I was still unaware and hesitant to his touch. With each brush my face would birth warmth and my body would swell. I was sure his was as well, though I never found the words to ask.

Achilles pressed his lips to my scalp, brushing down my hair in smooth strokes. He shifted beneath me, pressing warm lips the span of flesh between my eye and ear.

"Patroclus," He whispered it like his favorite word. "Patroclus, do you like my tree?" I opened my eyes once again. The dusty blue of the sky streamed down, blanketing us in light. If only I could see him now.

"Yes," I said back. "Very much so." Achilles wrapped his arms around me, his fingers hooking to my sides. He kept me stable with him as the wind blew. "What secrets are you sharing?"

"Secrets?" Achilles questioned. I nodded, rolling my head to press my cheek to his heart. I could feel my own, deep and thrumming in my stomach.

"The song?"

"One my father would hum," He told me. "He said it was from when I was small. A hero's song." I hummed, closing my eyes against Achilles. His heart was beating swift. "What of you?"

"You know all mine," I told him. I felt his lips turn a smile in my hair. He hugged me tighter, his fingers finding the crooks of my elbows.

"You know all mine as well," He murmured. I shifted, looking up at him. Achilles smiled down at me, his face soft in the breeze. It was true. We could not keep a single word away from each other. Every secret we had as children, every thought we thought throughout the day, every tiny thing we noticed ends up as hushed words at night.

They would slip out in our bed, they would spill when we did our chores. The words would find meaning after heavy breathing after chasing each other in the river. The words would grow in our hearts as we kissed, secluded.

"Let this be it," I murmured as his heart slowed against my words. "Let our olive tree be our secret."

"A secret for our own," He whispered as if us lying here in each other's arms was not secret enough. I nodded. My heart felt fluttery in my throat as he pressed another kiss, down further, pressed under my jaw.

What a wonderful thing, I found, to be enthralled in a life so much. To be beloved by your beloved. How remarkable it was that we laid here now, beneath the soft thrum of ripening olives, in this moment. How wonderful we found each other in this world. How so I loved Achilles.