I stared to the sky, full and flush above me. The moon's pale light shone down with kisses, reminding me that I am whole. Her light danced through the canopies of lonely trees, letting them spring into importance, their songs for recognition heard and brought to life. It was a peaceful night. The chirp of crickets brought together the melody sung by the trees and wind, but the moon's light gave the show life. I glanced over, watching his chest rise and fall with ease. His green eyes seemed lost in the sky, as if he was there along the stars.

I can see him there too. His beauty amongst the wide-open space, dancing with the stars. They would spin him into a waltz that would last for all eternities, dip him into a sweet moon-kissed puddle, let him see how truly beautiful he is.

The breeze caught his blonde hair, dangling it above his face, taunting him with an eagerness to move. 

I watched the smile creep onto his face, I adored when such mischief strikes his face just right. He turned to face me, with the same witty smile that he often held. I braced myself, waiting to hear the song of his voice. He was hard to ignore- no, impossible. When he spoke, you heard. He was much like a loved performer, standing tall and firm, but he was also eloquent and beautiful, like a fair maiden. A beautiful mix for a man.

"Patroclus," the way his lips curved with my name gave me chills. 

"Yes?"

"If I asked you now... Would you be my prince?" His voice was serious, but light, and it carried in the wind. 

Prince, the thought repeated, his prince. Something I was once long ago but had forgotten about. For all I cared about now was him, that I was there with him.

I turned to look back at the sky, though the warmth of his breath still hit my skin much like a suns' ray. It served as a reminder that I made a promise to him long ago. "I would." 

His face hovered above mine, blonde hair draping to either side. I laughed, scanning his face. It was flushed pink and playful. I loved when he was like this.

"Would you lay down your armor?" 

"I would."

"Remain mine forever?"

I rose now, fingers grazing his. What a stupid question. "There has never been anyone that I would give you up for. I am yours for eternity." Hopefully, that would freshen his memory of the promise. He smiled, and my heart leaped to my throat. It's so rare that you see him smile so genuinely, and I believe it may be the most beautiful thing this world has to offer. 

I felt his lips, pink and soft, pressed against mine, and eagerly, I pressed back. I could do no more than drink him in, adoring the taste he had to offer. It elicited a soft bark of laughter from him, such beautiful laughter. I know the things he likes, and I know his flavor. I pressed a kiss to his neck, almost lazily wrapping my arms around his shoulders. That simple thought of possession was enough.

He dove forward, arms around my waist, face buried deep in my chest. Even between the layers of clothes, I could still feel the warmth of his breath pouring onto my skin like a sweet nectar bathed in the sun. My back pressed to an old log, a tree that had uprooted years ago, one that still laid firm, offering itself to new life. A beauty of nature that is hard to ignore. When one thing dies, it is still useful and unforgotten. Long past decay, the chorus will still be faint, thriving in the ground and forestry that birthed from it. 

I found the thought beautiful- that life will continue after death and things will change. 

I ran my fingers through his blonde curls, adoring how silky it felt now that it had been cleaned. This is a hair I've been jealous of time and time again. Thick and wavy, while mine is curly, crunchy, and rather short.  

"Do you ever think about how small we are in the universe? One with Gods and myths aplenty?" 

I glanced to him, his eyes concentrating on my own. It was as if I could see right through his eyes, examine the universe he had in mind. It was built beautifully, scattered with stars that laid upon splotches of blues and pinks. 

But, of course, I picture the universe as something he had created. He has a happy talent of composition, with pencil or with brush, with sword or spear. I've sat many of times, watching him etch away at a page, watching how the drawings breathed beneath his fingers. Often, he'd have to wash his hands in a puddle for he got carried away when painting and made himself a mess. I've seen several of his robes stained with the remainders of a nights' painting session, splotches of vermilion and ultramarine from the scenes he had painted. But they all carry the same message: that he is beautiful in every way and talented in more. 

"I do." 

"We are one of many, but share something that most do not have. Far more than a god could ever gain."

Where is he going with this?

"What would that be?"

"Each other." I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the smile in his voice. A laugh found its way from my lips as I tangled my fingers in his hair. 

"There's not too many who has something as special that we have."

"That we built." He corrected. I nodded slowly, he was right. We built what we had from scraps. What was once a pile of bricks was a reigning tower. It was invisible in broad daylight, afraid of Thetis' wrath, but luminescent in the dark where we stay in Chiron's cave or in these mountains. That's why we hide along the paths nature offer, carrying us away from judging eyes.

The ground has no sense of right and wrong, it does not know sinner from saint, it does not know blasphemy. It just knows that it is carrying and protecting those who walk upon it. It knows that it is doing its job. 

It knows not who it carries, but that doesn't matter, for they will all return to her one day. 

When I am gone, I will be a part of her, but so will he. Our ashes mingled beneath the hard ground. Hopefully, here in these mountains. 

His eyes found mine again and he rose to sit on his knees. "Guess what?"

I smiled, eager to hear. "What?"

He adjusted himself to sit near the stream, still fresh from the early spring. "I believe truly that I am going to be the first hero who is happy."

How reassuring that felt. I've had my doubts, especially with the warnings Thetis has given both he and I. "Really?"

"Yes. And you will always be the reason. I know wherever I go, you will not be too far. You're the reason I'm happy. You are my prince."

My smile widened, though I attempted to hide it behind my hand. His nimble fingers wrapped around my wrist, his pale skin almost bright against my darker complexion. 

"Patroclus."

"Yes?"

"You are the reason I want to be a hero. For where I walk, people will know your name too. And they will know our love. I'm yours."

I wrapped my arms around him tightly, burying my face in his neck. 

Patroclus, I thought, Lover of Achilles.