𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 ; patrochilles ｡

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

A/N: Today's chapter's dream sequence contains dialogue that are direct excerpts of Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. If you have not yet read it, I highly recommend you do so.

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"Name one hero who was happy."

I looked up, dropped into this unrecognizable place. In front of me was a boy no older than fifteen, his hair glowing like the sun and his eyes shining with excitement and mischief. I knew not who he was and yet I knew that I had been in this place thousands of times before. Was this another dream? I was pulled back by a hand on my shoulder.

"What?" I heard myself say.

"I said name one hero who was happy."

I hesitated, my mind blank. The boy took this as an answer.

"You can't," he said, the shine in his eyes back as he leaned closer.

"I can't," I agreed.

"I know. They never let you be famous and happy." He raised an eyebrow, almost as if setting up for the confession of the century. Somehow I knew that look– the fire in his eyes. It was intoxicating.

"I'll tell you a secret," he continued.

Lost in the moment, I replied breathlessly, "Tell me."

"I'm going to be the first," the boy said, grabbing my hand and pulling me closer. "Swear it."

"Why me?"

"Because you're the reason. Swear it."

"I swear it." I squeezed his hand, blood rushing through my veins.

"I swear it," he echoed.

It was silent then, just the two of us sitting on a rickety, wooden bed and holding hands. I could hear movements and the sound of people down the hall. I knew that we could be separated if someone walked in, but it was the last thing on my mind. All I could hear and see and feel was this boy in front of me, staring into my eyes as if he felt the same. I knew he did.

All of a sudden, he smiled. It was big and bright and full of love, desire, and the tantalizing opportunity of adventure.

"I feel like I could eat the world raw."

"Parker," I heard a voice call out. Someone shook my shoulder and I reached up to rub the sleep out of my eyes, slowly opening them against the bright sunlight. Otis was standing over me.

"Dude, it's noon. Wake up." I sat up, eliciting a groan from my throat. I must've stayed up way later than I meant to last night.

That was when I saw Brianna standing in the corner of the room. She was wearing her usual attire of jeans and a cropped t-shirt, but had a long, flowing cardigan on top. As she moved, her big earrings dinged against themselves.

"What are you doing here?" I said, still half-dazed with sleep.

"We've got to head out soon before that woman I was telling you about closes shop." At that, my dream suddenly came rushing back to me, every detail as clear as day.

"I had another dream last night," I said, standing up to get ready. "I didn't die this time."

"What was it about?" Otis asked, back to sitting on his bed.

"There was a boy and we were just sitting and talking. He was saying something about how heroes are never happy, but he was going to be the first. Because of me."