The Song of Patroclus

Chapter 10

It was spring, and we were fifteen. Chiron had predicted that the winter ice would last longer than usual, and it had. The sun felt exceptionally warm against my skin. Our tunics were discarded the second summer came.

The last memory I had of my face was two years ago, when I lived in Phthia. There was no way to measure my own growth other then the slight reflection of the river. As we laid next to the river, I could not help but turn to look at Patroclus.

He had grown, and grown well.

His arms, although still pretty slender, were now toned, the muscles shifting with his every movement. His lips were fuller, curvier. His shoulders were broader, and his legs were firmer and stronger. I smiled and stood up to continue the stretched I had paused.

"You look older," He spoke.

"I do?"

"Yes. Do I?"

I could have answered honestly; "Yes." I did not have to think about it, as staring at him takes up most of my time now. Instead, I said;

"Come over here."

He did as I asked. I took in his body, his godly lips and defined stomach.

"Yes," I answered. He looked more like a man then the innocent, wide-eyed exile I had met all those years ago.

"How?" He questioned. "A lot?"

"Your face is different."

"Where?"

I ran my finger against his defined jaw.

"Here. Your face is wider than it once was." He reached his own hand where mine rested, and the simple touch burned deliciously.

I took his hand and directed it to his collarbone. "You are wider here also." I gently traced his collarbone until I found his Adam's apple. "And this." He swallowed deeply and I let my finger ride against the motion.

"Where else?" He urged.

My hand traced over his chest, which now grew beautiful brown hair. I moved my hand over his stomach, and rested it right above his pelvis. I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, asking if I should continue.

His face warmed and I resisted the urge to smile.

"That's enough." And with his order, I finally removed my hand.

He sat back down and I resumed my stretches. I contemplated complimenting him on his beauty, but I could not find the words to do so.

Aphrodite, in all her glory, could not compare to even a single smile of his. The sun and stars combined could not compete with the shine in his eyes. I could try to explain to him how etheral he looked now, but I would fall short of words. No words could do his beauty justice.

"You would not be displeased, I
think. With how you look now," Was what I said. It was a lazy compliment, and by no means did it compare to how marvellous he was, but nevertheless, he blushed. We spoke no more of it.

--

We were almost sixteen. Soon, messengers from Phthia would come, with gifts and blessings from my father, and quite a number of responsibilities. Sixteen was the last of our childhood, after this year I will have to handle the affairs of courts and kingdoms, of wives and enemies. I was to be wed, with a random girl of high status. We would have children, or child, if we were lucky enough to have a boy on the first try.

I remeber the way the boys talked of the servant girls, as if they were animals, meant to be cut and eaten. Even their compliments sounded like degradation, even their appreciativeness repulsive.