Info - tragedy, forbidden love, story based off myth, character death, light mention of masturbation
They called him Icarus in the retellings, but I called him Timothée. They called me the sun, but he called me y/n.
It wasn't my fault I had been born a fiery being. I hadn't even done anything to receive this lonely existence from the Gods. Apollo was practically the only one I knew, but he only saw me once a day. No one wanted to spend time with me. No one asked how I felt and about my dreams....until he came along.
He and his father were imprisoned on the island. He was just as alone as me. He began to speak to the sky as he sunbathed. He was shocked when I spoke back.
We became friends almost instantly. The lover part came second. We couldn't touch, we lived too far away from one another. So when the longing became too much, we would touch ourselves and imagine it was one another.
He showed me his most intimate parts. He would strip down to his bare skin. I would drink in every bead of sweat, I would dance across his golden skin, I would kiss his curls, and I was engulf his body so that he was never cold. If he got too warm, I would pull back.
He never complained thought. When his skin would go from tawny to red and peeling, he didn't rebuke me. He just kept looking up at me with a smile. He was the only one he didn't shy away from me.
I loved him with all my being. We often talked about how desperately we just wanted one touch of one another. We fantasised about healing and soothing our touch starvation and finally touching skin to skin.
That's why it happened. When the story is told, they all call Icarus, Timothée, foolhardy and prideful. They all think he was young and arrogant. He was both, but not in the way they say.
When his father made those wings, he knew they wouldn't survive. He knew his father had warned him. He knew that he had flown too close, and even I was begging him to stop.
"No don't!" I wailed as I saw the droplets of wax and the spiralling feathers.
"We can touch! Y/n, I can touch you now, I have wings!" He was whooping with joy. I saw nothing but intense joy on his face.
"Please," I pleaded as tears made fiery tracks down my face. I was too strong, too intense, and no matter how far away I moved, the wings were disintegrating.
"This is what I want. I want to feel you," Timothée said as his skin blistered in my heat.
"You'll fall," I whispered, my voice rasping.
"I already have," he sighed as his hand finally cupped my face.
The feeling was like ambrosia. I felt every weight leave my body. His hand was soft and large and comforting. My heart was full and perfectly satisfied. I wasn't able to help the way I was smiling from ear to ear. This was all I ever wanted. I wanted to live in this place forever.
"I've fallen for you my love," Timothée said sweetly and the last feather and piece of wax burned away.
Timothée tumbled through the sky. I was screaming, wanting to reach out but I'd only damn him further. I was sobbing and calling his name. Balls of fire fell from my eyes and onto the land beneath.
That's why they say he fell with a smile. This is why the myths say he was laughing as he met his demise. We had finally touched. He had gotten what he wanted and I was left to burn on without.
Icarus meant to fly too close to the sun. I just wish he'd have considered how I would feel to lose him.
