Vangelis had always been a curious child. However, the questions he asked, his parents gave no answer. His mother avoided and changed the subject while his father merely stared at him with that disapproving look that he knew was a signal that the conversation was over. He didn't ask for much, just why he appeared so different from his family. He was light haired with gray eyes while his family had dark hair. Even at the age of six he knew he didn't fit in.
His parents had told him once that he looked like an uncle from his mother's side, but he was skeptical. He had never seen this uncle and when asked about him his mother, with her frazzled brown hair and dark blue eyes, kept glancing back to his father who would quickly told him to go outside and play with his brother and he would grudgingly go. He didn't like his brother Simonides. He was three years older than him, a direct clone of his father and his favorite pastime was bullying and his favorite target was Vangelis. He and his friends would gang up on him and he would come home with many untold bruises on his body. Many times his mom would ask where they came from and he just couldn't tell her.
"I fell down amongst the rocks," he would say and leave it at that.
He couldn't say anything about his brother. Simonides was the golden boy, the one who the village boys looked up to and was the one to gain father's inheritance. Not to mention he acted like an angel at home. Vangelis mostly avoided him as much as he could, spending his time in a grove hidden behind his home. It had lush greenery and it was a place where he could be himself and relax away from his family. It was also, where he met him.
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Hermes quirked an eyebrow as he observed the boy. He was behind a tree watching, carefully, his every move.He had a cut on his forehead that was bleeding in tiny, scarlet droplets and dark purple bruises covered his arms. Despite this, he didn't cry. The cold, hard and steely gaze of hatred was all he saw in the boy's eyes.
He was tough for one who barely reached Hermes's hip. Then, slowly but surely, Hermes saw one stray tear escape and trickle down his cheek. Then another and another until the child's small body trembled with his sobs. Hermes took a hesitant step towards him with the sound of Zeus's command hammering in his head. He was not to come in contact with the boy but found he could not keep his promise.
He hovered over to him and landed in front of him. The boy's wide, gray eyes stared at him as his mouth trembled. His chin was soaked with unwiped tears. An unuttered question hung between them.
"Hermes. Nice to meet you,"
The god sat leisurely beside him and wiped one cheek with his thumb. He really did look like Helen down to his very toes. He was a beautiful child. And he would make a gorgeous lad, Hermes thought to himself. He was glad he was given the job to watch him instead of his brother Apollo. His love for beautiful boys was his downfall.
"My name is Vangelis." he said while wiping the tears off his face with his bare arm.
"I shall take care of you from now on. This I promise you."
Vangelis shot him a doubting look and then, hesitantly, laid his head across Hermes lap. The messenger god smiled softly and stroked the boy's blond curls tenderly. They were both unaware of the dark presence watching them.
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Eris couldn't hold back her excitement. Hera's hypothesis had been correct, Hermes couldn't stay away from the boy for long. He also already seemed to have feelings for the child. Amusing, she thought, but not unexpected. He is Helen's child after all.
She wondered for a moment if she should tell Hera about this delightful new development then shook her head mirthfully. The ace was in her hands now. She would say that they met and nothing more.
YOU ARE READING
Abaddon (BoyxBoy)
Historical Fiction"His mother has named him Abaddon." "What mother would be cruel enough to name him such a thing?" "Helen of Troy." Helen of Troy, viciously taken by Deiphobus, brother of Paris, to be his wife, births a babe of the Trojan lineage and sends him away...