Song of Achilles Really Short Fluff

1

There was no prophecy. No war, no death. Just me and him, laying on the mountain side, wrapped around each other, my hand running through his hair. The sun was setting, and it reflected on the surface of the lake below. We were smiling, and he was close to sleeping. It was a perfect moment. In this moment, nothing else mattered, nothing but us, together, forever, happy. We were happy. We knew little of the war being fought in troy, we knew little of the famed warrior fighting on the fields. We knew much about each other though. I knew every curve of his body, every strand of his hair. I would know him in blindness, deafness, or sick. I knew the way he said my name, tender and sweet. Patroclus. Pat-ro-clus. The way it rolled off his lips, like it was the only name that mattered. And I knew the way his name felt on my lips, whispering it in return. Achilles. a-chill-es. The sweet taste of it, every time it came out. I knew the way his arms felt, settling around me. We knew each other, and we were happy.