The boys were standing in the middle of the same old forlorn beach . Icarus stood on his toes , his hands wrapped around Apollo's neck . Apollo's loving hazel eyes were like hallways , echoing Icarus's name repeatedly . They were gazing into the profundity of his pious soul , penetrating the mere earthly flesh . Everything in the surrounding was stationary , time was frozen . They just stood there , feet in the sand .
" Can I k-kiss you, please ?" Apollo whispered loudly . And then he could feel a warm pair of lips against his own . And in that moment Icarus thought maybe there was fire within his every bone . He felt his soul had returned to the waters . Like every part of him that had originated from a dead star was alive, and breathing once again .
Apollo tenderly kissed the boy , in an almost intimate way . Apollo embarked upon stroking Icarus's cheek with his thumb as they kiss passionately . It was just the way peaceful slumbers kiss the eyes of a baby , the words of the lullaby still ringing in her ears , a wanton frolic cry coming from her , who wakes up with the break of a new dawn , chirping of birds and smiles of those from the broken window everywhere . As one wave falling meets another wave falling forward in the sea , under the summertime cresent moon light , but their love would surpass the sparkling tides . Deserted by love , Icarus touches his wet lips when Apollo pulled away , not letting go of his fingers , panting out of breath . He stood there drenched in the loving of love , running through the rainbows , in his mouth the pastels - tints of its passing , absorbing every touch of its vibrant colour . He loved this warmth , that pulsates in his blood , and he penetrates across its splendid variety , coming across pages of Apollo become only the small particle drinking from his own mouth
Icarus's own soul .
Apollo felt he was smouldering , not with flame but with love and desire . The one kiss that he ought not to dismiss . The first touch might smother him , and by the second he would be lying in the delayed hands of death . And he looks around him , the naive environment , the shore sand banished from the stronger water , the serene moon smirking from distance , the dark skies and the million stars laid out on the carpet of outer space . They did not get to kiss Icarus like he did and he knew he was the most fortunate among them all .
All his life , Icarus talked to his rough elbows and embraced his scraped knees . Today he wished they would stop existing . He wished the sun would never rise and they would kiss again , like it's their last day on this dystopian ground . Perhaps he was in search of someone like Apollo all this time . His kiss was a humid seal of delicate affections . His kiss symbolised pledge of future bliss like pilgrim's to confluence on the foundations of a shrine . The kiss meant dumb confessions , hollow promises and chaste concessions . The kiss conquers him , possesses him and he surrenders , he inhales his bated breath while they kiss . He wants to lay here with him , till the sun dries up and the moon capitulates , in a state of despair . Until they both get lost in the trails of the eclipse unknown and hold him till the clocks run out of time altogether .
They did not have doubts or queries , for their lips vowed to the revolving moon . Their hearts were tied together , hung on a thick bond of warm wax . United by chains of wild flowers threaded together . Apollo drew his hands on his back when he buried his head on his shoulder , finally he knew what Icarus's skin smelled like and Icarus was aware of the taste of Apollo's mouth . They were atlast seeing beyond vehement words or bodies or layers of wheatish skin . He was driving him insane with a certain pleasurable agony he had no idea even existed . Love was writing a song , wide grin on her face , for the two of them , with dainty letters , and fascinating lacey calligraphy . Two drowing lovers , lost at sea , Apollo's lips adrift in Icarus's .
" you know " Apollo spoke up . Icarus looked up at him .
" I know someone who can help you , and I want you to meet them . I can't bear your exertion . I love you so much , okay ? " .
Icarus did not respond . He thanked his lucky stars , that's all . Referring to the last part of his sentence Icarus replied , " I think I love you more , Apollo " .
Anytime of anyday , he would gladly get his fragile heart broken into a million minute fragments , lying beautifully and uselessly on Apollo's bedroom floor , as he played his treasured lament on the grand piano against the tattered tapestry , when the dusted pendulum strikes midnight and he can feel the wind in his auburn hair , coming in through the window , that the curtains do not have the power to obstruct . He does not care if everyone will rebuke him for staking it all . He just wants Apollo to kiss his broken wings better .
YOU ARE READING
The Boy who loved the Sun ✓
Historical Fiction"Icarus" it came out raw and hoarse. "Apollo" he said it soft and sweet Warning : major character death, mention of self harm, bi polar disorder
