Chapter Text
One morning, sheltered amongst hues he himself wasn’t familiar toward, Phainon waltzed through hallways of walls painted golden and bearing photos that were not his of his own life. His mind was desperate to grasp at a thought, to be awake, ultimately failing as a numb tune played dissonantly like a jukebox in an empty diner and crickets chirped. Taste, dullness and beseechment for something to eat. Touch, clothes that tugged on him slightly, clothes that weren’t even his. Smell, the scent of something sweet lingering and only becoming increasingly potent with each step he took. Hearing, the soft sizzling nearby that drew him in like a siren’s song. And sight, as Phainon turned a corner and looked up from the ground. The golden rays were what caught his eye first, scorching the kitchen in glimmers of light akin to a beautiful meteor shower. And past the numerous rays, the second thing that caught his eye was him. His blond hair was tied and his back was exposed; the red tattoos that traced throughout his body could be seen and appreciated ever so easily. It was what Phainon did anyway, silently noting the broadness of his shoulders, each curve and dip along his spine, and how the muscles creased with each movement and each breath. His mind caught on a thought, a simple thought that could speak just as much as Phainon would be able to wax poems and song. And it was nothing short of a beautiful thought, a grand revelation that falls through softly like a paper raft on a calm stream.
“Are you staring, Phainon?”
A quiet laugh danced out of Phainon’s mouth as he waltzed up to Mydei.
“I wanted to appreciate your back is all.”
Maybe it was a trick that played on the Deliverer’s eyes when the slightest hint of red flickered on Mydei’s face. He took great joy in it, however; especially when Mydei let out a harsh “HKS” under his breath. Just as Phainon reached him, he wrapped his arms around Mydei delicately as if it were a fragile flower, pressing his body onto the other and slotting his head between the shoulder and neck. His body felt like it was on autopilot. He doesn’t know exactly what compelled him to do so, why he did that, why his mouth was subconsciously muttering ramblings to Mydei of which Phainon would forget not even a second after. He thinks his tiredness is getting to him, a thought accompanying the slowly deprived senses until complete black.
“I like you.”
A pause of sizzling honey cakes on the pan before a scoff.
“Do you?”
“No, not ‘I like you,’ more than that even, Dei.”
It was the final moments Phainon could remember, could remember everything before a dream began. As the crackle of the pan slowly faded out into the pitch black of slumber, as his taste became nothing of importance, but right before his touch and sensation was truly and completely lost: he could feel a pair of lips on his forehead, a touch tender and loving.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Phainon woke up to hugging a pillow tightly and instinctively turning to his right. He should’ve known that he’ll only meet eyes with the balcony in the distance, but it was still an odd sight despite this being his room. Usually, half-covering the sight of that balcony was a man, Mydei lying there with golden sunlight cast upon his skin and with tousled hair. Phainon would breathe in the sight, forgetting his troubles away. But, things were now different, and Phainon could only wonder if Mydei was doing fine in Castrum Kremnos.
Ironically, the bed feels heavier without him.
Phainon got up, stretching and yawning. The day wouldn’t wait on him and he was more than sure that Aglaea had a mission for him. It’s for Amphoerus’ sake after all, everything they would do, he knew more than anyone. But somewhere deep in his heart always and almost selfishly, would be:
I miss you, Mydei.
One morning, of many mornings, a choir sang a melancholic hymn.