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The sun streamed through the tree’s thick branches like water flowing in a river. The air was sweet with the scent of budding flowers. Chirps echoed from all around the meadow, coming from insects hidden away by the foliage. Birds hummed in time with the frogs’ ribbets and the wind was casting a cool breeze on Achilles face.
He was slowly weaving his fingers through Patroclus’s hair, brushing out the tangles in an utmost intimate way. Patroclus’s head laid upon Achilles’s broad chest, warm and content. The boy’s eyes were closed, a small smile resting on his face. The cherries sprouting from the tree’s branches hung so low, Achilles could almost pick them. He decided against reaching for them. He wouldn’t dare disrupt the sleeping boy.
It was almost like the war didn’t exist. Days like this, slow and easy, were difficult to come by. With all the stress of the Trojan War, Achilles barely had time to just sit and rest with his beloved Patroclus. He cherished this moment in his hands. A moment of peace and silence away from the chaos of the war. Yes. He held it close to his heart.
A nearby lavender caught Achilles’s eye. Carefully, he reached over and plucked it from it’s nesting spot. He twirled it once, twice in his fingers before braiding it into Patroclus’s long hair. The other boy stirred but didn’t wake up. So Achilles picked another flower. And another. And another, until Patroclus’s hair was decorated with colorful flowers, bejeweled with nature’s beauty.
At the final flower, Patroclus woke. Rubbing his eyes with his hands, he slowly sat up in Achilles’s lap. His baffled expression made Achilles smile.
“What?” Patroclus asked, tilting his head.
Achilles took his hand. “Nothing.”
Patroclus raised his hands to his hair and ruffled his eyebrows at the new textures. “What’s this?” He asked again, pulling out a yellow flower.
“A daffodil.”
The exiled prince chuckled. “I mean, what is it doing in my hair?”
Achilles took the flower with his nimble fingers and held it in his cupped hands. “It represents rebirth. More specifically, how you changed me for the better. How I love that about you.”
The other boy seemed surprised at this sudden show of fondness, but didn’t deter. “And this?” He pulled out the lavender.
Achilles added it to his cupped hands. “Purity, calmness. What you make me feel by just being there. Serenity.”
A mischievous smile made its way onto Patroclus’s face. “Purity, huh? I think we lost that a while ago…”
The princeling turned red. The exiled prince burst out laughing, eyes filled with mirth.
“This?” A red flower.
“Romance. A symbol that my love will never hinder?.”
A smile.
“This?”
Achilles smiled. This was his favorite. “That’s an edelweiss flower. It means eternal love.”
This time Patroclus blushed. Suddenly they were 16 again, grazing in Chiron’s gardens, holding hands and being miscreants. Not 19 and hoping to survive. Away from the war, from the fighting. No violence. Just happiness and love. For a moment, just a little moment, everything was alright.
This went on until the last flower was plucked out and it’s meaning told. A general theme of love, happiness, and gratitude was continuous. The flowers didn’t lie. All those feelings were real and they were Achilles’s, his to cherish, his to hold. And he would never let go.