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Apparently Phainon wasn’t being patient. At least, that’s what he has been told — of course, by the only man who would actually dare to scold him (he’s the great warrior from Aedes Elysiae after all). The man being the Kremnoan prince, Mydeimos. Phainon sighed. It hasn’t been long since he had slumped across the stretching tabletop of the tailor shop and he was already impatient. Well, if this is all it took to make him impatient then maybe Mydeimos was right in his claim. Phainon sighed again, scratching the tabletop,
“You’ve been here for 4 minutes 46 seconds, Phainon,” the golden-haired owner came out from behind the curtains, eyebrows raised and wearing her usual clipped appearance. “I wonder what it is this time?” The question came out more as a statement, rarely expecting or wanting an answer. After all, most of the time — if not always — Aglaea, the tailor, knew better than to indulge herself in matters of these two fools, those matters being of such serious importance to the concerned individuals but when asked, it might’ve been just something like who ran home faster. Aglaea had enough of that. She had been running this little shop — not so little anymore — for as long as she can remember, her works now one of the finest in Okhema, and known all over Amphoreus. She had met Phainon in his university, where she went as a guest lecturer for fashion studies. Phainon had been overly-enthusiastic, along with his friends, flurrying around her like excited chimeras. From then, she believes, she had grown a sort of soft spot for them. Though she rarely gets to Hyacine (she’s busy after graduation, becoming the head doctor in Twilight Courtyard), Phainon visits her tailor shop often, and Aglaea has never seen a dull day since then.
“How could he say that to me?” Phainon bemoaned, more hurt than angry. “Can you believe it, Lady Aglaea?”
Aglaea stopped the urge to click her tongue. Instead, she said, “No, I can’t Phainon. Indeed, how could he?” Aglaea was not unknown to the antics of the famous duo of Okhema, always bickering their time around. It was rather interesting to see for the first time however, how the supposed intimidating Prince of Castrum Kremons turned so mellow in front of Phainon, and their friendship bloomed just as naturally. Phainon ran across miles just to meet Mydei sparring one of his comrades, and interrupted them to butt in. At that point, everyone of Mydei’s colleagues knew Phainon and how sulky he can get if Mydeimos is not handed over to him and him alone. It was a common — rather endearing — occurring in Okhema. Phainon was silent, for a minute that is, and Aglaea thought she had finally achieved some moment of peace. Alas, Lady Aglaea was gravely mistaken. If anything, that seemed to fuel his apparent misguided belief, and as if slighted, he doubled down on his claim. “Why that’s what I’m saying! How could he!” Aglaea didn’t bother asking how he could do what or for what godforsaken cause.
It was half past noon now, the sun a little less harsh from moments ago; and Amphoreus was finding comfort under the huge white pillars and drinking from the sacred basins. Aglaea watched the sun and wandered past it towards the horizon, past the huge trees, the mountains, the faraway buildings, and wondered of times past. Perhaps she had forgotten much, memories that sometimes almost feel not her own and haunting her dreams at night, but there's a certain sense of relief that she fostered — a relief that seemed hard earned, a relief that she felt she had sought for centuries now. Her feather-like fingers sauntered against the fine fabrics dangling all around her workshop, feeling the softness of touch, the warmth of the fabric warmed by the slanted sunlight coming in, it's as if she had forgotten something. She sees, and sees so much, and somewhere in her all-encompassing sight — there's a gnawing in her heart that if she didn't, she would not ever again, that perhaps the gift of sight, of smell, of taste, of feeling itself was bestowed upon her by some great merciful being. So she allowed herself little pleasures of life. Everyday, cutting through the fine clothes, sewing, spinning her thread, organising, she felt like the happiest person in Amphoreus.
“Hello, Lady Goldweaver hehe~”, a swift wind ran past the opening of her shop, a scratch on the wooden surface, Aglaea sighed again. It seemed, unbeknownst to her, her tailor shop had become the gathering point of some interesting faces in Okhema. Though, Aphrea’s tailor shop was just as popular as hers, she was known for exquisite handiwork and never a mistake in her works.
“Good to see you too, Cifera.”
The feline woman — now visible, fixing her hair — grinned like a cheshire cat, occupying the opposite space of the white-haired warrior.
“Oh! Lady Cipher! Good morning!” Phainon stood up rather abruptly, bowing. After all, everyone knew Lady Cipher — be it for the better or worse — but she was best known for being one of Lady Aglaea's favourites, and anyone worthy of that title must be, as went around the town, of some great formidable feat. Well, they were not wrong. Though her name came up in some stealing records across the city, everyone was sort of used to her harmless shenanigans. And after all, Lady Aglaea's trust was never misplaced.
“Sit down, golden boy, so chirpy in the morning.” Cipher looked around, sniffing, and squinting her eyes. “Hmmn....I smell that prince with you, what, you two had a fight?”
Phainon seemed flabbergasted for being found out so soon, but made no attempt to explain himself. He underestimated their fame as the blazing duo of Okhema — if not Amphoreus, and it was routine at that point. To find Phainon was to find Mydei. Or vice versa. He sat down, possibly (definitely) pouting, crossing his arms across his chest. Okhema's great warrior, y'all. Cipher sniggered. “Ooooh, so big boy left you alone is that it?” Aglaea made a swift and clever exit behind the curtains, because she was not about to be the witness to another tantrum right in the morning.
Interestingly, Phainon looked away, pout still stable, eyes still squinted. Well then. That's new. Usually, Phainon is just waiting for someone to ask him about his woes — more often than not, concerning the Kremnoan prince, who, unlike his intimidating demeanour, is quite a lovely man with a sweet heart. Phainon himself — among a very few — has been the recipient of this sweetness, so uncommon and all the more delightful when it is actually given. The two are known all over Okhema for their bickering, always, over the smallest of matters. Phainon reveled in those. Both from engaging in little challenges with Mydeimos, and also from being known together — Phainon and Mydeimos, together, always. No matter his rebukes, Phainon knows, Mydeimos trusts him with his life. In every great battle, Mydeimos would have no other by his side — more importantly, his back — but this man he called fool, a haikas even, Phainon. Phainon loved when the insults came from Mydeimos, as funny as it sounded. It soothed a strange part of his heart to see the gentle prince be polished and caring with everyone else but be so vulnerable with him to curse him out, and him alone. All his insults only ever hurled at Phainon, all his time these days, have been taken over by Phainon. Phainon is ecstatic.
But that has also given rise to this problem.
You see, on Lady Tribbie's urging, Phainon believed he should be smart, because after all, was he turning out to be all body and no brains? Well absolutely horrifying, he cannot accept that. So he had been visiting the Grove. As much as he was given disdainful looks by several genius scholars over there, Phainon had actually been learning by himself. He had been given time, a lot of time, after all Amphoreus sees no threat in the near future, the sky as still as ever, and no internal conspiracies were brewing. Amphoreus was safe. Phainon had no reason to worry. So he devoted most of his time now to two things — reading, and the more interesting of the two, Mydeimos. Sparring came along with the latter naturally.
But lately, Phainon had found himself in a.... rather.... strange part of the library. The ‘Romance section’, that is. While starting with the first book, he had been horrified, closing and tucking back the obnoxious book on the shelf and ran home like a flustered fool having his first adult encounter. Well, truthfully, it was — even if in a book. Phainon was too busy fighting enemies here and there, protecting Amphoreus, and sparring like every warrior to worry about such things. And these thoughts had never even taken root in his little head. He remembered how often, on the feasting table, his fellow warriors talked in hushed whispers about some adventure, some victory — and it was not the war. Phainon had been confused then, and some took pity on him and patted him on the back saying, “Don't worry young man! You're handsome and strong, you won't have any trouble! If anything, I know a few, want me to introduce?” Phainon had been very confused. Away from Aedes Elysiae, he had no chance or time for romance. But if he didn't know then. he clearly understood now. So now the awakening happened, in the grove, over a book.
Phainon was reeling.
Phainon went back of course. Went back to take out the hastily crumpled book which clearly no one else had touched after him, and started reading. his lips left feather-like marks on her skin, Phainon sneezed, and closed the book. Holy Kephale and all holy things above. He slid down the nearest wall at the far end of the shelves, nicely hidden from the main area of the library, face blooming red. So two people can engage in such atrocious acts, can come so close to each other's skin....Phainon wondered. He thought of himself, would he, someday, really indulge in similar acts with someone? No way, he shuddered visibly. Then, obviously, as his mind was usually occupied with one or the other — fighting or Mydeimos — he thinks of the latter. Mydeimos. The air was warm on his cheeks, and Phainon struggled to breathe. Had Mydeimos indulged in such lewd acts? No. No way. There's no way Mydeimos would get in bed with someone and Phainon wouldn't know. He had literally been with him throughout the day! A sigh of relief leaves him. It stayed only momentarily before he was again consumed by a dread, what about at night? Mydeimos leaves for his home, and Phainon leaves for his, separating. What then? Maybe Mydei had been having an affair under his nose all this while and Phainon had been fooling himself? Is that it? Hot tears were prickling his eyes, Phainon blinked. He had to ask Mydeimos about it. He was a simple minded person, he didn't like being left in the dark or not knowing anything. More than that, he hated not knowing anything about Mydei.
When their sparring session ended for the day, it was late in the evening. Mydei was sweating, but nowhere near tired — okay, maybe a little bit — but he could go for another round if his partner wanted. By partner, he meant of course, only one man — one man capable of standing the same ground as him — Phainon. The said person breathed heavily beside him, lying back on the sand, a gleam of sweat running along his forehead and down across his eyes, disappearing near the little hair around his ears. Mydei followed the movement unconsciously. Phainon, he thought, was a strange man. Not in a bad sense, no. More like, he never came across anyone like him. Every time they meet, Phainon smiles like the brightest sun, smells like the sweetest flower and runs around like he has never been happier. Sometimes — very few times, mind you — Mydei feels like he's being swept off his feet, and he doesn't resist. Phainon comes to him like the kindest storm and Mydei possibly cannot have the heart to deny him. So, he indulged him, more than anyone in his life.
But Phainon has been acting differently lately. Usually, he clung to Mydei like a blob and mydei acted playfully annoyed — trying to get him off of him, but at the same time, reluctant to be free of that warmth. But these days, he's a little....distant. Anyone else would never catch on, because well they're not Mydei, but when it's Mydei, he notices even the smallest details that probably Phainon wouldn't, or no one would for that matter. For instance, this evening, while they were strolling through the Marmoreal market, Theodoros was calling them for some new goods that the duo would definitely like. Phainon skipped towards the store, always so easily pleased. Mydei sighed. Nonetheless, he followed phainon peeking a glance at the ancient vessel the merchant was displaying with exaggerated expressions. “Did you know, this is almost 500 years old? This goes back as old as the times of the old Kremnoan legends, you'd know, right Lord Mydei?”
Absentmindedly, Mydei nodded, still trying to look closer. Unintentionally, their shoulders brushed, a little touch, a comfortable one that made both of them feel safe, Mydei didn't pay too much mind to it at first. He did later though, when Phainon noticeably stiffened, and moved away just a little — not exceptionally far so that Theodoros would notice, but far enough for Mydei to feel the loss of his touch on his arms. Mydei turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. Surely he'd have something to say about that. What he was met with made him stutter in his tracks, Phainon was not looking at him. He seemed unbothered, still indulging the merchant, talking and laughing like usual. Mydei felt a weird feeling strangle his chest. Oh.
“What do you think, Mydei? Should we buy it for your study?” he grinned like usual, but Mydei felt the strain behind. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe.
“I don't need such a thing in my collection. Let's leave.” His reply came out harsher than he intended it to, and the merchant looked taken aback. Phainon again came to the rescue.
"Oh! Sorry, sir. What he meant to say is, he's getting late for lunch, I just heard his stomach growl. We'll come back later, yeah?”
Always such a pleaser.
The guy nodded, smiling in their direction, the atmosphere light again. Then they took off, towards Kyros (the restaurant owner), Mydei silent like a mountain. He was overwhelmed from such a petty thing that it was absurd. A thousand thoughts swam in his head, did he imagine everything? Or, was it really that big a thing to be getting this worked up over? Or, what was he really feeling? Abandoned? Just a little less attention from Phainon and he was already worrying about the worst. More terrifyingly, somewhere in his unconscious mind, it was like he needed Phainon to just call his name, wear this worried look on his kind face, and ask “You alright, Mydei? Need me to do something for you?” As much as Okhema knows them for their constant bickering, they don't know how kind Phainon is when they're together like this. He moves at Mydei's slightest discomfort, worries like a fool when Mydei stops smiling, nags him like a child every second of mydei's goddamn day. And now, he was quiet. Mydei could hear sounds he never had the opportunity to hear before, because Phainon talked non-stop, his voice the only one in his ears and head. Now, he heard the mundane chatter of the market, the rustling footsteps on stone, the gurgling of water in the basins, the wind fleeting through his hair, everything, everything was so deafeningly loud. But Mydei was too much like his partner, and he didn't have the courage to ask. They walked together, their silence also kept together closely.
Another evening, they were walking back together after sparring, and sometimes they climbed the rooftops in Okhema, and watched the moon. Mydei wanted that, he was tired and he wanted that. Often, he had fallen asleep, head lolling over Phainon's shoulders and felt the sight bump of head over his as well. He was the safest then, and closing his eyes did not make him anxious. Phainon was walking ahead, silent again, as he had been for the past few days. Mydei clutched on the hem of his cape, softly, tugged it. Phainon stopped, and turned back, question evident on his face.
“Want to... get on the roofs?” They both knew what they meant, a secret made sweet only by holding it so close to their hearts. Phainon smiled, weirdly. and Mydei waited.
“Um... I’m sorry, Mydeimos, but I'm a little tired today. You know, today you were relentless, haha!” He laughed, strained, and Mydei watched him. Phainon shifted under his gaze, but kept up his charade. “I can't wait to just fall on bed! Sorry, we'll go another day, okay?” Mydei didn't remember what he said then, but the other day never came. Mydei didn't ask again, phainon didn't get back to it.
So when Mydeimos dismissed him the next week, saying he had more important things to do, Phainon had a crash out. More important things? More important than him? He had thus taken his afflictions to the tailor shop amongst his close friends, fretting and whining with no result. Hell, he didn’t even know where Mydei was at the moment.
It has been a week since this had been going on, but it was only on the 7th day that Aglaea noticed something wrong. She remembered all those times Phainon had barged in her shop and cried like a fool, which was why she knew this was different. Her tailor shop was frequented by many — of them her closest, Lady Tribbie was here today. Professor Tribbie is usually rather busy because of her class schedules, her bright face only appearing on the weekends, and Aglaea often found herself waiting for those, to have her closest confidant come to her shop. She rarely goes to her university, lest it disturbs her, even though Tribbie has endlessly mentioned that it is no problem at all. Cifera came by early in the morning, but rushed off as soon as she smelled gold somewhere. They were now sitting, silent, confused in an odd triangle — Phainon, Aglaea and Lady Tribbie.
Aglaea spoke with her eyes, and Lady Tribbie nodded. “Uhh...Snowy? Is everything okay?” She moved closer, “You can tell us if anything's bothering you, you know.”
Phainon sighed. Well, he can only keep this bottled up for so long. “Uh......” They waited for him, expectantly. “Uhhhhh..... so uh... okay no I don't know how to ask this.” Aglaea sighed. There you go.
“Lady Aglaea?” Aglaea looked up to find her dearest customer, Castorice, smiling up at her.
“Yes, Castorice?”
“Uh, maybe I’d come by another time, you seem…” she looked at the two people hogging up the space in the front counter “..busy.”
“Oh no no, Cas, you can sit with us, Snowy here just seems to be troubled! And he won't tell us what's wrong!” Lady Tribbie moved slightly towards Phainon, making space for the girl to sit comfortably.
“Lord Phainon? Troubled?” Then Castorice looked around. Huh. “Is Lord Mydei not around?” Leave it to Castorice to find the problem so soon.
Phainon seemed to stir at the mention of the name, but stayed silent anyway. Castorice noted. “Has... anything happened with Lord Mydei?c This time, with a more direct accusation, Phainon looked up from his lap.
“Castorice,.....uh....I'm not sure if it's an appropriate question, but” He chewed on his lips, anxious that he may come off as a weird person.
“Do not fear, Lord Phainon. You can trust us. After all, we're all friends here, aren't we?” Sometimes Aglaea wondered about this girl. She was so unbelievably soft spoken, so loving of every kind of life, and so honest in her words that she can't help but be fond of her. She was the librarian at the grove, writing her scholarly essays every now and then, and when published they had a little feast to celebrate her achievement — though she got excessively shy at the open praise. Castorice might be one of the few persons that either Mydei or Phainon felt comfortable to open up to, though Aglaea feels it might have something to do with age too.
As if confirming her, Phainon smiled at her. “Castorice, Lady Aglaea, Lady Tribbie…” He struggled, as if he was saying something preposterous. “Is Mydeimos…in a romantic relationship with someone?”
Castorice sputtered, Lady Tribbie's mouth formed an O and Lady Aglaea... Well, she just stood there, unfazed. What a spectacle of folly.
Castorice was the first to recover. “Lord phainon, ahem, why do you ask such a question?”
“Oh god, I sound silly don't I? Kephale above I shouldn't have phrased it like that, I meant—”
“Snowy, shouldn't you ask De directly?”
Phainon stilled. Do what now?
“From what I see,” Aglaea interjected, rubbing her temples, “that seems to be the most sensible course of action.”
So it was a unanimous vote, huh. Phainon slumped defeatedly. Now he can't just go up to Mydei and ask, “Hey Mydei, are you d-dating anyone?” He was even stuttering in his thoughts, he cannot imagine how much of a fool he'll be in front of the actual man. Castorice seemed to understand his trouble, and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Lord Phainon, we know how close you're with Lord Mydei.” And then, almost as if she was letting go of information privy only to her, she whispered in his ears, “Trust me, Lord Phainon. You won't be disappointed. But…” She seemed unsure for a minute, and Phainon deflated. So there was a chance or failure then. “But isn't Lord Mydei getting treated in the Twilight Courtyard?”
Phainon rushed like a madman, little tantrums all forgotten.
Hyacine was trying to take a photo of the sky in her photostone — getting interrupted by Ica — when Clementine called her. Apparently Lord Mydei had been to Castrum Kremons, and returned with a body full of wounds, and was here at the twilight courtyard for treatment. Hyacine rushed, if Lord Mydei was here, it meant his wounds were serious. No matter the fact that he healed faster, but he gets hurt just the same. Mydei was sitting down, his shoulders drooping, and his neatly placed hair was unkempt, his little braid had come undone, making him look more haggard than he probably was.
On the sound of footsteps, he looked up, craning his neck with a little difficulty. “Hey,” he said simply, smiling.
“Lord Mydei! You’ve made yourself like this again!” Hyacine rebuked him, though instantly starting her healing. Mydei feels calm, it’s like the sky is wrapped around him, the soft clouds soothing his pain, the sun healing him and the raindrops making him live again. Hyacine truly was the best doctor in all of Amphoreus. She was going on about something, Mydei heard only phrases, “You’re still a human” and “look at these scars! Lord Mydei!” and “You never listen, do you?” It was comfortable, her scolding him like that. He sat there, eyes closed, letting his thoughts drift away into another day.
He heard another pair of footsteps — they’re heavy but light-footed, and frantic, running almost towards the courtyard. Mydei knows them without opening his eyes. After all this time.
“Hyacine? Is....” His voice quietened. Then, more softly, he spoke. “Is he doing alright?” the pink-haired doctor tilts her head in slight confirmation – meaning, he’s recovering. He heard Hyacine whispering, “Did Cassie tell you?” Mydei heard a relieved sigh, perhaps Phainon had nodded. His heart seemed restless in his chest. It was choking him, as if, if he wasn’t closing his eyes, he’d cry and curse at the man, asking him to go away, that he didn’t need to come and see him if he’s okay after two weeks of no contact. But he was too tired for that. He couldn’t hear anything after that. Mydei could feel Hyacine pressing him down back, and letting him lie down on a soft mattress, but he didn’t bother to open his eyes. He wasn’t ready to confront the man yet. somehow, under the light breeze, the wilting sunlight, and the comfort of twilight courtyard, he fell asleep before he could know.
When Mydei opened his eyes, it was almost evening, the moon distantly visible in the sky, the sun grudgingly setting. He felt woozy, but not bad. Looking down, his injuries didn’t look as bad, and was nearly healed. Mydei stretched a little, and felt the bones in his body respond healthily. He should get back home now. He was going to get up, but instantly stopped, or, he was made to. A slight tug was felt on his cape and he turned — only to find the most incredible, if not endearing sight, he had seen this week. When he had expected his sparring partner to just, ask about his state and leave, Phainon clearly didn't. Here he was, sleeping peacefully, though with an unconscious frown adorning his face, Mydei’s glorious cape held tightly in his hand — crumpled and loved. Mydei swooned. For a moment, he forgot that Phainon was avoiding him, only for a moment. But then he did, and yanked on his cloth. The piece of clothing sprung free forcefully, in the process, waking the one holding it. Phainon woke up startled, his hands instantly reaching for Dawnmaker, looked around frantically for any sight of threat. Perhaps as quickly as he was startled, he understood the situation far too quickly as well and craned his neck to face Mydei. He didn't stand up so that mydei was now looking down on him — quite literally — and Phainon waited.
Mydei did not speak first. Well, he was angry. He shall not concede first and break whatever silent war they have going on. Phainon, of course it's always Phainon, spoke first — muttered something, that is. “Mydei...?” of course, it was his name. Mydei sighed. Even his little tone sounded sorrowful, as if all the forces in the universe had conspired against him, and he was just a common man (albeit he was not), and that Mydei too had turned his back on him and now he’s literally the saddest person alive with the most unfair face that he was giving Mydei.
“What do you want.” It came out more as a statement, hasher than he intended, and Mydei flinched at his own steely voice. Well then. Phainon cowered more.
“Did I do something wrong?” was what he was going to say. Instead, he went, “Did anyone else come to see you? Before me?”
Mydei was horrified, and from the face Phainon was making, Mydei assumed he was even more terrified than he was. “What the hell did you say?”
“Oh! OH NO! I meant...I meant..... you didn't even tell me that you're going to Castrum Kremnos, ALONE, and I have to hear from someone else that you're hurt so badly that you've come to Hyacine. Mydeimos you —”
“Why the hell should I tell you?” Mydei thundered. His voice was calm as the stormy sky in his homeland, calm but potent with the extraordinary force of something happening.
The silence returned, but this time, it was like Phainon's breath was punched out of his guts and he stopped midway like he had swallowed ash. He looked at Mydei, but the latter had already turned away, finding a more interesting spot on the ground. The air was getting chilly as night fell deeper, the nearby trees rustling against the wind, and Phainon still couldn't breathe.
“Oh.” was all he said.
The wind turned Mydei’s face, and he stood there, motionless. Phainon was crying. Hot, big droplets of tears were flowing down his rosy cheeks, falling on the ground, and dissolving against the cracks. Phainon, the great warrior hailing from Aedes Elysiae, was crying.
“Why—” mydei almost wailed, his heart ached.
“So you had taken another?” He hiccupped between sobs, voice hoarse and cracking. “You’d look at another who’s not me, you’d spar with another, you’d walk the streets with another, go home together, and suddenly I am not there anymore? You will not tell me the smallest of things, you've been avoiding me —” Phainon was standing up now, looking into his eyes, still glazed from the tears he couldn't stop. Mydei dumbly stared at him. What was happening exactly? Then he picked up the most offensive accusation among his words.
“Me? Excuse me, I have been avoiding you? Think again, Deliverer. These past few weeks, you had taken a different turn every time you even remotely saw my cape, refused to go out and drink with me, refused to meet my eyes and THEN you have the gall to come to me, wait for me, ask me why I tell you nothing, and what?” He made an incredulous face. “What’s this about I have taken another?”
“I haven't avoided you! I thought—”
“You thought?” Mydei fumed.
“Listen to me! I thought you had company, someone more comfortable than me, someone who you.....”
“Who I what? Spit the hell out Deliverer.”
Phainon’s head hung low, his white strands falling all over his face, wet with tears. Mydei couldn't stand it. Why was he the one looking like a wet mop when Mydei was the one being targeted wrongly here?
“Someone I what?” Mydei asked again.
Phainon sniffled. “Someone....” it was merely a whisper, but loud enough to let Mydei hear it. Loud in the night between them. “Someone you love more than me.”
Phainon expected a punch right in his face, so hard and venomous that he'd topple over like a ragdoll, and he wouldn't even resist. He avoided looking at him, and kept his gaze firm on the ground, fiddling with his fingers, scraping the peeling skin near his nails, hurting a little. He deserved that, deserved to be beaten and and deserved to suffer. But Mydeimos was silent, Phainon reckoned that was worse. But, instead of a punch, Phainon watched his hands being enclosed in those armoured hands, and he looked up faster than ever. Mydei was wearing the softest smile he had ever given Phainon, or anyone for that matter — Phainon refused to believe that anyone else had been the recipient of this beautiful, beautiful smile.
“Someone I love, more than you?” Mydei huffed out a laugh, all his anger dissipating. “Are you hearing yourself, HKS?”
There it was. The endearing insult meant only for him. Phainon gleamed under the moon, the blue in his eyes clear and transparent, speaking of his exuding happiness. Mydei shook his head in exasperation.
“Shouldn't you phrase that differently?”
Now, with the possibility of a rejection almost gone, and something strange brewing, Phainon was flustered. “D-differently? How what—”
“I wonder how Lady Aglaea listens to you everyday. Do you ever pick up anything of substance in her shop?”
“Hey! That’s low—”
“Why should you be so bothered that I might take another, Phainon?” Mydei finally addressed the elephant in the room. Phainon stilled. “That I might love someone more than you, hmmn? Should you not tell me that first before accusing me?” Mydei pulled a white lock a little playfully, before tucking it behind his ears. “Why?”
Phainon scratched his neck. He was incredibly scarlet now, confronting his heart in front of Mydei when he had not confronted it himself in solitude. The tips of his ears were blushing, and Mydei wondered if they travelled down his neck, down his spine, and further down. He scoffed in his head. What an absolute atrocious thought to foster given their situation. The situation was otherwise easy, but considering the other participant was Phainon, it was not. He would take the longest route around this…whatever thing they are having between them, and then come to the most stupid conclusion ever.
“I…I read a book.”
“Phainon.”
“No! Please, hear me out?”
Mydei crossed his arms across his chest.
“Okay so…uh I read a book. And uh…it was…romantic?”
Mydei waited. Phainon stayed silent. “Yes and? What about it?”
“What do you mean, what about it? I just read a romantic book Mydeimos! They were…k-kiss…locking lips together.”
Mydei was stunned. What was this fool saying. Had he really, really been so isolated from any kind of intimate actions? Mydei felt like laughing, which he did in fact, heartily, endearingly, lovingly. Phainon was embarrassed, so red now that Mydei’s cape was his competition.
“You’re laughing!?” He pouted. “Forget it, I shouldn’t have —”
“Oh, Phainon, Phainon.” He still trembled from his laugh, and pressed a hand against Phainon’s chest. His heartbeat seemed to quicken, running faster than the golden spears in Amphoreus. “Oh wow. So, what have you gathered?”
Phainon looked away. “No, you laughed at me. I shall not speak any further.”
“Hey, I didn’t make fun of you. Come,” He pulled them both on the nearest stone bench, sitting down happily. “Please tell me. What have you gathered?”
“I…I realised.” Phainon played with anything he could lay his hands on at the moment, his embarrassment spiking. “I realised that I would hate to see anyone get close to you like that. Like they are all over you.” He shivered in repulsion. Mydei chuckled.
“And how do you hope to solve that?”
“I don’t know.” Phainon answered simply. Oh for the love of Strife.
“You’d hate if I take another.” Phainon nodded profusely. “But what about you? How would you think if you were the one doing all that…to…uh…me?” Now, now, Phainon stared at him as if struck by lightning. Eyes wide, watching him in a newfound epiphany, lips trembling in what Mydei can only call childish excitement.
“I am allowed?”
Mydei sighed for the umpteenth time. “HKS. Who else shall I allow if not you?” Phainon kept staring as if this was a whole new possibility he had never imagined could come true — though he had imagined it himself, rather guiltily.
“You—Me—”
He couldn’t finish, the soft press of lips against his own shutting him up for good measure. Before he could process all that explosive feelings inside his chest, Mydei pulled away with a little sound, intensely satisfied.
“Yes?” he laughed.
“I lose.” Phainon breathed through his mouth.
“As expected.”
Phainon licked his lips. He was but a fast learner. “But I won’t next time.”
“What do you—”
But Phainon had pulled him by his cape, dragged him from the bench towards the nearest pillar and kissed him with his drying, tear-salted lips. Mydei smiled in the kiss, talk about being so fancy. Maybe he’d call it fair game this time. Next time? Why, he’d win for sure.