μεγαλήτωρ (great-hearted)

it is a miraculous thing. despite his anxiety, in spite of his nerves, a calming sense of peace washes over him the moment the door opens and the sight of patroclus’ form becomes visible. “the one and only austin pelham, at your service.” achilles leans forward, chin dipped ever so slightly, as he mimics the submissive gesture to the best of his over-exaggerating ability. it lasts a few seconds, five at the most, before he straightens his posture, a chuckle leaving his lips as he does. perhaps it is not so miraculous after all; putting him at ease has always been one of patroclus’ most prominent talents.

“likewise.” achilles nods. “it’s been too long since the last time i saw you.” and though he may be, once again, over-exaggerating a little bit, he does mean it too. it is evident in the way his eyes roam, taking in every possible detail of patroclus’ appearance with the same intensity as a thirsty man gulps down a bottle of water after spending a day in the scorching heat of a desert. he makes notes, commits them to his memory and promises to protect them like they were his most prized possessions — and really, they are. 

control yourself. he does not remember.

and now it is his cheeks’ turn to switch color, embarrassment over his own mistake coloring them a bright shade of red. achilles drops his gaze to the floor as he draws in a couple of calming breaths. that is precisely what he needs to get everything back under control. when he lifts his chin, eye contact automatically re-established, his expression is filled with mischievous joy, boyish excitement. “call me entitled if you want, but i don’t like how i have to compete with this… teacher, this normal job thing, for your time.” he pouts — another display of dramatics he has an affinity for. “i don’t like it. gets in the way of my plans more frequently than is acceptable.” 

it briefly crosses his mind, what patroclus thinks of this sudden show of theatrical brattiness. he has no way of knowing, but he can only hope it appears to the other man as endearing rather than irritating. nevertheless, achilles softens his voice when he speaks. “i know it’s your day off, so i’d like to take you somewhere.” he announces. “and before you ask, yes, i was presumptuous enough to reserve things for us without knowing if you’re actually free.”  the laugh that follows has a sheepish quality to it. “so if my intuition didn’t completely fail me, you have around”—he sneaks a quick glance at his watch—“15 minutes to get ready. maybe closer to 10.”

Parker, despite his exhaustion and his surprise, bubbled over with laughter at Austin’s over exaggerated behaviour. He went to reel himself back in, to attempt to remain composed, before realising there was no need to. “It’s been too long, you’re right.” His eyes were bright, flattered by the surprise of his company let alone all the beautiful, golden things rolling off his tongue as he, Hollywood’s sweetheart Austin fucking Pelham, pretended to bow at him on his doorstep.

The entitlement laced in Austin’s statement was forgiven - the idea that he wanted to see him even when he was at work was one that made butterflies spin a riot inside his stomach. “You can be forgiven for sounding like so arrogant - I think I might forgive you most things when you show up at my door like this.” Parker ran a hand through his dark hair to keep it out of his eyes, and smiles at the man standing opposite him. “I’d love for you to take me somewhere.” That beat being alone in his apartment all day, ignoring calls from his mother and finding ways to work on his day off.

“Presumptuous is fine by me. Come to think of it, it’s a trait I’ve grown to like about you.” It had always been something he rather liked in men, actually - along with spontaneity that bordered on recklessness and loyalty that bordered on adoration. “Do I at least get to know where we’re going? So I can wear the right thing?” He liked the way Austin looked at him like he was something to be desired even when he could probably have anyone he wanted.

15 minutes was enough time to change into something much cuter and send a panicked text to Oli about the absurdity of all this. “In the meantime, come in and wait for me.” He smiles and the edges of his eyes crinkled up in happiness at having Austin here. He’d been worried about him after their first meeting, and intrigued by him every meeting after that, and having his familiar, glowing, comforting presence in his space, Parker wasn’t sure how he’d ever let him go. “I got those at the farmer’s market this morning if you’re hungry. I won’t be long.” He said, moving an overflowing bowl of fresh, red-fleshed figs to the centre of the table as he moved to retreat into his bedroom to get ready.

It was as if one moment, there was simply a young man before her, full of promise and heart. And then he transformed, smile fading, shoulders sagging, the very picture of weariness. Somehow she knew that the burden he carried wasn’t simply familial dysfunction (though even that, she would have understood). He looked exhausted the way soldiers do, tired of battle but still standing tall. Parker’s question hung in the air as Alex tried to right herself from the sudden pang of guilt in her stomach (she extended her hand, and a hero finally stood; she withdrew her hand, and a different hero fell) and re-evaluate her plan of action.

“May I take a seat?” Alex asked, tilting her head towards his desk and the chairs near it. The more strategic plan would have been to ask him to coffee, but she hope letting him have the comfort of his own space, surrounded by the innocent drawings by his students and the tell-tale scent of whiteboard markers, would make him more amenable to his parents’ wishes. “I’m sure you don’t need to be told this, but your father can seem quite cold at rallies, and even fundraisers. Your presence could help alleviate that.” She doesn’t specify how.

“Of course.” Parker said, motioning for her to sit as she pleased. He did not anticipate this being a long conversation, but he was willing to have it no matter how much discomfort it would cause him.He might not have respect left for his father but he hardly thought that was the faint of Ms Zhang who had clearly been dealt the impossible taste of making his father seem likable enough to cast a vote for. Either she was in for a rough surprise, or she was good enough at this that none of that mattered much at all. Parker suspected it was the latter.

"No, I'm aware." Parker said warily, remembering all the endless evenings he'd spent under his mother's watchful eye when he came home from boarding school, tasked with convincing his father's constituents that he was a family man first and a politician second,which for a man like Anthony Rhee was no small feat. "I'm sorry, it really seems like you've got your work cut out for you, but I'm not your guy. I'm sure you've been told that l don't speak to my parents, but in all honesty none of that really matters anymore. I'm just getting a little sick of being called on out of the blue when they want something from me." Parker ran a hand through his dark hair and let a sigh rattle him. "What do they want then? For me to show up and play happy families with them at some event?"

an easy target. such a label pokes at the fires beneath her feet, her entire body somewhat shamed and alight as she clenches her fists beneath his table. for as long as iris had lived she had hoped she’d develop an outer shell to protect her — as phoebe did at her age. even her jaw clenches beneath silk skin, her porcelain appearance shattered in seconds as her heartbeat triples in a mere second. a mother’s fury is a force so strong not even a god could not stand in its path; her expression alone tells that story as she imagines her daughter torn apart in the playground. the world alone should be grateful that phoebe had yet to remember her true mortality, because once that moment came the world would have to sit back and watch as the anger of a mother truly flew through the earth itself. “no!” she snaps, her pride creating another layer to protect herself from the softcore that barely ever saw the true surface. with her emotions coming to light, phoebe covers her groan with a cough and lets her eyes fall from his to instead land on his pencil pot, internally mocking him for blunt leads. 

“i’m SORRY… but nothing is happening at home. it’s just iris and i, that’s all-” eyes close for a second, counting her breaths as she tries to come down from the urge to create a whirlwind of violence. perhaps it was over the top, melodramatic of the mother who loved her child so dearly. but nothing could stop her, not when she had little else to think about. the teacher’s words softened the blow of each pang of regret and fury that surged through her veins but still, they did little to quench the beating of her heart. the only thing that could help was yoga or boxing, so she took her phone from her pocket and quickly sent a personal trainer a text to arrange a session at their earliest convenience. “you see, iris is my entire world… i won’t see her wilt when she has the petals to match the fields of elysium,” such a comparison goes by her mind without a thought; the mention of the afterlife she had one so considered presented as empty words and empty words alone. “is there anything i can do? fuck — sorry… i mean, should i try to talk to her? what if she doesn’t talk to me? what if she lies to me? it seems she’s eager to talk to you, mr rhee.” 

Parker did his best not to flinch at the intensity of Ms. Faithfull’s reactions. They were fair and they were valid, and he had been teaching long enough that he had weathered similar before. Never quite like this, though, if he were to be honest - there seemed to be something mythic, something monumental about the way this woman defended her daughter. It warmed the depths of Parker’s heart - to have a mother like that was a wonderful thing - but it stirred fear too. Not personal fear, but for someone else. The voice in his head that was Patroclus screaming out at him was saying ‘she is like you, another mortal victim of that godforsaken war who had to take matters into her own hands' but Parker could not hear him. He didn’t know how to listen, though mention of those Fields of Elysium where had had resided for so long resonated a little louder in those memories.

“She will not wilt. Not when she has you to make sure this only makes her stronger.” He didn’t know Pheobe well, of course, but he’d always been good at gauging people’s intentions and though she seemed sharp, he thought he was right that dear little Iris was in very very safe hands. Parker leaned forward and clasped his finger’s together. “I think you should try to talk to her. I’ve never known Iris to be a liar, and to know she’s not alone in this will probably mean the world to her right now.” Parker nodded. “She and I have talked about it a little, yes, but she needs her mother for this. She needs you, Ms. Faithfull. I feel as though if she knew you were on side, and understood the way that we want her to stick up for herself was something you condoned and respected, that she might bloom a little brighter, to use your own metaphor.” He smiled, determined that this would be the start of the end to little Iris’ troubles. 

achilles: so text me the address and the best time and ill be there

achilles: thats... unfortunate :( [ so even in this existence, those greedy gods had not been kind to his philtatos. make that another addition to his already long list of 'reasons to dislike the gods'. ]

achilles: u didnt ask, i offered. theres a difference.

achilles: the offer still stands. it will indefinitely. and i swear on my honor that i have no ill intentions.

achilles: that says very little to me, but if what they say is true, that u look like the dad pig, then i already like the character

achilles: bcos that means the dad pig is veeeeeery cute. a snack if u will. [ his fingers hovers over the screen, a slight show of hesitation, before he presses send. perhaps it is daring to let his feelings bleed through like that; but when has he ever been anything but hopeless when it comes to patroclus? ]

parker: they're coming early - something about having a damn spin class to get to. i know i should tell you not to or be polite or something - but im actually shitting myself about meeting with them and seeing your face would really help. not just to intimidate them either, obv 😊

parker: no pressure though, you're honestly so forward (in a very good way) i can't tell if you're kidding or not

parker: honestly, i'd much much rather spend a day with u instead of 25 six year olds who don't know how to sit still. [ parker takes a deep breath and wills himself to be more forward than he'd usually be. ] so, seeing as the offer stands indefinitely, we should organise something. i think i'd be fun, and call me crazy, but i never assumed your intentions were bad, austin. really, ur much more of a sweetheart than i expected. not that i really knew what to expect if i'm honest this is all a bit surreal.

gentileschi or morisot. she repeats the name over in her head as if she knew who they were — the mother nodding generously before rolling her lips together to seem lost in artistic expression. of course, phoebe knew little about the arts or anything at all! though she had attended a good school and had once become the chairman of the debate club ( for the yearbook picture, really — and phoebe enjoyed hearing the own chime of her voice ), she was rather dim — her lack of academia thought becoming more aware as her daughter grew older with each year, her small brunette churning out names, dates and titles to which phoebe had no clue what she was talking about. the school was obviously educating her to standard phoebe couldn’t quite grasp, but she was okay with that - as long as iris was good. 

she sits in her chair but a part of her reaches out to jump to her feet. though the relationship that grew between mother and daughter was far from a standardised bond, phoebe faithfull knew fully well that she’d die for her daughter. and to know that she was being bullied at school made her skin crawl and itch, her manicured fingers already going to scratch her wrists as she listens to parker, iris’ favourite teacher. without realising it her teeth grind, the anger of a mother drawing out her sharp claws and impatience that comes with childbirth. “why are they making fun of her?” she snaps, eyes wandering as she tries to remember all the faces in her class, eventually picking on a few pretty looking children who looked like typical bullies or in actual fact, girls who would’ve been phoebe’s friends if she had been iris’ age. “what are they’re names? i’ll call their mothers! i’m sorry but i’m not about to stand by and let this happen!” 

“Because she’s quiet, and she sticks to herself. I don’t think it really matters to them what they’re teasing her about though, I think it’s because they’ve identified that she’s an easy target when she never fights back.” Parker sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair. This was never an easy conversation to have, and he hated to see such concern on the face of a mother who so clearly adored her daughter. He saw himself at that age in Iris - small, quiet, in desperate need of approval and kindness - and part of him hoped that somewhere deep down in her she had the same earth-shaking anger he did, and that it would rear its head sooner rather than later. “Is there... anything going on at home that might have made her so reserved? I know that’s a personal question, Ms. Fathfull, but I’d like to be able to help Iris as best I can.” 

He tensed up at her visceral words, and though he understood, he did his best not to escalate the situation. “I appreciate that. And believe me, neither am I. But in these situations, I think there are more subtle ways of going about putting a stop to this - even if I know that my reaction would be exactly the same if I were in your position.” A small smile was all he could offer. The children in the class that were picking on Iris had very little of Parker’s respect, even though he tried his best to give them all the benefit of little judgement. “Between you and I, your daughter is one of the most wonderful kids I’ve ever taught. She has so much joy in her, and I’d like to see it return.” 

narcissus - your best physical feature?

❝ i like how tall i am. i think if i were smaller i’d come across completely helpless, and i don’t love that dynamic for obvious reasons. i like the way people take it as a sign not to mess with me even when i have the habit of letting people walk all over me for too long until i snap. i used to hate it - back when being tall meant i was also strangely gangly and weird, but it suits me better now i think. ❞

hydrangea - proudest moment?

( the poets revered patroclus for his strength in his final battle - felling a son of zeus, and a vast number of trojans - but that was not what brought him pride. the opposite, in fact. he was not built for war, despite the fact he had forged himself within it. 

different things, better things, mattered to him.

his hounds sat at his feet or trailed behind him in his shadow wherever he went at troy. obedient and docile and adored by their master - one of the dogs whelped in the very first summer they spent on the beach at troy, and the two hounds he had brought with him grew to five (eventually, it would be nine). the runt of the litter was too small, and patroclus knew it would perish if left to the world, so he carried it around with him for weeks, tucked in the folds of his chiton so that he could tend to it when the puppy’s breathing got raspy or its little whine emerged from the fabric. after a month of receiving the choice morsels off his plate, and more attention from him than even achilles got over those weeks, the dog grew strong enough to venture out of his sight, though she always remained his favourite. 

he felt pride at the sight of her - named chloris for her pale colouring - that he could still ensure life prevailed even amongst all this death of war was a beautiful thing. )

rose - describe your crush.

❝ i’ll tell you so long as you promise to keep away from that ella vandertrap lady. ❞ parker scrunched his nose up, embarrassed but open with his thoughts. ❝ he’s cute as hell - gold curls, dark eyes, the whole thing. looks like he’s some sexy marble statue come to life just to torment me. he’s so familiar even though we just met, and i feel like i really understand how to make him smile and how to make him laugh even when we barely know each other. they say that chivalry is dead or whatever, but honestly, he offers to do nice things for me at every turn, i hardly believe that’s true anymore. he’s sweet even for all his bravado, and his dimple makes me want to scream it’s so cute. i’m a goner, can you tell? ❞

ginger - least favourite food?

❝ i will go to my grave despising milk - in anything. i think i’m lactose intolerant because it makes me feel so ill, but at boarding school they used to make us have it and told me to just suck it up which only made the aversion stronger. mac and cheese? gross. yogurt? truly foul. ice cream? you’re on thin ice but you can stay.  ❞

❝ i’m a cancer! and i think i fit the bill pretty well. i feel things deeply, a little too much so, some would say, but a little too defensive when i get backed into a corner. i feel great empathy for those who are suffering, but i tend to see things in the black-and-white - especially where i feel like i’m being deceived or like there is injustice. all i need is a big hug at any given time, honestly. ❞

achilles: listen if theyre posh and shit, i can actually show up

achilles: i grew up around that area so they know me or my name at least

achilles: i am absolutely not above using it to threaten them as much as is needed

achilles: [ the next message curves the corners of his lips upward, despite his pain just moments ago. such is the talent of patroclus; such is the way it has always been. ]

achilles: honestly its more about not having to listen to her nag abt me ignoring her.

achilles: then do it. i can, idk, pay ur school to hire a substitute teacher or smth. day off for u. win-win.

achilles: [ a pause. ] who is peppa ig tho

parker: omg that would be a total dream i'd love to see the look on their smug faces if u showed up. i just /know/ they would stop having a go at me - honestly i'm not above just name dropping u to intimidate them at this point

parker: well, either way ur a good son. i'm sure she appreciates it. if my mother rang me and i picked up i think she might genuinely have a heart attack

parker: [ he feels his heart swell at how grand a gesture austin mentions, casual as ever. he can't tell if he's serious, or if this is just the kind of talk movie stars employ to make people blush in the late-night darkness where thankfully nobody can see. ] i could never ask that of u, you're far too generous. but i will hold very tight to the fact u even offered that next time i dissociate at my desk

achilles: i would love to say im sorry but im absolutely not

achilles: how is it my fault??? [his laughter is a loud sound in the emptiness of his apartment.] if anything, id say the parents are to blame. theyre the ones letting little kids watch movies wayyyy above whats suitable for them

achilles: fear not bc i will protect u against the wrath of karens and susans and whoever ur coworkers or the parents are called [i will always protect you, he types, but deletes it before his impulses manipulate him into actually sending that message.]

achilles: [for a minute or two, there's silence. it's a tough dilemma; he has never kept anything from patroclus, but he cannot tell the real reason he's still awake.]

achilles: mom said she'd call around this time. timezone differences are charming.

achilles: plus rn im unemployed lol. no need give a fuck abt trivial stuff like a proper sleeping schedule.

parker: that's exactly the argument i'll be using tomorrow on the karens and susans - not that it matters, the school i teach at is posh, apparently it's my job to fix their myriad of mistakes 🙄

parker: thank u my knight in shining armour i'll be sending out an SOS call if their collective can-i-speak-to-the-manager power becomes too much for me

parker: that's cute that you're waiting up for her! mummy's boy energy is off the charts rn. do you guys talk a ton or? [ he cringes once the text goes off - should he be calling austin pelham cute? is it too personal a question? parker can only chew on his bottom lip and hope that he texts back at all. ]