VII.
Achilles, Achilles, Come Home
Short one about being completely intensely in love and saying goodbye to Kostas before he leaves for international break. (It's very artsy so thats a warning for you ❤️ )
Word count : 1.4k
The stadium is brimming with excitement, the cheers of a sea of blue, red and white drowns out the sound of the Greek fan cheers. With each passing moment your stomach grows more worried and excited, cold sweat trickling down your spine. You are very aware of the power difference between the two teams - the tale of Ereuthalion and Nestor from the Iliad retold on the pitch in front of you. And so you can't help but crane your neck searching the pitch, trying to find the man you are looking for.
There he is, your Greek boy. Kostas' skin glows from spending the seemingly endless days under the Greek sun. Your eyes trace the tattoos along his skin, fingers itching to touch him. To have him in your orbit for just a minute. You admire the way his muscles bulge with each movement of his slender body as he chases the ball, trying to keep it out of the french defender's reach. Your eyes admire the way his clothes drape against his body, like armour made of cloth. His hair is shorter than when you held him last, you note. And the colour has morphed from his usual water soaked wood into a dark gold now framing his face with unruly waves that move and bounce with his swift movements. He's cut it most likely due to the heat and how it got in his way when playing, you think to yourself. The sun illuminates him like one of those Greek heroes from your books and movies, missing only a crown of golden laurels.
The shrill ringing of Kostas's alarm wakes the both of you, and somehow everything suddenly feels cold and distant. A sadness fills the air around you. A sense of finality lingers in the air, like the blade of a guillotine, threatening to cut through the fleeting moments of closeness that the two of you have been trying to latch onto.
You blink your eyes open to look at him, to see the way the sleepiness fills every crevice of his features chiselled by a sculptor. You let your fingers trace his cheek and shoulder, almost expecting marble, noting the way his beautiful eyes follow your movements, like the would an opponent, careful and sharp, except his eyes are full of nothing but love and adoration,something reserved for only you. You bite your lip and close your eyes, treasuring the ability to touch him, feel his smooth skin against the pillowy fingertips, making it last just before the moment passes.
“Is there anything I can say to make you never leave?” you whisper, meeting his eyes once again.
“We both know there isn't.” He frowns, moving a lock out of your face. “I would love to stay… but you know it would not be right.”
“I wish I could come with you,” you let your thumb run over his bottom lip as you speak, “wake up next to you every morning. Like this.”He doesn't reply, but the way he almost bites back tears at the mere thought of what that would be like, makes everything sting. It's not fair to make him imagine a scenario like that. You feel your own chest drop as if someone has pierced an invisible dagger through your sternum and pulled out your heart and lungs rendering you unable to breathe normally, painlessly, a curse for even suggesting the option exists. You know he has to go and you know it's only temporary. A few weeks, not even a month, but each time is as painful as the last.
“I love you,” you whisper, unable to find other words to fill the silence.
“I love you.” He breathes out before turning onto his back and pulling you closer to him in one swift movement.
“I love you.” You say again, as if saying it a million more times will make time stop or make Kostas stay.
“I love you.” He repeats once for you and then again for himself. “I love you.”
You mouth his words along with him, tasting each consonant and vowel like it is your last meal on earth. Sweet and sticky and poisonous.
You turn onto your stomach and place your chin on his chest, looking him in the eyes. You watch as he meets your eyes. He looks well rested, not a sight you see often, the traces of his insomnia only a long forgotten ghost edged into the smallest details of his features. Something only someone who knows his face better than their own hand would notice. You mentally count the hours that separate this moment from when you would be able to lay like this again. To look at him and touch him and kiss him.
“What are you thinking about?” you hum, a desperate attempt to not worry about the number in your head.
“How pretty your eyes are…” he says softly, like he is too scared to startle some cosmic entity.
As if on cue the alarm goes off again and the magic is lost, reality once again rearing its ugly head. You clutch onto him like a person drowning would to a life raft. Your eyes begin to sting and your heart speeds up and the man below you begins to move. The feeling of everything crumbling around you sets in.
“Don't go yet!” You plead.
“I have to…” He says in a defeated voice, the sense of duty battling his love for you behind his eyes.
“Don't go yet!” you cry out against the skin of his chest. You know you are acting like a child but you want to prolong this as long as possible.“I know you have to go… just not yet!”
“Okay,” he stops moving and settles against the pillow. You both know you can steal each other only for a brief moment, to make the fantasy last only a few breaths longer.
“Okay." You lay your head on his chest counting the beats of his heart, mentally making sure he's real.
You almost keel over when you see the way his face grimaces as he stands in the doorway of your apartment, bags in hand, after hugging the dogs. You take his hand as if it is some kind of consolation prize, a kind of “you can't stay, so here hold my hand.” He takes it, squeezing lightly. You don't speak, there is nothing that you could say that would salvage the situation. Kostas pulls you towards him, pressing your lips against his. When he finally moves backward out the door, your fingers touch until he's out of your grasp. You never were good at goodbyes, even if by now you should be used to them.
The door closes behind him and he's gone. You are left alone. You lean your back against the door and your body loses control. Tears stream down your cheeks and your breath hitches with sobs. You run your hands through your hair trying to calm down, to ground yourself. Both Maui and Fuerte refuse to leave your side until your sobs calm and you are left helpless and alone.
Only a few weeks, not even a month. And you will talk on facetime every night.You can do this.
Your phone beeps with a text from Kostas:
“I love you❤️”
The game ends and you run to him as fast as your feet can carry you. The only thing you can think about is how much you want to be in Kostas' arms and how if you don't run fast enough he might somehow vanish. He spots you and his arms fly open instantly. Nothing around you matters to him anymore. The sadness from the loss is gone from his mind, replaced by the need to hold you.
You collide and he nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your smell, his lips kissing your neck.
“Kosti!” you cry out, tears on your cheeks. “Finally!” “Finally! Every “I miss you” and “I love you” and “The moon does not hold a candle to you.” and “You are the reason I believe that the Gods might fall in love with mortals.” does not feel worthy enough to express how much longing I have felt for you. Every minute and every breath we have been apart” he speaks into your shoulder, the smell of grass and sweat mixing with the scent of the summer evening air and your tears.
