When they say someone's smile is as bright as the sun, they're going for the wrong simile. Why compare a smile to a distant god when you've got a perfectly divine human? His company was somehow uplifting yet grounding at the same time. With him, I could forget my various duties of being the god of the sun, poetry, archery, medicine and things I can't even remember. His presence made me remember the part of me that isn't a cold, unlikable god. We were just two boys so deeply in love with each other that it seemed to seep into our surroundings, nurturing everything soft and sweet and beautiful.
His beautiful dark hair was tangled around my fingers, as it usually was. Those soft locks were unlike anything I'd ever seen, though dark hair was common in our people. The first time he'd let me touch his hair, I was so awestruck that my mind just managed to provide one sentence- "It is like the petals of a hundred divine flowers" before it deserted me, leaving me to marvel at his beauty in silence. Since then I'd learnt that everything about him was common, and yet not so. Under the slightly defined muscles, the soft features of his face, the brown eyes and wavy brown hair was something unique to him. I could study it for ages and never understand what that was. It was purely Hyacinthus. That was his name. A beautiful name for a beautiful boy.
His face was softly illuminated in the afternoon sunlight, making his flawless skin glow like burnished copper. His eyes were closed in concentration, humming something in his deep melodious voice. I was lost in those soft floating notes that blended so well with the pensive surroundings. He had a way with nature and his voice now seemed to coax them into blooming and flourishing, swaying to the tunes as though a gentle wind was caressing them. A soft fragrance surrounded us, born of the tune so passionate and longing. The look of bliss on his face as he hummed made me oddly jealous; I had only ever imagined that expression on him. What was he singing that gave him so much pleasure? The jealousy reminded me of Zephyros the wind god, who was smitten with my Hyacinthus.
The tension was strong and bitter, two gods fighting over a mortal's love. And yet, what else could immortals do to waste the endless time they'd been cursed with? How much time could they spend on entertaining themselves with their instruments and voices and stories? Why would they, when their human pets were better to toy with? "Hyacinthus, isn't that his name? I wouldn't mind having him, you know? Those pretty features are rather tempting", Zephyros said, smirking at me. How dare he? Sure, I pursue a lot of people. A lot of wrong people too. Sometimes I want them for the wrong reasons, which then pushes them to extreme actions. The anguished face of Daphne as she turned into a tree, floats in my vision just as i almost decided to smite Zephyros. And then I realize that this is competition to win the affection of a mortal, to try and make eachother lose control. I couldn't let him make me look terrible and steal away Hyacinthus. I glare at him, almost catching fire at the rage boiling inside me. His stood still, bold as always. The only change was his expression, subtly changing to a smirk of triumph.
But the peaceful silence calls be back to the present, to my beautiful Hyacinthus. He stopped humming, instead choosing to stare at me. "What do you think", he asks. About what? The humming? What do I care, anything he does makes my heart swoon. I lean down and gently press a kiss to his soft lips, as chaste as I could manage. He flushes, stuttering out "that's not the answer". I smile and lean lower, pressing kisses to his neck, his collarbones, his shoulders. Everything stills then, as I stop and watch him. "I want to worship you", I admit. It makes me nervous but its true, he's fit to be a god, one of the few better ones unlike depraved olympians like me.
He smiles then, and it blooms something magical in my heart, making everything brighter, more joyful. He never replies to these things, but he loves being appreciated. He lets me worship him in my own way then, letting my fingers trace his body, showering me with kisses as I caress his strong knuckles with my dainty fingers. The giddy smiles soon turn into laughter. His voice, turned high with joy echoes around and I don't think I will ever be this truly happy. My mind already composing a romantic lyric for us, I ask if he wants to play. We settle with our classic disk throw, the slight windy weather being perfect for it. Our throws and catches are near perfect, and his face has a smug grin, trying to trick me into losing.
The joy of being in his presence, the joy of knowing that I make him happy, it all overwhelms me. I barely grab hold of the flying disk in time and send it back, almost at the same momentum.
The wind turns violent almost immediately, flowing west at a frightening pace and taking the disk with it. Hyacinthus has a second of time, his face showing shock and confusion and fear. Then the disk embeds into his head, his life's force draining away faster than I could react.
I feel numb, as though it was my consciousness flowing away with each weak pulse of his heart. In that moment, I forget everything about healing and medicine and the things I should be God of. I am engulfed in shock and grief, stumbling towards his fallen being. I cradle his head in my hands, resting it gently on my thigh. How similar it was to a few hours ago, when he was in the same position but full of life and joy. My heart squeezes painfully as I lower my forehead to his. The tears mingle with his blood, flowing faster than ever. The volatile winds whistle through the trees, sounding eerily like laughter. And that's when I realize. The stillness, the sudden stormlike winds. West winds. A scream tears out of me, filled with rage and anguish and helplessness. I wish I could curse Zephyros, punish him, make him feel a fraction of the agony I had. But I had no right. The guilt has settled in, a part of me saying it was my fault. I had been happy to the point of delirium, throwing the disk so carelessly. I realized that this was Zephyr's revenge; I would forever wonder if it was his jealousy or my carelessness that caused the death of my beloved hyacinthus.
All I can feel through the numbness is the of times he would weave a flower crown and tuck it into my hair, his cool fingers grazing my earlobes and sending tingles all the way down my spine. And then, the moment of quiet, when it felt like everything ceased to exist apart from his wondrous gaze and his sweet smile. A moment when I felt like I could lean into his lithe frame and just hold him close to me, tell him exactly how precious he was to me. I'd want to confide in him, of how he had my heart racing, how I'd like to spend the rest of my immortal life beside him, of the stupid rage I felt when Zephyros so much as looked at him. But he would pull away from me, looking completely at peace and humming the piece I'd played for him. I didn't have the heart to destroy the idyll that came with his presence. Perhaps another time, I'd convince myself each time.
And now, another time would be never again. There would be no one like him, even though i saw him in everyone. My heart lurches painfully as I keenly watch his features one last time through my tears.
His eyes were still open, widened in shock. I close them with my shaky fingers hoping he'd forgive me. It was all my fault and now, I'd lost another love to death. His sharp nose, the perfect cupid's bow of his lips. The soft plump lower lip. His tanned olive complexion. I hope I'd memorized it well enough to recognize blind, even if I would never be in a situation to do that anymore. His hands in mine are turning stiff and cold and at that moment, I feel ready to do anything to lay beside him, to get rid of my cursed immortality. I run my fingers through his hair, softly tousled by the wind. My head hurts with agony at the thick wavy texture that I'd never forget. It made me sick to see half of it soaked in his blood. I give his forehead one last kiss, pushing away the hair that had flown all over his face.
I haven't ever felt this helpless, and I desperately try to heal him. I place my hands on his chest, over the one spot of lingering warmth and wish with all my heart for his presence, for just another moment to make one last memory of him. His body grows bright, almost blinding me with hope, and then disintegrates into a thousand saplings. I feel crushed and lay in the midst of the field, unable to look at look at them, to face my disappointment. I lay there, weeping till the soil grew wet and dark with the tears of my grief. I did not notice the plants grow all around me, raising as though they have been sprinkled with ambrosia. I only watch as they grow buds in a canopy above me. I watch them bloom into little flowers in a hundred different shades of sunsets I had watched with my precious Hyacinthus.
"Like the petals of a hundred divine flowers" I remember thinking about his hair. Everything feels hollow as the words echo through me. He wouldn't return to me, but I had retained some of his essence with me, in these wonderful flowers. Their texture almost mimicked his hair, the softness of the velvety petals slipping through my fingers. Somehow their fragrance calms me down; or maybe it's the lingering presence of him, among those soft flowers. All I can do anymore is to whisper his name to those beautiful flowers, teach them of his identity, his beauty and my love for him. Hyacinth, I name them, already fond of them. The remembrance of a beautiful boy with a beautiful name.
~VN
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