Indeed, he seemed utterly unaware of his effect on the boys around him.
Achilles weeps. He cradles me, and will not eat, nor speak a word other than my name.
Bury us, and mark our names above. Let us be free.
When I am dead, I charge you to mingle our ashes and bury us together.
Achilles’ eyes lift. They are bloodshot and dead. “I wish he had let you all die.
Patroclus, he says, Patroclus. Patroclus. Over and over until it is sound only.
For who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty?
