#source. [ h.sr xover. ]

[resolutepath]

[ pat, for achi ] “Do you want to go back to sleep, or shall I make you a cup of tea?”

"...tea, if you don't mind. I won't sleep again."

It is still strange, occupying the same space as Patroclus, but not unwanted. Achilles had, after all, spent the time since they parted on an excursion of grief, roaming the cosmos for any sign that he might find his lover again, so to be by his side now has not yet become comfortable. He'd only been here because they had spoken for long enough for the light to wane and the night to arrive, offered space to rest rather than trekking back to the Silvermane barracks where he had been put up by the captain.

He rises from sweat ridden sheets and pushes his hair off his face, rubbing palms against eyes as if it might ease the fitful pace of his heart. It's his penance, he knows, the consequences of his own actions, but it does not make it any easier to see his face in his sleep, to be reminded of all the terrible things he had done. The desecration and destruction that he had left in his wake, wishing the world would be left in ashes so he might feel comfortable standing upon it again.

"Did I wake you?" he asks, softly, his words only emphasising how drained he felt, the tone depleted of all lustre, more so than usual. Was I screaming? Is the question he wants to ask but refrains. Sometimes it is best to not know what words fell from his lips in his sleep. He's certain that some of them might undo the tentative repairs that have been made between them otherwise.

He drops his hands then, making himself move, if only to distract himself from what he had seen, even if all he desires to do is fall back into the sheets and bury himself away. A pace he starts up, counting each step in his head, only pausing when he sees the other holding the steaming cup out as an offering.

#caemthe #muses. [ achilles. ] #source. [ f.go. ] #source. [ h.sr xover. ] #bond. [ caemthe; patroclus / i’ve been cold since you left; make me feel like i am breathing. ] #( he was in fact screaming and begging in his sleep ) #queue. [ stars hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desires. ]