Quiet Waves and Locusts (1/2)

After Jules, Aestos had also left that morning. I was shameless in asking him to stay in my company, but he had insisted on reinforcing the city walls to ensure no beasts came through them. He was honorable and loyal to duty even now.

I knew I could not be selfish with him.

But I was lonely once he left. Inky solitude filled wherever I was hollow and blackened whatever it touched. I had found escape in my community, helping them settle into their new houses. I clumsily moved solid crates of supplies the prince had gifted us. And dusted the interiors of homes built months ago but not yet lived in. When I was needed to knot ropes to hang our washed clothing, my fingers twitched awkwardly. Cramping in some areas and refusing to bend in others.

Exhaustion rediscovered me by the end of the day, and I dreaded the calluses I would eventually develop with this sort of ordinary labor.

My people—they were not solely mine anymore—lost their energy toward the night's beginning. We piled into the relationship of three yards and conversed lazily around open fires. I held the children whom sleep had already taken, offering both arms for rest and my lap for the youngest girl of us. She was only three.

Those who were awake tiredly sipped broth a few elders had prepared, and we retreated into our own houses once words became slurred and thoughts too difficult to process. I had not sung to any of them. It felt odd. Unusual and unwelcoming to be among them and not provide my voice or simple music. The youngest children had not understood when I told them I would keep these wonderful things a secret, but they accepted this difficult truth with the promise I would find a way to play music for them tomorrow.

As the night deepened, the sky resembled more of an ink spill. With opaque stars splattered like paint across a dyed canvas. I waited near the single window by my door, viewing the wandering people who passed by. Less than an hour later, I noticed Aestos dusting himself off. I opened the door before he could knock.

He was pungent smelling. Fragrant in the way that his scent would transfer to my own clothing and skin when I touched him. He smelled typically of ginger and forest. And sweeter than I was used to, like ripe fruit and sweat. 

Even in the dark, I noticed his exhaustion.

I stepped out of his way. "Come inside and rest, friend."

Aestos retreated from the doorway, standing in the direct spilling of moonlight on the near-empty street. "I want to take you somewhere."

Want. He wanted something from me and knew to ask for it, so I followed him blindly. I came to realize that if it was something Aestos asked for, I would not question giving it to him.

We wandered south, where forests thrived and houses were few, swallowed by the greed of branches and twisting vines. It took us an hour to reach this point. Even as tired as I was, I did not mind it. I enjoyed the quiet with Aestos.

Eventually, the trees opened, and we were at a clearing where an indulgent lake sat. Substantially sized and like a bath of shimmering metals. Aestos let the satchel he had been carrying roll off his shoulder.

I grinned at him, already tugging my tunic over my head. "This is romantic, Aestos. You calling me alone for a swim."

"Romantic?" He was pulling off his clothes, and I was glad he was unashamed to show his nakedness to me.

"Affection," I clarified, because that was a word he had grown to understand.

I was fully bare when I raced into the cool water, welcoming the splashes and noise of my joy.

The water was draped in molten moonlight. I could not even see my hand beneath the surface. Aestos slipped quietly into the water, composed and discreet with his glee. I would not allow him to be silent for long.

I smiled at him. The water seemed to rise even further, resting just below where our chests were full. "When did you discover this place?" I asked.

A rich smile froze his lips. Aestos was delighted to please me. "Do you like it?"

I nodded eagerly like a child would. "It is lovely. The forest is calm, and this water is cool." I sent a quiet splash his way and chuckled when he flinched. "I could spend all night here."

"We can if you'd like."

"Would you stay out here with me?"

Aestos looked off, genuine calm affecting his expression. "I would stay anywhere with you."

That familiar warmth spread through my chest. Dense like oil and sweet like honey. Aestos continued to look off, ruminating until his smile fell.

The change was as drastic as the changing seasons. I wanted him to rely on me whenever he was troubled. "Tell me what is on your mind, friend."

"I—" He hesitated to speak. To recognize me.

My hands found his face naturally, and I had him look at me to remind him. We are friends. There is no such thing as shame between us.

Aestos wrapped a tentative hand around my wrist, and I discovered the vulnerability in his bones. "I am worried."

I was surprised by this response, but I knew even a man as wonderful as Aestos could be afraid. "Tell me what worries you."

"I have not cherished much in my life," he said slowly. This was difficult for him to admit. "Until you, every day that I lived felt like an obligation. There was no warmth in them, not like the warmth you've placed in me. I am worried that this feeling of enjoyment will eventually be taken from me."

I thought I could not have gone any softer for him, but my heart was creative. It discovered how to melt from the impact of Aestos' vulnerability.

"You are very honest, friend. And that is an ordinary fear. No one desires to lose what they love, but you cannot proceed each new day in fear. You must always cherish what you have each moment you are alive." My fingers moved on their own across his skin. "Cherish my people and me, who bring you joy. Allow us to welcome you because you have done the same for them. For me."

Aestos' eyes rushed between mine. Perpetually curious about me. About my affection and words, which were new to him. His smile was filled with delight. "Your words are inspiring. I do not always know how to respond to them."

I chuckled warmly. "Your listening is enough. You are very wonderful, Aestos. I am fortunate to have you as my friend."

I intended to stroke his hair, but my blunt nails caught in the knots at his roots. His hair, it was vibrant and wild and wonderful. It was also very tangled.

So, I laughed. "Aestos, do you not know that even you must brush your hair? Is the length of it too difficult for you to maintain?"

His expression was confused, and he retrieved the soaked ends of his hair from the water. "What is wrong with it?"

Maybe he had not been taught how to groom himself, although he knew to bathe and which areas to shave. But too often, I would discover something like lint or food on his face that he hadn't noticed, and I would brush it away for him. It was something I wondered about. Did he ever look at his reflection?

"Friend, do you know what you look like?"

Aestos sent me an inquisitive look, and I could not acknowledge the monument of my surprise. My friend, strange and curious and magnificent, indeed had not known the color of his own eyes. 

I stole his hand beneath the water. "Let me show you, because you are beautiful."

He knew to be bashful when I slid his own fingers over his skin. And his eyes were too shy not to flicker and run. I smiled. Adoring him.

"You have full brows that rest closely above your eyes." I let his fingers brush over the fine hairs. Then I lowered his hand. "Your eyes are green like the forest you lived in and foxlike. Ethereal. Do you know the word?"

"No," he answered simply. Unashamed this was something else he did not know. He knew I would teach him.

"It means you are beautiful," I reiterated. My words were too quiet for my own ears, but Aestos heard them.

And he smiled.