43. Alexander
ALEXANDER
Alexander very quickly decides that the Library is much cooler when one is drunk. The vaulted ceilings look impossibly taller, the blues seem immeasurably deeper, and the stars painted all over feel as if they might truly be dancing in the moonlight.
Kallias walks in before him, heading straight for their table at the end of the Library, and Alexander is powerless to do anything but watch him go. It feels sacrilegious to follow—the true personification of perfection is not to be sullied by the likes of him.
Additionally, Kallias has lost his linen shirt, which leaves him in a white tank that does fantastic things for his arms.
Kallias pushes himself up to sit on their table, legs wide enough for Alexander to stand between them, which simply cannot be accidental. They make eye contact and Kallias tilts his head expectantly, luring him in.
He lets Kallias’ magnetism consume him. Only once he arrives does Kallias lean back on his hands and look at him through shining lashes. Alexander can’t stop the words that come out of his mouth. He’s stupid, it’s fine.
“You’re perfect.”
Kallias turns away, but not enough to hide his blush.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Back to idiot, are we?”
Kallias meets his eyes, and God save him. Or perhaps, denounce him. Because Kallias is nothing if not a fallen angel, and Alexander would sell his soul to the devil to fall with him.
“I don’t even know anymore,” Kallias exhales, and it’s not a joke now.
The space between them is like a band pulled too taut.
Kallias sits up straight and they’re separated by centimeters, maybe less.
He lifts his head up so he’s looking down at Alexander with his lip between his teeth, lost in thought.
Alexander is pinned, a bug under his gaze. But that doesn’t stop him from raising a hand to Kallias’ neck, letting it rest there, and then moving a thumb to stroke his jaw.
For a moment it seems like Kallias is going to lean into it, let Alexander snake a hand around his waist and pull him in tight like he’s always wanted to. He almost can’t believe he’s only known Kallias for a few months. This longing feels eternal.
For a moment, he can feel the world righting itself. But it’s just a moment.
Kallias hitches a breath and pulls away from his touch, leaning back on his hands again, a self-deprecating smile on his lips like he’s mocking their near miss.
Alexander sighs at the return to normality. He knows this tension can’t last forever, but, God, when is it going to snap?
“You know what I was thinking?” he asks, because at this point, who cares anymore. His feelings have been obvious since day one.
“It better not be more about your opinions on the nickname ‘Alex.’”
Alexander laughs and shakes his head. “It’s not. Though I do have a lot more thoughts on that if you want to hear them—”
“I do not want to hear them.”
“Fine, whatever. Back to what I was thinking. I was thinking—”
Confidence is key, confidence is key, confidence is key.
“—you’d really like California. We could go there, you and me.”
Kallias slowly sits up straight again, which puts him back into kissing range, but the proximity isn’t charged like before. It’s their normal energy: pining and desperate, but not without hope.
“What does that mean?”
“California. It’s a collection of islands off the west coast of America.
Well, it’s not America… Ivi Maraei and the Holy American Empire fought over it for centuries.
Thankfully for my brother, they both surrendered the territory to the indigenous community on the land years ago.
The Ivi Maraei army is ten times better and their people are a hundred times wealthier. If there was a war we would have lost.”
“Okay,” Kallias says, clearly lost in his search for the point of all of this. “And for us?”
“Well, it’s always warm there. And we could live by the beach. And everyone’s nice and they leave you alone if you want to be alone. We could build the house together, though I don’t know anything about building so we might have to ask for Ophelia’s help. We could also…”
He trails off when Kallias’ head drops down so his forehead is resting on Alexander’s shoulder. His whole being comes apart at the touch, but he doesn’t move or speak. He can’t scare Kallias away.
“California?” Kallias asks.
Alexander smiles like a fool. “California. Like I said, it’s warm, which you clearly need because—” He rests his hand on the back of Kallias’ neck “—you’re freezing.”
Kallias hums in agreement and the sound reminds him that he’s created another point of contact and Kallias hasn’t pushed him away. His hand wanders into Kallias’ hair and, Christ, it’s so soft.
“What else?”
“We could get pets. There’s lots of space for them to play.”
“Let me guess, you want a giant, slobbering dog that can, like, run with you on the beach or something dumb.”
Alexander barks a laugh. “Nah, I’ve always wanted one of those runty dogs that are kind of ugly but no one will admit it.”
Kallias huffs and Alexander feels the heat of it on his skin. “What would you name it?”
“Something threatening.”
“Hippolyta?”
“Yes! Hippolyta. That’s my dog. And you want a cat, don’t you? You would.”
“I’m allergic.”
“Then we’ll get you a hairless one. We can name it Adonis and then they’ll both have ironic names.”
Kallias gasps and his head pops up from Alexander’s shoulder. “It wouldn’t be ironic. Our cat would be beautiful, hair or not.”
Alexander bites his lip to hold back his grin, and watches his hand continue to sift through what might as well be molten gold. “Whatever you say, gorgeous.”
Kallias leans into the touch so slowly that Alexander isn’t sure he even knows he’s doing it. “I hope you get that. The life you want.”
“We will,” he corrects, moving forward and pulling Kallias to meet him until their foreheads are touching. He feels Kallias’ hand sneak up to his jaw.
He isn’t sure how long they stay like that before Kallias whispers, “I’m tired.”
With effort, Alexander pulls back, earning a scowl.
“Just wait one second.” He smiles, rolling his eyes. He runs to drag the beanbags over, then climbs up for two blankets from the top shelf.
When he gets back Kallias is staring aimlessly into the stacks, eyes unfocused and arms crossed. “Come on,” he says, shepherding Kallias by the collar to their makeshift beds. And if the beanbags are pulled so close they’re touching, well, Kallias doesn’t comment on it.
Kallias tilts his head at the setup, so Alexander clarifies, “I didn’t think I was going to make it up the stairs, so I figured—”
“Smart.”
Kallias drops into one of the beanbags and pulls the blanket around himself in a burrito. Alexander falls into his own seconds after, but he can’t close his eyes because Kallias is watching him softly, and looking away would be a sin.
“I’m still cold,” Kallias complains, because of course he does, and despite there being a million different options, the only thing Alexander can think of to do is lift his own blanket in invitation.
When Kallias doesn’t respond, he plays it off with a shrug. “Body heat.”
Kallias hums and scooches over. By body heat, Alexander meant sharing a blanket and keeping his hands to himself because he doesn’t want to make Kallias uncomfortable.
But once Kallias gets close, Alexander’s fingers move without instruction, reaching for his hair to push it out of his face. Kallias shuts his eyes and his lip tightens in the corner.
When they flutter open again Alexander could swear they’re shining. Kallias laughs sadly at himself, shaking his head, and Alexander doesn’t know what it means.
“Kallias—”
“Not tonight,” he says roughly. “Tonight can we just…”
He shakes his head again before inching closer.
“Just what?” Alexander asks.
Kallias leans in, shifting until he’s comfortable, his head resting in between Alexander’s neck and shoulder, his hand gentle on Alexander’s waist.
“Just stay like this,” he finally murmurs.
Alexander’s body responds reflexively, his arms holding Kallias as if he’ll never get to again.
“Sure, minha estrela. Whatever you want.” The pet name slips out without him even noticing, too focused on how perfectly Kallias’ body fits against his.
“What’s that?” Kallias whispers.
“It’s… it means star.”
“Just star?”
Alexander sighs, caught. “No. ‘Minha estrela’… My star.”
“Yours.”
Alexander could take it back, but selfishly, he doesn’t want to. So he says, “Mine.”
“For as long as you’ll have me,” Kallias says and his breath against Alexander’s neck is a melody of its own.
“Eternamente, minha estrela. Forever.”
When Alexander wakes up, morning light streams through the Library’s window. He can tell by the shade of misty yellow that it’s still early, but he doesn’t try to go back to sleep. Neither does he get up.
He just stays where he is, keeping still so as not to disturb the beautiful boy in his arms. Kallias’ breath is warm against his skin where he’s curled into Alexander.
He sleeps kind of like a cat, Alexander notices; if Alexander weren’t in the way, he would probably be cuddled into a tight ball.
But instead his head is pressed into Alexander’s shoulder with a hand resting gently at the nape of Alexander’s neck and a leg draped casually over Alexander’s hip.
He could stay here forever, he decides as he softly, softly strokes through Kallias’ hair. He’s beginning to think that’s what his hands were made for.
Then heir alarms go off and remind him that he doesn’t have that luxury. Zeno was weirdly strict about getting up when the sun did—something about staying under the radar—and Alexander deeply begrudges him for it.
He shifts away to shut his ring off. In response, Kallias makes an unbearably adorable huff of discontent and pulls him back. Alexander smiles wider than he ever has.
“We’ve gotta get up, minha estrela,” he whispers, sliding down so their faces are level. Kallias scowls at him.
“Not a chance,” he mumbles.
Dear God, early morning Kallias may be the sweetest thing in the world. Alexander is helpless to him.
Kallias cracks an eye open in acquiescence, but still doesn’t return to himself. “Five minutes?” he asks, and Alexander has to suppress the butterflies in his stomach.
Is this how Kallias would be if he weren’t forced to build his walls up so high? Is this how he’ll end up, after enough time in California, relaxing on the shore?
“Just five,” Alexander says.
After what is definitely longer than five minutes, Alexander has to force himself to sit up, dragging Kallias with him.
Kallias groans in annoyance, but Alexander can see his eyes clearing—his aloof walls resurfacing.
And with the mask back on, Alexander can also see clearer what it’s hiding.
Something too tender and sad for him to name.
“What’s the matter, gorgeous?”
Kallias doesn’t respond, but his brows come together like he’s weighing options, trying to decide what he wants to say. In the end he doesn’t say anything at all. He stands and reaches a hand down for Alexander.
When he takes it, Kallias drags him up and into an embrace so tight it almost feels like a goodbye.
“It’s going to be fine,” Alexander says to stop the dread creeping up on him. The sinking feeling isn’t new, he’s realizing. It’s been holding him captive for a while, bracing him for something. But now it’s screaming in his ears.
Kallias pulls back with a small, sad smile.
“Believe me, okay? It will be,” he repeats, this time with emphasis. Because it will be fine; Alexander will make it be.
“Okay,” Kallias replies.
“Here,” Alexander decides without really thinking about it as he pulls the signet ring off his pinky. “You take this and you can give it back to me on the boat. My father gave me this ring—it means everything to me—that’s how much I know that this will work out.”
“I’m not taking that, Alexander.”
“No. No, you need to understand that I’m sure,” he says, and he can imagine what his frantic energy looks like to Kallias. But he needs this reassurance. If Kallias has this ring it means that they will all make it out because they would have to.
“Keep your ring,” Kallias says, pushing his hand away.
“So you don’t think this plan is going to work?” Alexander lashes out.
“Don’t do that. That’s not fair,” Kallias argues.
“I need you to take it. Please, take it.”
He looks at the ring for a long moment, then up to Alexander with a weak exhale. And he’s looking, he’s really looking until, with a resigned sigh, he whispers, “Okay.”
“You’ll take it?”
“Yeah,” Kallias replies, removing his necklace and dropping Alexander’s ring onto the chain next to his amulet. “Happy now?” he asks.
Alexander nods. He likes the look of his ring around Kallias’ neck. And now he knows that everything will be fine because Kallias has no choice but to make it to the boat with that ring around his neck. And Alexander doesn’t have to dread anything because what is there to dread?