“No. It’s not.”
“How would you know?”
“Because if these necklaces represent their owners, then yours must stand for hope and light rather than death and struggle, don’t you think?”
Kallias’ eyes pierce through him when their gazes meet again. “You don’t know me, Alexander. And I don’t know you. What I do know, though, is whatever you think you see in me? Whatever good, whatever hope, whatever joy. It’s not really there. Just a trick of your sunburst’s light.” He flicks Alexander’s pendant.
“I do know you,” Alexander insists.
Kallias laughs sharply. “No, you don’t.”
“Of course I do,” he argues. “How else would I know that I—”
Oh.
He stops himself.
Oh, God.
Kallias squints at him. “Know what?” he asks, his voice hollow.
That I love you.
That’s what he was going to say, wasn’t it?
He turns his head to Kallias, and it strikes him, for the millionth time, how beautiful he is.
I love him.
Alexander has never known anyone like this. His breath speeds, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Know what?” Kallias whispers. Not hollow now. No. Filled with… something. Alexander can’t name what it is.
“I— I forgot.”
Not true.
Kallias releases a breath either in relief or disappointment, Alexander isn’t sure.
He feels his anxiety fading, but whatever just shifted in him—that won’t ever fade.
“I don’t need to know you, Kallias. Anyone can see how brightly you shine.”
Kallias lightly shakes his head. “You don’t have to take my word for it. You’ll realize soon enough.”
The words sound like a threat, but the way Kallias says them isn’t scary. It’s just sad.
They both turn back to the ceiling and Alexander sighs. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it still makes him restless.
Kallias breaks it. “That star up there has been around since the universe was formed. Some even say before,” he says, pointing up at the fresco. It’s an apology, Alexander thinks. An olive branch.
Alexander smiles, shaking off the sadness. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Tell me more, starboy,” he jokes, expecting a scowl in return, but Kallias just smiles softly and continues on, pointing out stars and constellations and rattling off fun facts like they’re all he’s ever known. He talks for hours, and Alexander hangs on every word.
The more Kallias talks, the further he falls, and the more he realizes how deep he was already.