Epitaph, a saint seiya fanfic

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Disclaimer: I don't own Saint Seiya. I only own the plot.
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Milo/Camus
Warning: What if?, shounen-ai hints. This story contains male/male relationships, if you are disturbed by it, please refrain from reading.

EPITAPH

They're coming up.

I hear them.

They come up...

Their footsteps trample over my heart, echoing in my soul...

You're with them, I know. I can feel it...

I didn't think I should have done this.

I didn't think I would have lost you.

But it's happened, and it's torturing me.

I thought I had forgotten the pain.

I thought I had removed the memory of you.

But I was deluding myself, and I realize it only now, now that you're back here, and I'm going to lose you again.

And I find my thoughts racing fast, running through the moments of our youth, lingering on the days in which I had you by my side and we were so close.

Inseparable.

And my body trembles.

It trembles, and melts, because he recalls.

Remember, and still yearns; it remembers, and burns.

It remembers you.

It remembers us.

And I remember along with him, and I'm equally tormented, in my memories breathing in the scent of your hair against my skin, vivid and real as if I had you here, beside me.

And I cry.

I mourn my lost love.

And then I shout, I shout my despair at the sky and curse our pledge of fidelity, that made you betray Athena in order to come back to life... for me?

Maybe, I'm not sure.

And yet, this uncertainty it's torturing me.

Now, here, in front of your gravestone, I'm no longer sure of anything.

The thought that you might have betrayed Athena for me, makes me feel equally treacherous...

I thrust my fingers into the soil, the same soil that had covered your body, and that now is screaming, violated, its anger to the Gods.

I lay these trembling hands of mine on the stone of your gravestone, leaving fleeting imprints of my pain.

On my knees, I graze with my forehead the bare stone, letting the tears flow, allowing them to fall where once there was your body, atrocious testimony of the agony in which my soul is going through.

I will face the man who had been my lover.

I'll have to kill the one who had been everything to me.

I graze with my fingers the letters composing your name, engraved on the stone slab; I get up, turning my back to the gravestone, and I walk, head up, to meet my ungrateful fate.

It will happen soon.

The one I love will have to die again, and this time it will be by my hand.

Or perhaps, more simply, tomorrow there will be another gravestone beside this one.

And finally we will be together again.

"Milo." I hear a voice behind me, pronouncing my name.
I turn: Aioria.

He went to meet me.

"Are you ready?" Aioria asks, with a conscious light in his eyes.

I nod.

"Let's go." I answer simply, following him.

Soon, Camus, very soon we'll meet again.

Wait for me.

We will write our epitaph together.