Short and simple. All standard disclaimers apply. Enjoy!
XxX
When he was younger, Zelos thought he knew everything. About people in particular, their mannerisms, their predictability, and the limits to which he could use them for his own gain. Of course, no one knew everything, and once in awhile, someone would come along to prove to Zelos just that.
It was the summer just before his 18th birthday, and the church had assigned some new random instructor to better mold him into the image of noble perfection. Surprising at first to learn that it would be swordsmanship he'd be learning this time.
These lessons were a daily thing, and his teacher was always punctual. Though Zelos got the impression that if the man weren't committed by some higher force then he wouldn't bother with the Chosen at all. He said his name was Kratos, but he never gave a last name, or any other type of personal information for that matter.
Zelos hated his attitude. Hated the smug, superior way he carried himself and the passive, almost uninterested way he regarded Zelos during all their lessons. He didn't put up with any of Zelos' bullshit, and didn't treat him differently simply for being the Chosen. It was one of the few things Zelos liked about him.
And yet, there was a strange sort of contentment that he got out of it all. A feeling of relief that there was something, someone who would be there the next day, even it wasn't someone he would pick if given the choice. Permanent fixtures were a hard thing to come by in the life of Zelos Wilder, and for a time Kratos had managed to cement himself quite firmly. A pity that the man was as just cold and inflexible as that metaphor.
It wasn't love, it was desperation, Zelos knew this. Like a man stranded in the middle of an ocean, choking down bitter seawater in hopes of sustenance. But it was nice to pretend that perhaps he felt that way, back then. It might be a more understandable reason for the void he felt after the man had left. Maybe that's what he would tell people should he ever need to. Being in love was surely better than simply starving for attention, wasn't it?
Years later, when they would meet again, Kratos' eyes would pass over Zelos like he never knew him, and it wouldn't matter. Because Zelos had already learned all he needed to know. His swordsmanship could still use some work, though.