It's strange how after all that, we are strangers again. Patroclus thinks as he watches Achilles flirt with a customer.
He's cute, he guesses. Dimples, black hair in braids, and brown eyes. The boy laugh and bites on his lip, peering up to look up at Achilles shyly and Patrolus feels sick.
He used to look at Achilles that way, used to laugh just for his warrior. Not anymore, probably not again.
It's not Achilles' fault that he doesn't remember their time together in Greece.
(How they memorized each other's bodies with hesitant hands and soft kisses. How they lived and died for each other. )
He shouldn't blame Achilles for not remembering, but by the gods he does.
Patroclus watches as Achcilles winks with the boy (he loathes him and desperately wishes to be him) and slides his number across the counter.
The boy blushes, pockets the number and gives Achilles a sultry look before sauntering out of the coffee shop. Achilles watches until the boy is out of sight and smiles to himself.
Patroclus doesn't realize he's crying until the tears start dripping on the Starbucks cup he's holding.
(He never thought that being forgotten wold hurt so damn much. Gods, all he wants is Achilles. He wants his heart back.)
Patroclus takes a shaky breath and carefully places the cup down, trying his hardest not to break down. He forces himself to breathe in and out, despite the fact each breath feels like a stab in the chest.
He never knew that living without Achilles' love would be so hard.
"Are you okay?" a voice like warm honey and figs asks.
Patroclus doesn't dare to meet Achilles's eyes and relaxes when Achilles puts his hands on the small of his back and guides him into the privacy of the kitchen.
The minute the doors close, Patroclus straightens and backs away from Achilles. He knows if Achilles touched him for a second longer, he'd confess everything and beg for the once-prince to remember him.
"I'm fine," Patroclus mutters, his trembling hands and cracking voice telling the truth.
He glances up to see a pained look cross Achilles's face and his co-workers eyes hold his.
He can't look away, never could. The moment he met Achilles's eyes, Patroclus was trapped.
"Patroclus," Achilles starts.
("Pa-tro-clus. I love you." Fuck, do the gods really hate him so much? He can't-. Achilles treats him like just another stranger, but says his name like a lover and he's so confused. What's so wrong with wanting his lungs, his heart back?)
"You can tell me if something is wrong," Achilles says softly, stepping closer until they're only a few inches apart and all Patroclus has to do is get on his tip-toes, close the distance…
He can't of course, could never hurt Achilles like that. Instead, he swallows the ache, the want down and steps back.
"I'm fine Achilles," Patroclus mutters.
(""This heart; it beats, beats for only you. This heart, it is yours my love." Is what he wants to say, but like he forces the words down.)
Achilles frowns and moves as if to wrap Patroclus in a hug, but decides against it.
"If you say so, Patroclus. I'll tell Briseis you aren't feeling well and you can rest a bit in the kitchen," Achilles sighs before turning to go back to the counter.
Patroclus half-expects him to look back, but he doesn't and the metal doors close behind him.
Patroclus sinks to the floor, body shaking with silent sobs and he can hardly see for the the tears blurring his vision.
He never thought being forgotten would hurt so much. Never thought that after all they went through, they'd be strangers again.
Patroclus breaks on the grimy floor of a cafe in an era that is not his own. He breaks over and over again, damning the gods when each breath feels like a stab in the chest.
To Achilles, he is just another stranger.
(It's strange. Achilles never stopped being his universe.)