This is not my fault....
This is Classical Mythology's fault. It's now got a plotbunny into my head about an entire novel with Greek gods as reincarnated kids and going to high school. Zeus is Zackary, the school's manslut, with Hera as Hannah, his jealous girlfriend. And so on and so forth.
And now I have Alexei (Apollo) and Henry (Hyacinth) in my head. *glares at my 500-word drabble*
The first time he sees Alexei Asimov, Henry is flat on his back, trying to convince his eyes to focus and his consciousness not to slip away. Henry’s only just started school here five minutes ago, and has just announced his presence by slipping on a rain-slick patch and tumbling down the stairs.
He’s fairly certain that he has a concussion, judging from the nausea that is beginning to contort his stomach and the fact that everything feels dulled and distant.
“Are you all right?”
The voice comes from above him, filled with concern and colored by an accent Henry can’t quite name. He squints, and finally his vision starts to clear. Another boy hovers over him, placing himself between Henry and the sun, so that his face is shadowed and there is a halo of saffron brightness around his head.
“Are you all right?” the other boy repeats, and it’s only then that Henry realizes he’s staring, trying to make out the stranger’s shadowed features.
“I….” His head is pounding, like someone has found a tiny hammer and is tapping on the inside of his skull, and he winces. “Hit my head.” He tries to sit up, but immediately everything tilts, and it’s only once the other boy grabs his shoulders that he realizes he was about to lose consciousness.
“I’m Alexei. Just stay still. My sister is getting the nurse.” The other boy’s voice is quiet and almost grave, an adult, world-weary voice that doesn’t seem to suit him, and this time when Henry squints, his eyes have adjusted enough so that he can finally makes out Alexei’s features.
He is taken aback by the boy’s beauty. Alexei has eyes that are like blue crystal, with a soft, sensitive mouth and delicate features that are almost feminine. His hair, a wild mess of cropped golden curls, look as soft as silk, and Henry has the sudden wild urge to reach up and see if the strands are as silky as they look.
The fall must have rattled the common sense portion of Henry’s brain, however, because his lips part on their own, and he hears himself breathe, something akin to awe coloring each syllable, “My god, you’re beautiful.”
Alexei looks startled, and his hands tighten almost painfully on Henry’s shoulders. “What?”
Henry has to resist the urge to laugh or cry, and makes a noise that’s somewhere between the two. Only a few minutes into a new school, and he’s already sexually harassed someone. This was perfect. “I…my head….”
And some higher being has apparently taken pity on him, because he closes his eyes briefly to gather his dizzied wits and when he opens them, a woman in white is leaning over him and saying in a brisk, professional tone, “Looks like you might have a concussion, kiddo. We’ve called the paramedics. They’ll be here soon.”
Henry just closes his eyes, knowing that the beautiful blond boy is nowhere nearby, having probably fled the scene as soon as he could, and that people are no doubt already gossiping about the queer who hit on Alexei.
He hates high school.
And now I have Alexei (Apollo) and Henry (Hyacinth) in my head. *glares at my 500-word drabble*
The first time he sees Alexei Asimov, Henry is flat on his back, trying to convince his eyes to focus and his consciousness not to slip away. Henry’s only just started school here five minutes ago, and has just announced his presence by slipping on a rain-slick patch and tumbling down the stairs.
He’s fairly certain that he has a concussion, judging from the nausea that is beginning to contort his stomach and the fact that everything feels dulled and distant.
“Are you all right?”
The voice comes from above him, filled with concern and colored by an accent Henry can’t quite name. He squints, and finally his vision starts to clear. Another boy hovers over him, placing himself between Henry and the sun, so that his face is shadowed and there is a halo of saffron brightness around his head.
“Are you all right?” the other boy repeats, and it’s only then that Henry realizes he’s staring, trying to make out the stranger’s shadowed features.
“I….” His head is pounding, like someone has found a tiny hammer and is tapping on the inside of his skull, and he winces. “Hit my head.” He tries to sit up, but immediately everything tilts, and it’s only once the other boy grabs his shoulders that he realizes he was about to lose consciousness.
“I’m Alexei. Just stay still. My sister is getting the nurse.” The other boy’s voice is quiet and almost grave, an adult, world-weary voice that doesn’t seem to suit him, and this time when Henry squints, his eyes have adjusted enough so that he can finally makes out Alexei’s features.
He is taken aback by the boy’s beauty. Alexei has eyes that are like blue crystal, with a soft, sensitive mouth and delicate features that are almost feminine. His hair, a wild mess of cropped golden curls, look as soft as silk, and Henry has the sudden wild urge to reach up and see if the strands are as silky as they look.
The fall must have rattled the common sense portion of Henry’s brain, however, because his lips part on their own, and he hears himself breathe, something akin to awe coloring each syllable, “My god, you’re beautiful.”
Alexei looks startled, and his hands tighten almost painfully on Henry’s shoulders. “What?”
Henry has to resist the urge to laugh or cry, and makes a noise that’s somewhere between the two. Only a few minutes into a new school, and he’s already sexually harassed someone. This was perfect. “I…my head….”
And some higher being has apparently taken pity on him, because he closes his eyes briefly to gather his dizzied wits and when he opens them, a woman in white is leaning over him and saying in a brisk, professional tone, “Looks like you might have a concussion, kiddo. We’ve called the paramedics. They’ll be here soon.”
Henry just closes his eyes, knowing that the beautiful blond boy is nowhere nearby, having probably fled the scene as soon as he could, and that people are no doubt already gossiping about the queer who hit on Alexei.
He hates high school.