"Stay the night." Achilles says suddenly. We've spent the past half hour simply talking (and shyly kissing, occasionally), but everything feels so much more intimate now. The awkwardness hasn't completely gone; I'm still a mess, and Achilles is too, but we're sitting closer together and studying has been completely forgotten. I'm pretty sure it was actually just an excuse to get me to come here tonight, and I'm glad for it.

I look at Achilles questioning look, surprised by the sudden statement. "Please?" He asks.

"I..." To my surprise, I realise that I actually want to. "I can't." I sigh. "My parents will expect me home. I'm already late." I don't make any move to leave, though.

"You could call Briseis." Achilles says. "She can tell your parents."

"But I need to walk her home..."

"Can she walk home herself?"

"I guess." I nod. "I mean, she'll be okay! It's not that dark outside, and nothing will happen anyway."

"Yeah." Achilles agrees.

"Okay."

I pull out my phone, then swear. "Damnit, it's out of charge. I mustn't have charged it last night." I groan.

"It's okay, use mine." Achilles hands me his phone. It's a newer model than mine, so I can't even charge mine using his charger.

I call Brie, who has just left school, and ask her to tell my dad that I'm staying at Achilles. I know a few of the words in Greek, but most of it is just simplified English. When I'm certain Briseis understands, I hang up and give Achilles his phone back. He suddenly leans up and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me down so I end up laying on top of him. He laughs quietly and leans up to kiss me, warning a smile in return.

"You're suddenly very affectionate." I note.

"I'm always this affectionate, just now I'm allowed to show it." He replies.

"I'm not really good at physical stuff." I tell him. Achilles shrugs.

"I know. I don't mind."

"Am I crushing you?" I ask, changing the subject. Achilles shakes his head.

"You're as light as a feather, Pat." He assures me. "Do you even eat?"

"Yes." I say, concerned that I have to consider my words before I answer. I do eat, just not much. I've never really had a big appetite. Sandwiches and the occasional pizza slice is pretty much my diet.

"Anyway, I'm strong enough to bench press you." Achilles brags.

"I don't doubt it." I agree. Achilles leans up to kiss me, and I connect our lips, smiling.

~~~

Achilles sighs and switches the TV off when he realises I'm not watching it. I'm laid on his chest, trying to look at him without seeming obvious. I find myself trying to memorise his features. I wish I was good at drawing, he has such a nice face. I blush, once again realising that I sound like a shallow teenage girl, then finding myself wondering if appearance is all that I'm attracted to when it comes to Achilles. I wouldn't consider myself shallow, as I'm usually attracted to intelligence and personality as much as I am looks, but Achilles barely cares about education and doesn't really have a reputation for being a nice guy.

I try to shake that thought from my head. I am a teenager, and this is just a teenage romance. Most teenage romances are based on looks before real emotions start to develop, and that's fine. Achilles and I used to have a lot on common. Maybe we still do, just I don't realise it yet. And anyway, there's nothing wrong with liking Achilles only for his looks, since he likes me back for some reason (obviously not appearance). This thought then sends me into a spiral of self doubt, causing me to wonder what Achilles does see in me. This could be an elaborate prank, or a scam of some kind. What if he's just doing this to gain something from it?

"What're you thinking about?" Achilles, who was half laying, half sitting in at attempt to watch TV and relax with me on his chest, asks.

"Stuff." I reply. Achilles lays down completely, and I close my eyes.

"Like what?" His voice is so quiet and gentle, I find myself relaxing and answering truthfully, hoping he doesn't get upset or offended.

"Why you like me."

"And what's your conclusion?" Achilles asks.

"I have no idea."

"Really?"

"Really. I don't know what you see in me, and I'm kind of worried this is some kind of joke."

"It isn't." For some reason, those two short words convince me. I know I probably shouldn't, but I believe him.

"Then why do you like me?"

"Lots of reasons." He cards his hand through my hair gently, and I let go of some tension I didn't know I was holding.

"Care to elaborate?" I ask.

"Well, you're smart, and witty, and you have good music taste. Plus, you're really cute."

"Cute?"

"Yeah."

"Shut up."

"Why? You are!"

"I'm not cute."

"You are. It's the best word to describe you."

"I'm not even good looking, Achilles."

He gasps dramatically.

"Whatever gave you that impression?"

"Uh, the mirror?"

"No, no , no!" Achilles shakes his head. "You're beautiful, Patroclus." I yawn, starting to feel tired.

"I'm not, but thanks, I guess."

I feel like Achilles is about to argue, but then I hear him sigh quietly. He kisses the top of my head, then runs his hand lazily through my hair again. He does this a few more times, and I'm quickly lulled to sleep, feeling more comfortable than I've felt in a long, long time.