My foot tapped on the ground. While my injuries were healing, they still throbbed. And my back. God, my back. After so many years of sleeping on a bed no better than the ground, it could use some relief.
A bath like that didn’t sound so disagreeable. I thought about it, but my mind came up blank, offering me no reason to refuse.
Soon enough, I was free of my clothes, stifling a moan the instant my foot touched the warm water. I latched myself onto the edge as the pain started to diminish.
My eyes found the muscles of his back where the water stopped just below his shoulder blades, the lines of him shifting gently with each breath. He submerged under the water before coming back up, droplets hovering over his broad and smooth back before sliding down in thin, glistening trails.
I gulped. “You can turn around now.”
He turned, a few beads of water running down his hair to his nose, rolling all the way to his chin before landing in the pool. I imitated his previous position, letting my hair sink into the water, my eyelids closing.
My body began to feel revived as pain melted away, soothing areas I didn’t know were tense. The absence of it almost felt wrong, like silence after endless noise.
Tears swelled in the back of my eyes, as a strange moment washed over me, and my own voice betrayed me. “I might die when the next game starts.”
It was then that I realized the truth of it.
The water parted for him as he approached, though he still kept his distance from me. He watched me silently.
A rebellious tear began to roll down my cheek, but I plunged my head into the pool, letting the water wipe away the salty evidence.
So pathetic.
When I resurfaced, Eros was observing me, his gaze lingering with an unnerving stillness. It felt as though he was probing my thoughts, as though he was struggling to understand what I was thinking.
“You exhibit neither happiness nor anger. You seem to be content with your current state. For what reason?”
I grit my teeth. My first instinct was to question his assessment, but then I recalled his earlier words about being sustained by love and hatred, which meant he could easily detect both.
I shrugged, acting uninterested by what I was about to share. “I tried feeling both before and none of it changed the course of my life.”
“You are deserving of happiness. Why be satisfied with less when you can aspire to more? Dreams cause no harm,but nightmares do, and it seems you are willingly compelling yourself into living one.”
His words stung like a knife in my chest, and they still managed to anger me.Iwas choosing to live in a nightmare? I almost huffed at that. Like I ever had any choice to begin with. It wasn’t in my power to change the course of my life. I tried, and I failed. He was in no place to judge me for the way I lived.
I frowned, and my body remained glued to the side of the pool as I looked at him. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out, no matter how many times my tongue rose to the roof of my mouth.
“If being happy was a choice and the answer to everyone’s problems, how come you’re not?” He opened his mouth as if he was preparing to speak, but I interrupted him before he could. “I should go rest,” I announced, before walking out of the water and retrieving my clothes, not caring if he saw my exposed silhouette as I made my way back inside.
The morning was still and quiet when I stealthily slipped out of bed, grateful that the ground beneath me didn’t protest the way the floor in my assigned chamber always did. Tugging on my shirt, I glanced at Eros, who was sleeping peacefully with a long pillow between his arms and knees. I decided then that I preferred him this way: not talking and prying into my personal life for sport—assuming that I even preferred him inanyway.
With a sigh, I massaged my temples.
A rebellious strand of hair rested on his forehead, merging with the shining light of the morning. His lips, pouting at his dream, released a soft exhale into the calm air.
Last night, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I wasn’t sure if it was even humanly possible to drift off that fast, and I didn’t care if Eros realized I was faking it as long as he didn’t try to talk to me about what went down in the pool. So when the mattress twitched lightly under his weight, my breath caught in my chest and in the room I heard a quiet, “Good night, mortal,” before a swift air extinguished the candles and brought dark night upon us.
I pushed the memory aside, and my soles met the floor with a whisper as I tiptoed to the glass wall, welcoming the touch of the sun against my skin. I purred under the sensation and against all odds and circumstances, a smile lifted on my lips.
This—because of this moment right here—life is somewhat tolerable.
Despite my occasional resentment of my poverty, I was mostly content not to have inherited wealth or nobility. Money, though presented as only a coin of exchange, meant much more—it ruled over presidents, kings, and even gods. Money guided judgment, actions, words, and its influence was as unforgiving as a poison, urging those who got a taste to chase for more.
Money would make you yearn for a brand new phone, designer clothes, and a fancy car, but once you had those things, they’d become meaningless, and you would move onto wishing for castles and yachts. It was a self-induced competition with no finish line. Again and again, money would make you race for more.
Those like me, who had never known the advantages of wealth, found joy in the simplicity of life, making the most of what they had—even in something as ordinary as relishingthe sun. I profoundly pitied those who never learned how to appreciate the things they didn’t have to work hard to get.
I lingered for a moment longer, savoring the stillness. A sigh rolled from my lips. It would be so easy to wake up to a new day like this—to the silent, comforting morning. I couldn’t recall the last time dawn hadn’t emerged with my mother’s repeated words. Or my father’s grunts as he struggled to walk out of the house.
