By June Vo
Excerpt; Chapter 6
Summer Lyre
“Entertain me then.”, I said without falter. I only jested the idea of him playing a hymn for me. Had Aelius been a regular man, he would have shot back with a defensive statement. I would not mind if he did either. Yet Aelius did not.
“You drive a hard bargain, friend.” Aelius joked, strumming the lyre experimentally like a cook creating a new recipe– cautious and refined. With only a few more tugs, his eyes lit up. He reminded me of small puppies that would roam in the streets of the villages.
I shall entertain you indeed, was all Aelius said before his sand-scrapped hands plucked away.
I sat there captivated by the sound. Nobody had strummed music like Aelius did, his fingers danced across the lyre with elegance and poise that seemed to have a never ending flow. It was as if the instrument had been undone from the gentle touch of his calloused hands, the lyre swimming in the warmth and emitting its captivating melody as an expression of its gratitude. With each pluck and twang of the strings, it strung out touching embers of love. If I were proposed to be the fateful recipient of his love and gaze, I would say yes in an instant.
He stopped, looked over towards me in sombre docile eyes, and paraded me a painting of unfulfillment then looked away. He placed down his lyre and gripped the underneath of his bench. He sits in an uncomfortable position, shifting constantly and poking at the lyre with his index finger; he looks odder from my point of view from across the room, on the floor . It makes me smile how I cannot understand for what reasons his actions are so drawn out, yet neither do I ask him. It would be an insult to ask him something so ridiculous, but I do not understand why this feeling is within me either. I could command him within a breath.
I shall not.
His attention peeled off of the lyre and spoke to me, his gaze was longing for something. The tension consumed the silence. It was I who had to break the void of lull, or I believe that he would change me from clay to pottery with the strong fire that was Aelius.
However, his words charged first; standing up, striding closer to me and splaying his palms out to me, facing upwards. He acted like a wounded soldier coming home from war, confessing his wrongdoings and injustices.
“Not the most manly trait to be blessed with, as an archer, I should be using my hands for bloodshed. Amusing, isn’t it?” The words Aelius spoke were different from what his eyes reflected. His eyes were the giveaway to his lies, they spoke of truth. The truth of his eyes were a different beast than the ones his mouth had unleashed.
His hands hesitated in retraction. I did not let him, I hastily took hold of his bolded and fragile hands, placing them directly onto mine. Aelius’s eyes widening in surprise.
“For a bow wielder, you have much more delicate hobbies than the other men I have met in my life, that is true. Though I see it as a very beautiful past-time, it must've required much practice.” He did not seem to believe me, even if he had, it did not show on his face.
I squeezed his hands playfully, hoping to elicit a reaction in him, just a small tinge of emotion would do. However, Aelius did not react. Only a small glance up, which did not remain long as his eyes sprung to the wardrobe alongside his lyre.
I did not take joy simmering with him in his glum, though I did not know of many emotions aside from battle before the archer. It felt unknown. Would the scholars say that this was empathy or consideration? Whichever one it were, I did not know, and would not care to know. In that fleeting moment, I had only cared to know if insecurity had taken him away completely.
“Believe me, I understand. Being the paragon of youth does not do me any favours, either.”
My eyes fled from Aelius to the firm stone flooring beneath us. I felt my resolve wavering and a sudden pained guilt for comparing us, it swam up to my throat in large tides. My hands left his. Then a soft chortle came from him and his hand extended to the reach of my shoulder, I looked back up. His mouth was forming a soft smile and eyes were crinkled. The tides dropped, running up and down to the beach, remaining calm for the remainder of our time together.