Patrick Clark | Patroclus (borrowed_armor) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2012-01-27 16:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | helen of troy, patroclus |
Who: Helen and Patroclus
When: Friday night
Where: Helen's apartment
Warnings/rating: tbd
Being in her classes all day had resulted in a very hungry Helen, but Patroclus cooking for her was one of the sexiest things he had ever done for her. So she couldn't help but feel a little less hungry at the very thought. She stood in the kitchen doorway, watching with a mischievous grin. "So what compelled you to cook for me tonight?"
She reached into one of the drawers and pulled out an apron. Although she wasn't much of a cook she did wear it when she felt the urge. But tonight Patroclus was playing chef, so he had the honors. She closed the space between then, placing the apron straps over his head and then wrapped her arms around him (as unnecessary as it was) and tied it in the back. "That's better. There's nothing like being a sexy chef without the proper attire." She kissed his cheek and then stepped to the side to watch curiously.
Patroclus laughed as she put an apron on him. "Are you just doing this to take amusing photos of me?" he asked while he got everything ready. "I wanted to do something nice for you is all. You do so much for me." He leaned in for a quick kiss.
Helen couldn't help grinning at his appearance. "Only if you want me to. But I'd rather take some of you in just the apron," she grinned. She had seen what Briesis had posted and although she would have liked to have commented on her talent, Helen decided against it. Those were rocky waters and chances were no amount of pleasing comments would save Helen from ridicule. And she was having much too good of a day for that. She smiled sweetly, "Whisking you away spontaneously is fun and I enjoy it. Besides, there's still a lot I have to make up for."
The thought of posing in just the apron was amusing and Patroclus smiled as he stirred the meat in the marinade he had made with yoghurt and spices. "Well we'll see what happens after dinner," he chuckled. "What else do you possibly think you have to make up for?"
Helen wasn't joking when she said that either. If she could get him to pose she wouldn't turn down the opportunity. She grinned, enjoying the thought of seeing him in nothing but her apron. He could definitely pull it off. She shrugged at his question, "A lot of times I think I shouldn't have left when I did." She paused, "No, I shouldn't have gone. But things were really confusing and I feel like my decision to get away for a while might have suggested I didn't want to be with you. And that wasn't the case at all... in case you hadn't noticed by my coming to you first."
"I noticed," Patroclus said quietly. When she had left, she had broken his heart, but it was healed now. It was healed the second she returned. And maybe Achilles was right and he was too trusting, but he didn't care. She was Helen and he loved her.
Patroclus finished preparing and he started cooking the dinner he planned to serve her. "If you needed to go to get perspective, you were right to go. You came back and that's all that really matters."
"You were the only person I wanted to see, and still the only one who really matters," she reassured him. Helen knew that no matter how hard she worked to prove herself, Achilles and Briseis would never trust her again. She didn't blame them. Her past was smeared with deceit, even if some of it wasn't entirely her fault. Even the stories stated her falling out of love with Paris, proving that even spells could be broken. She was her own woman now and she chose what she wanted.
"To be completely honest," she said with a short pause, "I was afraid of what Aphrodite would do if Paris decided to show up. He's a blot on my past and my biggest regret. In my right mind I know this, but with a spell I don't think the way I should. I've only really, truly loved two men in this world and both of them I've hurt. That's why I can only promise I'll do everything I can not to hurt you again." For Helen to be this open was shocking even to her, but lately she'd been gaining a lot of perspective. She was no coward, so she admitted her feelings.
Patroclus could understand that spells made people act in ways they wouldn't normally. Hybris had brainwashed Achilles into basically punching Pat's jaw off, but Patroclus understood his best friend never would have done that if he were himself.
"I trust you, Helen," he said easily. And he did. "Sometimes the gods interfere and we can't help that. But I trust you." He gave the food a stir and then went to wrap his arms around her.
It was unfortunate that the gods could have such power over them. It was Helen's greatest fear that they would choose her as a target once more. But all she could do was live her life and hope for the best.
"It's nice hearing you say it," she said with a smile. "I like to think that being here today means I get another chance. I just hope they don't try to put me under another spell." Her arms slid around his neck, "Patroclus?"
If any gods ever tried to put her under a spell, he would fight for her. Oh he would fight. He leaned in to kiss her. "Hmm?"
There would always be a piece of her fighting from the inside, just as she had during her time in Troy. That love she felt for Paris was never real. It wasn't like this, and it wasn't like what she felt for Menelaus. She kissed him once, and pushed past that voice that said there was no turning back. That she couldn't take things back now, because she really meant it. "I love you," she whispered. She had never been the first to say those words, not even under that spell.
Patroclus let out a soft breath at hearing those words from her lips. It was all he could have ever wanted in life. Helen of Sparta, the woman he was in love with, loving him back. "I love you too," he said, caressing her cheek with his hand before pulling her in for a deep, loving kiss.
It was something Helen could never take back. It was something she knew that the moment she let it be known that there would be a lot riding on those three little words. She meant them, but it also meant she was vulnerable. At this point there was no need for words. She had said what she knew he felt, what she knew he wanted. She deepened the kiss, forgetting all about dinner.