violette
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When Achilles takes his last breath, he smiles.
But when he next opens his eyes, it is not his lover he sees, but his own corpse, face down in the mud, a betrayal of all his mother wanted for him. He spares no more than that thought, before looking around. There is one face he longs to see among the crowd. It is the one face that is not there.
How cruel of the fates, to keep them apart, even in death.