Poseidon Arnav {D4 | FIN}

The opera of the sea was alluring. The vast paranomic view had been deeply-rooted in the oceans of the citizens of District 4. Each gust carried salt, thickening the air and stung the freckles on the skin. Waves rolled out like long, ancient parchments. If words were to be written on it, there would be more than two thousand words or so. An unmeasurable field of waters spread out from the horizon, halting only when it comes in contact with the grains dipped in earthshine-gold. The sirens of the water body were difficult to resist, persuading to enter the copper-bottomed depths. A variety of animals resided in the cryptic waves, packed with danger and anonymous beings.



Perhaps this impregnated the fear of the abyssal depths inside some people—because the lapping tidal waves held unlimited secrets. His tanned skin touched these, even to the point he could not pass a day without the enigmatic waters. This was Poseidon’s realm. It was a place worthy enough for him to address it as a favorite. But, it was not only for its beauties. The sea was forever associated with someone inside his mind—a particular boy. Under palm trees arranged in serried rows and on springy undergrowth of lush-green, they had frequent delightful meets. The sensation of his brown locks through his digits, the affectionate kisses of his and the aroma of sea around him was tattooed to his skull.



Most of those sessions ended with both the boys nuzzling, arms wrapping each other in ecstasy. There had been butterflies inside his stomach when his breath lands on his soft neck, their wings fluttering viciously and spoiling his innards. Eternity happened during these hours, love words exchanged eagerly and lips locking frequently.



He’d remembered his soft voice, innocent and seraphic among corrupted whispers-



”I love you.” It must had been a common sentence for the other. He, being a victim to love, would grasp the back of his head and lean in, pressing kisses to every part of the boy’s body after saying those three words. Even through the darkness of his closed lids, the visage of the other male’s body remained clear and bright.



He had dreamt of giving him the best of all pleasures and the joy of all happiness



“I love you too, Poseidon. Travis loves you tons.” And those were the only necessary things for him to hand even the firmaments to this boy. He said it only in kairotic times and the soothing tone of his voice always seem to change the ordinary words into incantations of a powerful heart-binding spell.

---

“You were born to do great things.”



The tone was nothing more than a soft breeze but for him, it was a tempest whisking pass him and immediately morphing into nothing more than a vulnerable, weak child. It had been bright inside the room of his father. Dangling lights split its innards all over the room, revealing everything from the stains of the wallpapers to the sternness inside the four orbs of the two people facing him. It resembled a cold sea, testing a ship along its voyage to see if it could handle the rough, chaotic winds and the violent winds.



“The Arnav family consists of nobles, dear. Most people are careers and those we aren’t choose for the games become powerful people.” The woman briskly proceeded her speech with words that drove only reminders into his head. He had had this talk since the age of ten years when he first held a blade. The hilt sank into his delicate palms, the weight causing subtle shakes of his hands and the act of violence turning his stomach into knots. Days passed by but a lone goal still remains in his crown, standing viciously and dauntingly. He’d been such an inexperienced career when the words of his trainer wormed into his head, as sudden as lightning and deeply attached to his innards like a parasite. The images of swords were reminders for this.



“Do not hesitate when you strike, Poseidon. It will be your end. I hope your life goal is to strike someone ruthlessly with no mercy or hesitation.”

---

There had been numerous tempests. The winds of the tempest drills against the fortress of the household, pulling failed attempts to conjure deep hollows into the strong fortress. Attempts come one by one, each with destructive intentions and all to break the steel family bonds of this fortress. Gravel-grey clouds simply gather from all directions daily, rolling and rolling until it unleashes ferocious winds to fragmentize the bonds but all were rendered useless most of the time.



The tempests had always strike from the outside.



And most of the time, he was the main target of these violent winds. He was a patient male, able to withstand even the longest waiting hours. But even an excessive patient man could not stand the winds, lashing against skin and strong enough to blow the skin off body. Power able to expose stashes of secrets and rapid enough to spread these secrets.



The bringer of these tempests had two names—Denver Aeron.



He had been nothing but a sophomoric career when they introduced him to the man. But, he hadn't been entirely focused on him at that time.



It'd not been long. Veins decorated his thin wrists and only some muscles of his torso had been chiseled. Being in that room on that day had been peculiar. There was an unusual thickness lingering in the air, brewing ethereal storms and winds. The brightness of the powered chandeliers ahead lightened the whole hall, publishing the images of ever individual in the room. The air being sucked into his lungs had a delicious aroma of various foods he could not distinguish but also another emotion. It was so thick he could slice it with a butter knife and he would obtain a thick slab.



Tension. But, it affected only two group of individuals, the Arnav and the Aeron household. He had guessed from the earlier behavior of his father. His tone was reluctant at the moment he revealed to him that an invitation to an event was sent for their residence. He’d blamed only the shyness that runs in his father’s veins—a trait completely opposite with the one he has. After dressing their bodies in the best fabrics that they has, the Arnav family matched to the event. He’d been informed that it was an event only for the nobles of the district, an occasion for the purpose of business and socializing better.



Denver was introduced to him by his father. At first glance, he knew that this man was the kind who impregnated others despite being bonded to a wife. The aura of him reeks of affairs, alcohol and greed. He had flashed him a smile smeared with friendliness but his eyes were able to dig through those layers of theatrical kindness. Underneath, he saw sins. It was the way his lips curled, it seemed forced with no form of empathy inside. His teeth reeks of alcoholic beverages and breath smells of lust. He had imagined his eyes even checking his semi-chiseled arms out, surfacing the revulsion inside him.



He had seated with his parents, a lone child in a table of adults discussing a variety of subjects he briskly became bored of. He was lone since his childhood. Every day of school ended with him stumbling out of the building with books in him but no friends to talk. He had no one but another boy. Travis. The boy was nothing when compared with nobles but that seems to be the quality that captured his heart. He was a kind boy, a huge circle of playmates encircling him.



That was the reason he was so fortunate to have Travis—because he had qualities that could not be rivaled only with fighting skills and money.



The event briskly bored him and he found himself waddling through crowds of more adults. The claustrophobic feeling weighing his chest down only vanished when the smell of salt in the air greeted him. Only a single excuse had been used to come out of that event. Sometimes, he loved how his parents understood him. Their orbs seem to catch the feelings inside his eyes without any difficulty- well, most the feelings.



The noises were nothing but a blur behind him. He’d wanted to get away. Among the crowds, he kept getting a sinister feeling up his spine, a feeling like he was a target of an individual—or individuals.



The source was unknown to his eyes but he had his doubts.



That was the last thoughts he had about the event- when he felt two arms around his torso. Startled, thoughts raced all around his crown and suffocated him. The arms were a steel band. His panic only disappeared when the attacker had granted him a chance to look back and he saw the face of his boyfriend behind.



The face he kissed almost daily.



"For fuck's sake, you startled me, Travis. I was going to snap your neck."



"Really? You were going to break this beautiful face?" A familiar breath touched his nostrils, reducing a once riproaring ocean into a tranquil riparian-blue surface. 

---

Have you ever felt confused and guilty at the same time? The twisting feeling that makes no logical sense at first? Like, you stroll down a street and notices the eyes of people on your back and all around you- staring deep into your very soul with a negative emotion but you couldn't guess why? And, in that moment, guilt seeps to the innards of your core, conjuring up images of all the minor sins that you've done?



It described the current situation he was in perfectly.



At first, he did not have the slightest clue.



It was just another day. The blonde curls coming out of his skull had not been probably combed and his hands were unable to rake it, occupied by the textbooks within its grasp. The sun of the morning stung his hollow eyes but he still managed to shuffle out of his residence, the strong glares forcing him to squint his two aquatic orbs. Muscles sore from the steel grasp of Travis’s hands last night and red lips throbbed slightly. He was a husky mess. Memories from the last before still brings a smile to his lips, the way he kissed him with delicate lips and the blanket of shadows concealing them, covering both their tanned skin in black mist.



School was starting in mere seconds and it was visible in the horizon now—a dilapidated building with soot and grimes in the deep cracks of its walls. Pulses seem to increase as feet carried him to the building he was excited to be at, not because of the numbers and the letters. Because he would be waiting for him. It was an instinct, shoving and clearing the people out of its way just so he could see his face a tad faster today. Footsteps accelerating as soon as he climbed the two steps of stairs and reaching a hallway branching out into numerous classrooms.



But, he found no face that familiar.



Crowds of students descended away from him. Through the lips of his coastal blue eyes, he spotted no friendly face. He waddled through, students parting the path he was on like the Red Sea. No signs of Travis. He scurried pass hallways and rooms, hoping to find him just standing there or materializing out of a corner. His breath seem to have picked up a pace, his chest collapsing rapidly. Eyes wondered aimlessly around, looking for a trail to follow. But, a void seems to have holed up his thoughts and blocked his capability to think straight. Fire seems to have been catching his veins, energizing him with a sudden jolt of shock. Footsteps had gotten louder, the sound bouncing off the hollow walls of the school building. Even though he was breathless, he seems not be interested in groping for air.



But, there was no one, no familiar face to kiss and to give affection to.



“Lost someone?”



The voice was cracking with a chuckle and extremely attention-drawing. But, he guessed that it had only gotten his attention because of the devastating situation he is in. It gifted him with a flicker of hope that disappeared with a trace when he turned his face.



It was a face worth puking for.



“Mr. Denver?” The words indicated the shock that had electrified his innards.



“Poseidon, isn’t it? Such a powerful name and it becomes more formidable when you put Arnav behind it.”



“Wh-“ What are you doing here?



“A faggot like you doesn’t deserve it.”



"..."



"Killing you might not the best solution. It will be a waste for such a beautiful name." The causality in his hissing voice turned his skin into ice and his tracks crystallized.



"I guess that was why I targeted that pest- what his name again? The one with tanned skin? The one you were disgustingly affectionate with last night? Ring any bells?"



The gears of his brain seem to have short-circulated, struck because of being cramped together and not running as free as before. Birds flew from the corners of his eyes, the distance chatter of students audible while he was motionless. It looked as if the hands of the clock inside him stopped for a second, freezing the animation of his body. Only blood coursed through his veins, only blood continued to flow. In fact, it was flowing briskly and violently as if a dose of searing flames had been injected into the veins and now, they had ignited the crimson liquid beneath his skin.



Denver had only laughed, mocking his stillness and murdered his pride with the poison of his words. He had collapsed to the ground afterwards, when the man was out of sight. But he seems to have planted something inside him- something sinister and hungry. Then, a thought shot into his head.



And using the strength he has left, he sprinted even though a part of him was telling him it was too late.



And, it was.



At the time his feet came into a halt in front of a residence, he found it warded off against him. It was clear from the closed windows and door. A tiny farm house engulfed with shadows inside. Knuckles wanted to knock the door of the house but he did not have the courage to.



Travis never locks his windows and doors. He likes the sun and hates being in closed indoors. Traits that they both shared.



They destroyed him. Fuck. Fuck, this is all my fault. FUCK.

---

It began once he stumbled upon the obsidian steps of his home. Muscles sore and eyes stinging from the ocean of tears it had shed. They were not the worst of all—no. The torturous of all was the agony aching the heart inside his rib-cage. Each pump was painful and sucked the breath out of his lungs back into the air, tendons weakened, similar to the powerless coursing of life blood underneath his skin.



The journey to his room was difficult. Legs ached with every step and his body was collapsible, fragile and delicate like it was made out of glass. One shaky hand extended to turn the knob of the room but he was stopped by a sudden cough—an indication of a person horribly familiar. His steel blue eyes shifted, taking a glance over the shoulder.



The background behind his father was a blur. The damp lashes of his eyes distorted his vision into grotesque colors. The crimson blood around his body felt heated and burning suddenly, tiring him even more than before. One hand held the doorknob of his room for support, the cold from it unable to penetrate the searing heat from his palms.



“How could you, Poseidon? Gender is a minor worry but—someone as low as this boy?”



He groped for words but he figured that he couldn’t even straighten his eyes to glance at his father. It might take such an effort to lift his orbs from his feet to the furious man’s face.



A click of the tongue implied anger, flames powerful enough to evaporate an ocean.



“I am ashamed to call you my son. Mother even refuses to see you right now.”



That night, his mind chained him to his bed, thoughts related to a specific subject flickering in his mind. At that moment, he was solely a forlorn figure.



What if I dive into the sea and never come up again?



Dinners were served with mutters and short conversations only. Both of them did not lock their gazes with him- not even once. He had also retreated back to his room, cloaking himself in the shadows that crept up his skin and darkened the bright bronze curls. Career training was the least of his concerns—chiseled muscles seem to have faded after days without proper meals and just sulking. Blue devils danced on his nerves, crackling his veins and persuading him to bite the corners of his right thumb whenever thoughts brewed in his crown.



He was searching for escape.



And where did he go? To the place which was his favorite before.

---

The lapping, dull waves harmonious crashed against tanned skin, soaking the flat, chiseled torso of his. Blonde streaks now lay on his forehead, damp and wet from the salt water. Long eyelashes flustered, miserably trying to get the water droplets out of his sight. The water had rose to his chest height now. Poseidon was quite tall, standing like a palm tree in the height of 6’0 years while only being 16 years old. His trainer had always praised him for his long strides and fast reflexes, able to evade incoming attacks by only sliding his feet along the ground, without lifting it.



Hands flailed powerlessly on the surface of the water, floating as he had released his control over them. He always had loved it—how the sea could make gravity loosen its hold over his body. The lightness in the water tranquilized his mind and it was the first time he was able to think straight. But, of course, the thoughts were only about him. He feared the actions they did to Travis—the nobles. Cruel at heart and rough in actions. Did they break his hands? He dared not to think anymore.



Fingers raked through his soaked blonde hair after swallowing the lump that had already started to form in his throat. He doesn’t want to see him anymore. He had headed to his house first but it was still warded off against him as if he was a vampire and the boy he loved had struck crosses and notes all around the house. Just a brisk knock would cause his knuckles to sizzle and he would burn at the spot.



He shook his head as if to stop thinking for once. He had forced his mind to think about other things and it changed to subject to himself. He thinks about the past times. Poseidon had always been a youth from a noble family. Every friend he makes seem to have fallen by the wayside when they figures out the name of his parents—especially when they hear the name Arnav. He had been friendly to all but it was the shadow of his parents that seem to frighten everyone away. His socializing skills were average but most people tend to avoid him.



Perhaps that was what made him love Travis so much.



Then, as if in a nanosecond, a voice surfaced his body upwards from copper-bottomed depths of the ocean swirling in him.



A voice familiar.



A voice horribly familiar.



“Ah, what a coincidence, Mr. Arnav.”



Teeth snarled so instantly he did not even realize.



“What the fuck are you doing here?”



“Like I said, what a coincidence” The same sly smile of mockery decorated his features, kindling flames of anger inside him. He raked his filthy hand through the brown curls on his skull, an act that disgusted him.



“I just came to have a sniff of the fresh air.”



Lies were his oxygen. People like him rarely comes to the beach side and the only reason for them is to check on their businesses on sea creatures and other occupations.



“You came to mock me.”



“I didn’t say that and why would I mock a filthy person like you? I would rather mock that little pest.” Eyes aimlessly wondered to the horizon but in his point of view, they were staring at him with a challenging look in them. “Oh wait I already mocked him.”



Fists curled so tight, he could feel the color of ivory on his knuckles. And teeth gritted in the same way, similar to the cramped anger blistering in his head. His breath had picked up pace, inhaling air turned into gasping for it. He loathed this feeling—the murderous vibes inside him that tempted him to snap the neck of the male—and he wished for it be released sooner.



“And, for your information, my men kind of broke his hand, poor kid. He must have been so confused but I think he guessed it. I also sent him an envelope after all. Is he ignoring you?” He sent a quick glance at all, only to have his smirk widened. “Figured.”



“Well, I am taking my leave now. This area seems to be polluted. And, you should warn him,”



“Next time, it won’t be pretty.”



His vision distorted, as if his brain had short-circulated and something had rose inside him. Something sinister and evil. Eye lids figuratively seem to have closed, fists loosened its hold and his body had ceased. First, it was a tidal wave. Second, it was a flame wave. Both collided and crackled his veins, a dance of water and fire that flexed his muscles inhumanly and planted his feet firmly on the sandy ground of the ocean, spraying particles of it. Each stomp blasted sand and kindled the fire in his curled fist. The water plotting against him seem to have pushed him forward with solemnly no effort. Copper-bottomed depths seem to have engulfed him because his eyes were seeing nothing but pitch. But, the bottomless abyss had not blanketed his skin with cold but the opposite of it—it was fire and sparks.



Fists swung and a cry went aloud.



Then, he had the man—older than him in age—pinned to the bottom of the shallow water. Hands weakly bounced off the water, unable to land damage to his limbs or visage. Soon, the swaying of them had slowed. That was when he had gotten a grip back on his reality. The once strong fists had loosened and the man splashed out of the water, fear decorating his features clearly. He was gasping for breath but air did not seem to be not important anymore. A step forward was all it took for the man to sprint away from him without a back glance.



He had only expelled a breath when he was out of his sight and collapsed back into the water.



It was a vault for his own stash of secrets. Under the curtains of saline waters, he was nothing but tranquil. Thoughts of wonder flicker in his skull from time to time—what change would take place if he doesn’t grope to the surface of the platinum aquatic surface anymore? No change, only because these waters had already changed him.

---

I did not hesitate.



Not even a bit.