This is his Elysium: flushed cheeks and lips bitten to redness, like wine splashed over golden skin, blue eyes flecked with olive-green and earthy browns, and dark hair spread over trampled grass.
There is a tomorrow and one after that, and those tomorrows are not contained within an hourglass anymore.
Adult, set in the afterlife. Achilles gets his happy ending, the only one he’s ever wanted. This is lyrical and sensual and altogether beautiful.