Dionysos is sunning himself today, lying flat on his back on the grass and playing with a daisy. He looks utterly at peace, utterly content with the world, beautiful and dark and young.
Alyosha is walking in the sun today, fully dressed except for his bare feet and shirt-sleeves, also at peace and content, looking every bit twenty -- and certainly blushing at the naked boy in the grass, but also smiling with fondness before he averts his eyes. "Hello, Bromios."
Dionysos offers him the flower--pleased to see Alyosha, getting to his knees on the grass. "Did you decide whether you are in love?" he asks, with slight irony (how can love be decided when it is so obviously felt?).
He bends down to take the flower, smiling. "Something else happened -- a confession slipped out of me just when I'd stopped trying to decide. It seems I'd been in love all along without resolving I was."
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