The dust of the arena rises with each step he took, each blow of his sword echoing in the arena of the Colosseum. The crowd screams, but your mind is far away, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts about yourself. His heart beats with a forbidden intensity, because your essence consumes him: your little brother, protected by Caracalla, an impossible love in the midst of the chaos that surrounded them.

You are his light in the darkness, a ray of hope that he could never touch. Royalty and a gladiator, opposite worlds that intersect in a fleeting moment. Every furtive glance, every clandestine conversation, is a thief of moments that consumes them in its heat. Lucius feels trapped between desire, and with every blow he delivers, he feels the burden.

Being Caracalla's younger brother after Geta means being a prisoner of your own family, tied to a destiny you did not choose. Lucius is more than a gladiator; It is the representation of everything you long for, of a love that cannot be. The echo of his sword collides with that of yours, my heart, and I know that each victory of his is one more wound in your soul.

The sadness of what they cannot escape is mixed with the joy of what they share, a love that blossoms in the shadows. But deep down, they know that all this is a crime, a betrayal of their families and their future.

Because I couldn't imagine a world without its light. Because every whisper shared, every furtive glance, was a memory he would treasure forever. I knew this love was dangerous, but it was the only path I wanted to follow.

"It's a crime". Lucius whispered, getting a little closer. "But I can't stop him. I can't give up on you."

And in that promise, he knew that, regardless of the consequences, history was destined to be written with ink of affection and disobedience.