a {kiss} with a fist // summer&lear.

It wasn't frequently that Lear left Melnont House. It was his place of work, and perhaps he enjoyed watching the children through the bars just a little too much for a man without emotion. It was simply that the path held no appeal - the other side of the gate only led to more empty, useless district. Two itself was, for Lear, a place to bide one's time. Most of his days were spent waiting for opportunity. Today, the eyes in the house were too dull, the pain too numbed and unreachable.

The boy - for that was all he truly was - rose from the chair in the corner and set down his book. The writing set was laid out on the desk, untouched and tidy. He paused with the feather in his hand, before dipping it in the ink and writing a slow and steady letter. The time passed slowly, leaking away as it does when one struggles for words. Distraction crept into the corners of his mind and snatched his concentration away. For a moment, he pondered the man who hired him. Was it really so easy to believe that Lear was of age, a man on a mission rather than simply a child who fled his home in search of something better.

For many years, Lear considered becoming a Peacekeeper and finding his way through the system that way. It seemed almost too easy at the time - the work would be hard and the hours long, but surely he would get what he always wanted. Power. Travel. Control. It was only then that his elder brother applied for training and Lear decided he didn't simply want to enforce the laws that Snow set. He wanted to be King. Now, it seemed that he was slightly stuck - the world did not abide to his rules, not yet.

He frowned and turned back to his letter, pushing away fleeting memories of playing Victors and Gamemakers with his brothers, always fighting for the part of President Snow. Even then, six years old and rosy-cheeked, Lear was cold as ice and ruthless in everything he did. What he wanted had always been the only way.

To my brother,
I am writing to ask how you have been fairing in your voyages. It has been a long while since we last corresponded, and I decided I should query you once more with questions of your travels. Have you visited the Capitol when delivering your wares? Furthermore, have you been privileged enough to meet the President himself? Having been away for so many moons now I hope for your sake that your progression through the ranks is swift. I hear those who linger in the lowly positions for too long find it hard to become anything more than what they began as.

You know me well enough to be sure I am not simply writing to question to wish you good health. The adress of your college, the boy who lived across the district and was wealthy enough to retire before his twentieth birthday, is what I need. Surely you remember him - his business was spotted by a travelling Capitol salesman and bought out. I wish to speak with him concerning a project and it is of utmost urgent. I cannot disclose information in this letter for fear of it being read by prying eyes, but I'll thank you to have the information I need sent on by sun-fall.

While I am writing I wish to take a moment to remind you of your first job as a paperboy. The newspapers you took so early in the morning never did reach their destinations, and the new coat I bought that winter was not the result of stumbling upon cash. I am sure you knew this, but Mr. Altiar tells me that it is best to confess to my sins. Sinning is something I have become increasingly good at over the years - it seems, dear brother, with every passing day I am more determined than the last to get exactly what I want.

I suppose there are people like this working among you and your team - people who would do anything and everything to gain power over their equals and find ultimate control in their friends. Be careful, dear brother. I know we fought, as all brothers do, but I sincerely hope you stay safe and well. Of course, if the plan I propose does not find stable ground beneath it's feet I may be forced to turn to you once more. I don't doubt that you'll help me - we both know I have a hold over you that will never be let go. I just hope that you will aid me as I need. That way, the secrets that rest on my tongue will never spill out over a parchment such as this one and find their way to the Mayor himself.

Best wishes, Lear.