{ divine sorrow } anzie

Ky lay cradled in her arms, his head buried into her chest, his breathing soft and delicate. He was growing so fast, He was getting bigger and bigger by the day, and every change in his appearance seemed to take shape before her eyes. One moment he was as small and delicate as a flower, skin crinkly and [ink, and now here he was, bigger and bigger in her arms. A small smile seemed permanently ingrained on his lips, his cheeks rosy and bright, sometimes she just wanted to poke him to make sure he was real. Most of the time she just stared at him, drinking in the sight of this small bundle of life, and knowing that as he grew up those eyes would become more and more like his father’s, knowing that this eyebrows, and hand and legs would be an echo of his father’s.

For now she just buried herself in the thoughts of watching him grow up and of the pleasure of having something so precious to remember him by. She pushed aside those dark thoughts; the ones she knew would consume her so easily. Of late she’d tried her best to push them away when they came for her. In her own way she was trying to get better, trying to overcome the pain and mend herself. It was harder at night when she had no conscious awareness of what was happening, when the terror and pain would snag her in one blinding moment and leave her thrashing in her blanket.

It was at those points at night, when she’d be crying in her sleep, or groaning or screaming that Ky would begin crying. He stayed in her room, in a cot to the side. She’d been told that some parents let their children sleep with them, but she’d never, for a second, thought hat would be a good idea, she thrashed too much, her nightmares stole her and she didn’t know what she was doing when she was asleep. When Ky started crying it was as though it was for her sake and not his. His wails would dig deeper into her mind then her fear and drag her back. She’d be up and out of her bed and by his side in no time.

Sometimes when she came to soothe him he’d touch her hand or her face, and she’d hold herself there and cry, or she’d wipe away her tears and hug him until he fell asleep in her arms once more. Last night had been one of those nights. He’d awoken her from her wild thrashing with his cries; she’d held him until her heart had stopped pounding. He’d gripped one of her fingers and held it so, so tightly until he’d fallen asleep.

Almost every games since Potato had died she’d avoided talking with her tributes, she’d avoided communicating with almost anyone except for Nightshade. She didn’t go into the computer rooms to watch her tributes fight; she didn’t try to gain them sponsors or help them. She didn’t have the heart to waste on caring for them, she didn’t need more blood on her hands, and she didn’t want more lives placed in her care. She’d neglected them, and she felt nothing. To say the least, the mentors for the district one tributes were hardly impressive. Topaz was too busy with her children, Peridot was doing whatever the fuck he did when he was in the Capitol and Opal Earnest just didn’t care.

Today, however, after much pressuring and nagging from her old escort she had decided to watch them, just for an hour or so. Her escort had started screaming at her, saying all sorts of nasty things, telling her that those children would die without her guidance, that well, they were being attacked and one of them looked in a pretty bad shape. As uninterested as she was in her districts tributes she did not feel like having Carmel disturb Ky anymore then she already had.

The training centre was as still as death in the early morning. Darkness hugged the corners, and shadows dragged themselves across the floor. The air was chilly, she moved quickly, wanting to be in and out. She tugged her jacket tighter around her body, a loud huff escaping her lips as a balloon of hot white air. This was endlessly irritating and an annoying waste of time. She wanted nothing to do with those children. As she rounded a corner she drew to a halt, the door to the surveillance room sat ten meters in front of her, but there was someone blocking her way.

He’s tall, with blonde hair, he has blue eyes. But for an instant this boy disappears and all she can see his someone covered in blood and dirt, with a weapon in their hand standing over Potato Earnest’s dead body. Pain hits her hard in the chest, but it’s quickly consumed by something cold, like an icy fire that spread through her veins, and she’d be damned if she watched some stupid children frolic around in the snow. She’d be damned. Instead she started walking, each foot slapping the ground as she moved, her legs trembled, and her arms shook and her eyes burned with a cold blaze she had forgotten she had.

She stepped closer and closer to him, jaw shut painfully tight. Her entire body tensed as she moved and when she reached him she swung.