One Dozen White Roses {After the Reaping} [gxk]
Sept 26, 2011 17:20:26 GMT -5
Post by Tea on Sept 26, 2011 17:20:26 GMT -5
The amount of time that had elapsed since Naida’s name had been called in the Games Square was entirely unknown to Dillon Wore. Minutes...hours...it didn’t matter. He knew that the moment that train left for the Capitol, nothing ever would. Sure Naida would have Raiden and Alba, but how much use was that? She was going to the same place that they had never been able to return from; the same place that had extinguished the life from so many, and it all began here, at the Justice Building.
Dillon had never planned on saying a final goodbye to Naida. No, it would have been so much easier if he had left her alone with her family, and allowed them that moment together. However, the thought of never seeing her again...well, that just didn’t sit right with Dillon. It brought on a sinking feeling of dread and nausea when he realized that letting Naida go without a word would be sacrificing everything she had become to him in the few years they had known each other. They had leaned on each other for support, and she had been there for him when the nightmares became too much to bare. Now, though, after four years, it was time for him to grow up. Naida needed him, and it was turn to support her.
Waiting quietly at the door, Dillon stared blankly down at the dozen white roses that he had brought. It seemed pointless to give anything to her, when it would only be a matter of minutes now before she had the male tribute were loaded onto that damn train, but it wasn’t about practically. White roses had been the one thing that had originally brought them together, and now, it seemed, it would be the thing that parted them as well.
“You may go in now.”
Caught up in his thoughts, Dillon glanced up at the Peacekeeper, eyes wide, before nodding and stepping over the threshold into the one place he had never intended to go.
At first, he said nothing. Green eyes raked over Naida’s form as she sat, taking in and fully appreciating the familiarity her appearance what he supposed would be the last time before clearing his throat.
“I...I brought you...these.”
His voice had been nowhere near the tone Dillon had sought. Instead of strong, it had faltered and broken, and Dillon had never hated himself more. The flowers he held out to her looked pathetic. White; like death; like a corpse. Like what Naida was going to be. No longer did they hold the the feeling of innocence and beauty that Naida had once told him they symbolized.
Drawing a ragged breath, Dillon dropped the bouquet, sweeping forward to take Naida into his arms, and the tears began to fall. Silent sobs wracked his body before, finally, Dillon was able to speak. “I can’t let you do this, Naida.”
Dillon had never planned on saying a final goodbye to Naida. No, it would have been so much easier if he had left her alone with her family, and allowed them that moment together. However, the thought of never seeing her again...well, that just didn’t sit right with Dillon. It brought on a sinking feeling of dread and nausea when he realized that letting Naida go without a word would be sacrificing everything she had become to him in the few years they had known each other. They had leaned on each other for support, and she had been there for him when the nightmares became too much to bare. Now, though, after four years, it was time for him to grow up. Naida needed him, and it was turn to support her.
Waiting quietly at the door, Dillon stared blankly down at the dozen white roses that he had brought. It seemed pointless to give anything to her, when it would only be a matter of minutes now before she had the male tribute were loaded onto that damn train, but it wasn’t about practically. White roses had been the one thing that had originally brought them together, and now, it seemed, it would be the thing that parted them as well.
“You may go in now.”
Caught up in his thoughts, Dillon glanced up at the Peacekeeper, eyes wide, before nodding and stepping over the threshold into the one place he had never intended to go.
At first, he said nothing. Green eyes raked over Naida’s form as she sat, taking in and fully appreciating the familiarity her appearance what he supposed would be the last time before clearing his throat.
“I...I brought you...these.”
His voice had been nowhere near the tone Dillon had sought. Instead of strong, it had faltered and broken, and Dillon had never hated himself more. The flowers he held out to her looked pathetic. White; like death; like a corpse. Like what Naida was going to be. No longer did they hold the the feeling of innocence and beauty that Naida had once told him they symbolized.
Drawing a ragged breath, Dillon dropped the bouquet, sweeping forward to take Naida into his arms, and the tears began to fall. Silent sobs wracked his body before, finally, Dillon was able to speak. “I can’t let you do this, Naida.”
