Spinning Onward {Axel}

We'd feel much better if we sunk this treasure
And we laid our armor down

He was just about to light a cigarette when the girl caught his eye. She drifted around the room, talking to people, but her eyes kept drifting back his way. Did he want a girl tonight? No, probably not. He didn't have the energy. Sitting up straight, he pulled a cigarette from his jacket and lit it, blowing smoke out into the crowd. Probably they'd never ask him to play. Fine. Some people were like that - they would take the risk of housing wanderers, but letting someone play music that was distinctly against the Capitol? That was going too far. It seemed hypocritical to Gusty, and he made up his made then and there to leave first thing in the morning. He didn't want to be associated with these kind of people.

He rubbed at his eyes, noticed that the girl had sat down next to him. She mumbling incoherently. The corner of his mouth jerked up in an impish smile. He wasn't trying to tease her lack of words, he was merely amused. Finally, she managed to get some words out. She wanted his name. Didn't they all? They wanted a name, and then they wanted more, but there was no more he was willing to give. Still, there wasn't any harm in telling her his name. The second she tried to ask him more, he'd be gone, up the stairs and into the room he was supposed to be sleeping in.

"Gus," he told her, because he was too lazy to squeeze out the extra syllable "Gusty" required. He took another puff on his cigarette, trying to exhale smoke rings like Abel had taught him. It wasn't working tonight, just like it hadn't for a long time. He could only do smoke rings when Abel was beside him, and they wouldn't be smoking together for a long time. Not until they were both in hell, and all they had to do to light a cigarette was to stick out an arm and it would ignite on the eternal flames.

Gusty leaned forward and put out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray on the coffee table. He wondered if this girl was a district one rebel, or a wanderer like him. "So, kid, what brings you here?" He felt the sudden urge to pull his guitar into his lap, tune it for the umpteenth time that night. He had to watch it, or he'd snap another string. They were hard to replace, since he didn't have much money and music shops were usually small enough that stealing was difficult. Besides, he didn't like stealing from music stores. They were sacred, somehow. Running a hand through his hair, Gusty tried to sit up straighter, make it seem like he was interested. He stretched his arms over his head, causing his spine to crack. Half of him hoped the action would wake him up, but it seemed that his eyelids drooped even more now.

The second she finished her rant, Gusty started laughing. It started small, just a chuckle, but it quickly grew into a full, deep-belly laugh, the kind he hadn't had in ages. When was the last time he'd laughed this hard? Months, probably, before that whole mess with Abel and Mira and the Peacekeepers. He was doubled over, clutching his stomach, inches from falling off the edge of the couch. She probably thought he was being rude, and if he din't stop soon, she'd start going on about disrespectful he was being.

Sitting up straight, Gusty wiped a tear from his eye. It was adorable, the way she got so defensive just because he called her "kid." It wasn't something his said to demean a person - he just called everyone that looked younger than him that, a habit he'd picked up from Abel. "Never seen a girl get so worked up just 'cause a guy was tryin' to ask her a polite question." He ran a hand through his hair, considering her words. Living dead, hm? Well, that was probably accurate. He didn't get much sleep these days, and when he did manage to close his eyes, his dreams were interrupted by visions of Abel's face and the horrible what-ifs that Mira had faced. A shiver ran down his back just thinking about it. He should make some inquiries while he was back home. But that would probably require asking his parents if Mira had come home, and either way, they'd ask him to stay. He couldn't. God, he couldn't go back there.

"I didn't mean to offend you, okay? And you'll have to excuse me if I'm a little tired. I've spent all day traveling, and the day before that, too." The mere mention of travel made his legs ache. He thought again of his decision to leave in the morning, and instead of backing down and deciding to wait another day, he strengthened his resolve. Aching limbs had never stopped Abel. Hell, he'd had to live with a heart tearing itself in two for years. What was a little leg pain compared to that? "I'm sure you know what it's like to be worn out after walking all day." Gusty couldn't say this girl looked like she'd seen much of the world, seen too much hardship, but something about her made him think she was made of good stuff. She was tough, and not just in the way that she stood up for herself. There was something else, too, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Gusty yawned. It really was getting late, and if he wanted to be heading out early in the morning, it would be wise to try to get some sleep. He slapped his hands against his knees and started to stand. "If you don't mind, I'm headed off to bed." He grabbed his guitar and put the strap over his shoulder. "Unless you'd like to join me? It's pretty cold tonight, and I wouldn't mind having someone to help keep me warm." He flashed her his most impish smile.