hollow no longer | {eden/leo}

Eden.

I find it simple, and yet somehow complex, like watching a sunrise. There is something about the simplicity that makes it so extravagant, and yes, beautiful. Yes, I know what beauty is. I might be hollow, just a vessel where a spirited young man should be living, but I still notice things. I still recognize thing like happiness, like when friends see each other after a long time. I know what hope is, as well. It's pushing yourself through the day, walking down an untold path and leaving fear behind. I know all of these things, I just can't remember how to feel them.

I think, maybe, I am scared of feeling, but isn't being scared and emotions itself? One coated with misery and agony, and sweaty palms and a raising heart beat? Is it fear that I am feeling, or is it all just a result of the running? She reaches her hand out into the air as she offers a name, and I take it. For a moment the delicate skin of it makes me forget the situation. It is just her and I, and I find myself liking the idea. Stop, Leo, you don't even know her. She is short, but she has an air about her that made her seem just as tall as me. Maybe even a bit taller. " The Detective is on the case. Thanks very much for the information, we've been after this gang for a while." And still, nothing has been done about them? For a moment, I wonder if, perhaps, this establishment is like all of the others, where they don't actually care about anything other than getting a title and a weapon, and some authority. I don't think they are, because Eden is already getting ready to leave the room, and a man has already raced out of the building after flashing her an impatient look.

""Do you wanna come? You can help rescue that girl. She a friend of yours?"

I don't know her. The only time I have ever laid eyes on her was moments before she was taken, when the men surrounded her like sharks. But I can't help feeling like her abduction is partially my fault, so I do what is right. I lie. "I'd love to come, and yeah, you could say that." Sometimes, a little bad is okay for a greater good. Who knows, maybe this is what I'll do with my life once I have aged too much to be eligible for the Hunger Games. Maybe this is my calling, who knows? It sure as hell isn't becoming a victor. I have always lacked motivation for training, and something tells my that my name being called out won't really fix anything. I would fight, of course I would, but my heart wouldn't be in it. Technically, I have the skill to win, but I'm not sure I would let myself. When I think of all the innocent people, full of life dying so that a hollow being could survive sounds wrong to me.

Eden didn't care if I was up for going or not, because she grabbed a hold of my hand and already had me halfway down the steps before I answered. I wonder if the warmth that spreads through my chest despite the frigid air is excitement, and I think it just might be. Every once in a while, when I am doing the most dangerous things, I feel like maybe there is something there again. Like maybe I still have a bit of hope just yet. I hope I do.

I am already a bit fatigued from all of the running, but when Eden ups the pace in order to catch up to the man that wears dark clothes and a matching expression I don't argue. I feel like I am going to have to lead in a sort, show them we I was when it happened, where I chased them, where I lost them. From there, I will get to sit back and watch them do their job, and maybe help as much as I can if we actually end up finding the men that are like a pack of wild dogs. "This way," I say to both of them.