Won't Lose My SOUL {Soul Family | JC}

| my words | your words | your thoughts | their words

Motion catches your eye and you look back towards the window. Toyota-- you'd know her anywhere-- breaks from the group and streaks up the steps, too fast for the peacekeepers outside who weren't expecting this small assailant. 

You can just barely make out the sound of feet hammering against the wood floors of the justice building. Voice calling out to her.

The rest of your family disappears into the justice building, your father pausing to apologize to the scowling peacekeepers.

You hear their urgings to wait. To "Hold on, kid. We have to announce you first." But apparently Toyota would hear none of it.

With just enough time for you to wipe away the remaining liquid tokens of weakness, she bursts through the door and practically jumps into your grasp with a huge hug, her slender arms encircling you.

Sobs wracked her rib cage in heaves and she clung to you. You held her tightly, resting your chin on the top of her head and gently stroking her back like Bugatti would have if he were here.

"Kia," she murmurs forcefully into your shirt, pushing herself past her tears. "Promise me you'll come back."

There's a pause as you bite your lower lip in thought. Like you'd lie to your baby sister. But she's so broken. So, so broken. Comfort, yes. But lie? No.

But you can't decide. An air conditioning unit hums in the background. It's a window unit. A cheap one. Ancient by the looks of it. A peace keeper hasn't closed the door and you can see him glaring in at you and Toyota and glancing at his watch.

"I'll see what I can do, Toya," you say. You plant a kiss on the top of her head before pulling away and gripping her by her upper arms. "Sometimes these things aren't up to me. It's almost pure chance. Like the roll of a dice. But I will do everything in my power to get back to you. All right, girly?"

| my words | your words | your thoughts | their words

You sigh. Oh, Toya. Why can't you make this easy on me? Why do you have to make me think about what I'm saying. You know I can't get your hopes up.

She backs out of the hug, her dark curling hair fluttering at her waist with nervous energy. And the flow of the air conditioning blowing straight at you two. 

Goose pimples rise across your uncovered arms. 

Toya punches your arm-- well, maybe not punch. It's more a quick tap with her knuckles. You'd be taking heavier hits soon. 

"Don't call me girly," she says, her voice as light as her punch. Like she was just barely trying to tap the tension and gloom hanging over their heads.

Not today, Misery. You won't take this moment.

Tears stream down her face again. "Please just promise."

She wraps her arms around you and buries her face against your chest. This tiny bit of a girl. She feels like a baby bird cupped in your hands and being placed into a shoe box after falling from its safe nest on high.

The air conditioning shuts down and it begins to feel less like a morgue and more like a sweltering Capitol-sanctioned hellhole.

How many families have said good-bye in this very room?

"I'll do everything I can, Toya. I promise." Your face breaks into a grin and you pull away. "Now let's end on a good note. You've got two siblings and a father to keep out of mischief."

You scoop her up into your arms again with a grin and a laugh and shake her around in a huge hug and then you set her down. "Tell jokes, laugh loudly, keep your chin up and get Porsche to teach you how to curse. Your sister could write a book on it."