jaguars in the air | emmett and emerson

Emie stands checking her nails out in the corner of the foyer, waiting her turn. She flexes her shoulders under the leather of her jacket, her combat boots scuffing the marble and her white floral dress swaying in the recycled air. Her fucking twin, older than her by only three minutes had somehow stumbled his way into the Games. And a fucking Quell no less. 

If he hadn’t been her other half, the blood of her blood, the very fucking person she had shared a goddamn womb with she would have been jealous. They had dreamt of this. Well, scratch that. 

Mom had dreamt of this for them. And she just so happened to be in a fit of something in the corner, her angry tears leaving streaks down her cheeks because of course she had waterproof fucking mascara on because she was Eurydice Le Roux but she was trying to keep it together as best as she could because this was their chance. Her chance. And all it took was her son dying. No pressure.

But Emmett, this wasn’t him at all. He wasn’t like them, in the best way possible. Emie was a shark and Emmett was a wolf. He was late nights and hangovers and she was dark rooms and bad decisions and gold changing hands. He didn’t want this, any of it.

He wanted freedom, and maybe that was the worst part. He would get it in the Games. He would pay for it with his life. 

She told him as much as she marched into the room, shoving him in the chest in lieu of a hello. 

“You fucking idiot, we were supposed to go together,” she breathes against his chest, feeling his solid weight under her hands and collapsing against him. In this moment, he still feels so alive under her touch. Angry tears peak through her eyes as she chokes in ragged breaths and she had never been one for dramatics but this was Emmett. Born together under the same banner, sharing everything until their mother had said “jump” and Emie had said “how high?” when Emmett had replied simply with, “fuck off.” 

Flashes of childhood play through her mind - a skinned knee and Emmett’s hands in hers to soothe her crying; a slap to her face from mother when she talked back and Emmett sporting the same split lip hours later. He protected her when she hadn’t ever needed protecting and now that armor had been stripped and she was drifting rudderless after less than ten words had shifted the sands of her life. And the fucker hadn’t even left yet. 

And yet, her world is no longer the same again. Will never be the same again.A moment is all she allows herself before she sniffles and clears her throat. 

“You never drank the kool-aid before now so, why?”she asks, taking a step back and crossing her arms over her chest. He was better than all of them, and she knew it. That didn’t make any of this right though. 

“And don’t lie to me,”she threatens but it lacks all of her bite. A toothless lion was a dead lion but lucky for her, she hadn’t just volunteered to be a tribute. 

She meets his eyes, through the haze of water still on her own, and he looks different than he ever has before. Calmer. Stronger. He's shielded her for so long, been the brother by her side, one soul in two bodies. But now, even for all their differences, she doesn't know where to go from here. 

But he does, she thinks, and there is a semblance of peace in that. He's going forward.

The wolf surpasses the shark, she thinks, running by her in the dark of the night, and for all her clever ways and fast tricks, she is the one who needs him now, when he's leaving her behind.