Post by nora patterson, 12f ♡ kait on Sept 22, 2020 10:59:32 GMT -5
ALLOW ME TO SIT IN THE SUN AND LISTEN TO THE SKY. I WILL LOVE YOU GENTLY.
Your life started quietly.
You know that that didn't last very long for your parents, know that you turned into something of a handful as the years went on, probably caused more trouble than really you had any right to, but you were young and the sun was high and you don't like to think about who you would have been if you had stayed the quiet little girl that you were in childhood.
She isn't here anymore.
She can't help you now.
But still. Sometimes you think about her, remember how you used to do everything that you could do do anything except for what you had to be doing. You would pluck notebooks from your father's study and scribble and scrawl across the pages, doodle pictures of flowers in the margins of books that you think your mother must have read once upon a time but hadn't picked up in years. Decades, probably. You were an only child, alone with only your mind really to entertain you. Sure there were the farmhands, and sometimes their children would come to work and try to play with you, but you liked it better when you were alone in your field of flowers, tying stems together to make a little crown for you to wear as you danced under the sun.
Looking back, now that Elias has changed everything, turned the farm into something that knows how to make money instead of bleed it, you know more than ever that your father wasn't running the business very well. He was a sentimental man, with a romantic for a wife, and the pair of them were far too kind and bright eyed to do anything except love every single one of their workers. It didn't matter to them that Gavin had a bad back and couldn't work as hard as someone younger, didn't matter than Carlos from a few miles away had six kids to take care of in the morning and was always late, didn't matter that the new farmhand was somehow piss-poor with a sickle because he was Old Man Jacob's grandson so you all just had to be patient and wait for him to figure it out.
Those people were working your land, and that meant they were family. For as much as they were taking care of you, you had to take care of them.
You don't remember when you started thinking that was really fucking naive, but you did. And slowly but surely, you started waking up in the morning realizing that this couldn't be the way things continued. Every year the crop got harder to manage and every year the resources got scarcer and every year you woke up just a little bit more, opened your eyes just a little bit wider.
And one day you realized, you weren't a quiet thing anymore.
You tell your dad that he's doing it wrong, and he tells you that you're young, that you don't understand how the world works, that those are your people and you can't abandon them. You don't have the courage yet to tell him that your stomach is empty and you're fucking hungry all the time because he can only barely afford to put food on the table and you don't understand how he isn't skin and bone by now because you know that he's giving you the bigger portions and you don't know how to come to terms with the fact that he called you small and—
So you make yourself louder.
You're a teenager, not full grown but you're on your way, and Eleven falls in love with you. Your laugh is bright, sunshine in any room that you echo through, and you warm the hearts of every person that you meet. You dance through rooms, hair long and free and dark as the night sky, and you promise yourself that you're not going to end up living on your parents land for the rest of your life. You want to find a way out, want to find someone to take you away from this place and create a life together out past the fences. You talk all the time about running away, spin under the stars and whisper in your friends ears that one day you're going to go live among the sugarberry trees.
That's how you meet Sebastian.
A peacekeeper in training, boy-banished to Eleven to atone for a sin he committed in the Capitol, you don't mean to fall in love with him. But you do. By god, you really fucking do. You kiss him under stars and curl under his arm while the two of you lay a red and white checked blanket out in a grove of peach trees. He tucks your hair behind your ears and looks into your eyes and tells you that he loves you, that you're his whole world, that he would spend his whole life with you if he could. You don't tell anyone about him, not even your very best friends. You stop writing in your journal too because it's easier to just not write than it would be for you to try and write about your life without including him and you can't risk it falling into the wrong hands.
He'd be ruined.
Turns out, he'll ruin you instead.
When Elias Izar first gets his eyes stuck on you, you're half a year down the rabbit hole of your relationship with Bas and you don't even give him a second look. You know him, know his type, have heard the whispers just as much as any of your other friends have. Those Izar boys, people say. Nothing but trouble. You keep trying to avoid him, but you think that that's probably half the reason he kept trying. Something about the thrill of being told no for the first time in his life, you're sure. But he kept coming back over and over and over again and there was something endearing about his determination that you couldn't help it when you started smiling every time he showed up. And right when Elias started making you smile, Bas starts making you scream. You want more from him than stolen moments when your parents are sleeping, more than a look across a room where you have to pretend that you don't really know each other. You ask him to run away with you, abandon his post, and he tells you that he can't, that he doesn't want to live with the wanderers, that he's finally starting to feel like he has a place here in Eleven with the other Peacekeepers.
So when Elias leans in to kiss you, you let him.
And when you wake up in a tangle of sheets, you can't find a shred of regret anywhere in your chest. Looking down at him in the morning, dawn dancing along his cheekbones, he looks so much kinder than he ever has before and you lean down to kiss him awake and tangle the sheets all over again.
But there's this: the first thing you write in your journal when you finally pick it up again is I'm pregnant. The part you leave out: I don't know whose it is.
It doesn't matter though.
Even if it feels like Bas ruined things, you can't ruin him, can't take away the career he didn't want but found a way to love. You have always wanted a child, wanted a family for as long as you can remember. This isn't how you planned it, isn't what you envisioned exactly, but you knew from the moment you found out you were with child that there was no way in hell you were giving it up. And maybe the child really was Elias's; you had no real way of knowing.
So you choose Elias. And he lets you.
And after that, life gets quiet all over again.
It's a different kind of quiet this time though, not quite as soft around the edges. You're not a little girl with a crown of flowers wrapped around her head anymore, and you don't have half as much time for yourself as you used to. Marrying Elias is a turbulent thing; you're not in love with him, and sometimes back then you would wonder if you ever were really truly going to be. You are now, you suppose.
After all, what is love except for knowing someone better than anyone else in the world? You think, sometimes, that's why Elias has never loved you.
Because you have never let him know your truth.
But you exist together and it's soft and kind enough, even if he stumbles home a little bit too late sometimes and he isn't half the co-parent you would have wanted him to be. He told you when all of this began that he wasn't cut out to be a father, and he was right; you can't really begrudge him for something that he warned you about himself. Not when you're the one who dragged him into fatherhood in the first place.
Alfer is born, and with him come years of love that you didn't even know you were capable of. You pour everything that you are into him, try and ignore the fact that somehow Elias manages to convince your father to turn the dead and dying farm into something that could flourish by doing exactly what you've been trying to tell your father to do for years. You try not to let it get to you when your father loves Elias more even than you think you do. That he's the one who really feels betrayed when Elias starts fucking the new farm hand. You try not to let it get to you that you maybe thought when you married him that you were finally going to have the big extended family that you dreamed about once upon a lifetime, don't want to let it get to you that Elias has no interest in the rest of the Izar brood when all you want to do is have a big, happy family. You try not to let it get to you that the two of you are only barely married when you give birth alone, without your husband to tell you that you're going to be a wonderful mother, that you can do this, that your child is going to be so loved.
And it doesn't get to you.
Years go by, and rumors come and go, but both of you stay. Sometimes it takes him days before he spends a night in bed with you again, but he's usually there in the morning when you put a plate of breakfast out in front of your two boys, three including him. You mostly stop shouting and screaming at each other, stop play acting like maybe once upon a time you were in love and what he's doing now is because the two of you fell out of it. No, you got married because your children deserved to have a father and that's the be all end all of it. He tells you that if you want to take a lover, then you can, he won't mind, and you think about it for a long time, even go out to a bar one night and let a woman buy you a drink and press you up against the wall outside, but it never happens again. Maybe when the boys age out of the reaping, then you'll have the desire to find a life that's entirely your own, but for now Mateo still likes it when you sit out with him in the sun so you're happy to let your whole life be for him and his brother.
The two of you stay.
You stop asking for anything else from him.
ALLOW ME TO STAY IN MY ROOM AND WEAVE MY RAINBOWS. I WILL LOVE YOU TRULY.