Premonition of a Broken Heir [Harper Le Roux Oneshot]

The smell of rain and flora will never mend what will be lost.

No matter how many times he lights the candle, stands next to punching bag after punching bag, severs dummies' heads, and breaks fake limbs; nothing makes him feel better. Silk Le Roux was- no is- will always be the heiress to this family. A strong leader above the rest of their siblings to guide into adulthood and whatever would be met with adulthood, but none of that remains. Nothing remains in the blood of what could have been. Instead, he's clutching broken knuckles, calloused hands, and the smell of rain and flora. The only thing left is the body of Silk Le Roux and the anger he has for Ridley Le Roux. Harper had watched his sister die and for what? A pathetic seven to keep fighting for the crown that always will belong to Silk Le Roux.

It wasn't fair.

It was never going to be fair.

His blood soaked hands clenched by his sides as he stares at the screen where Silk Le Roux falls over and over again. Eurydice wouldn't appreciate his fall from grace in these trying moments, where he's alone in a training area, wanting to break the bones of every single person who's failed him and led him to having the one thing he never wanted to have. Harper should have taken their spots. Emmett. Silk. It should have been him standing before all of Panem with the god given smile his mother and father gave him to blind all of Panem. He'd die all the same, but Silk and Emmett could have become bigger than himself.

What's there to Harper Le Roux's name?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

An egotist with an eye for aesthetics, but nothing substantial. Isn't it funny? Harper Le Roux, the charmer of the family, the man who could talk himself out of any situation, was the least substantial of them all. Just another rich career kid with a family filled with legacies and expectations; ones that he'll never met. The newly proclaimed heir to Eurydice Le Roux after Silk Le Roux died. Memories of his older sister flooding each room of their home. Two spots missing at the dinner table. Another sword resting in it's holding place for training; a sword meant for Silk Le Roux. An empty bedroom that Harper's been in one too many times since Silk's left looking for answers he'll never be able to answer himself.

Silk wouldn't have liked him sneaking into there. Hell, she would have kicked his ass for it, but no one had to know he missed her dearly as a brother should. One seemed off kilter without Silk Le Roux watching them, judging them with her critical eye. Mother had seen it as Silk's duty to the family, but Harper would give anything to have taken it from her. He's still not certain the effects Silk's death will cause to the rest of them, but he's already broken. Standing in a field of rain and flora, pretending like he's not the one with a new title of heir.

Emerson or whoever was next could take it.

Harper Le Roux didn't want to have all the responsibilities.

The lime light is all he's ever known. Born to smile in the way that melts people's hearts and shows their kinks in their armor. Everyone's bent over backwards for him, except his siblings and parents. The lime light was always the place he belonged, but he was never meant to be the only one there. No, he was only there as a supporting character. The person who builds up the others in the lime light. He couldn't stand on his own. Never once standing out or fitting in; he was always known as the picture perfect. A pretty item to be shown outwardly to anyone, but there's no substance to him. Just another pretty boy with a pretty smile.

"Harper."

Sweat dripping from his brow, blood coating the punching bag as he pushes onwards. The voice from someone he didn't dare listen to stopping. Harper Le Roux hated everything about what he's been left with. The memories of his sister where they spent time sparring over and over again. His desire to never stray into the desperation of the lower district's fighting style in his swordplay. The flurry of a disguised strike with the flair of his own lack of remorse. Days spent where Silk destroyed him with ease, but always a familiarity of knowing. A feeling of knowing they were improving one another, whether it was perfect or not. Silk had always been his big sister and will always stay his big sister. All of the childhood respect and desire to be just like her melting around him.

One by one, he punches the bag harder, faster, and desperate. Desperation wasn't pretty for a man like him. Harper Le Roux has never had to be desperate in all of his life, but right now, he was desperate to burn this feeling up. Eat it alive and never have to feel it again. Emmett had hurt, but Silk had broken him in a different way. The emptiness in his heart felt bigger and he was lost in all of it. The sound of the punching bag colliding with the bar, fingers bruising a dark purple and the pain blossoming like the soft flora smell of the room.

"Harper!"

A pest.

"Get out."

Mistakes have been made. Weaknesses that only Harper Le Roux had were there. A girl with a name, but one he can't even remember. A silent night filled with an escape from the emptiness of his own grief. Silk would hate her. Silk would have told him to knock it off. Silk would have told him to act like a Le Roux. His fingers tighten in fists around his side, the girl continues to stay, but she doesn't speak. Annoyance present on his face as he continues to punch once, twice, and thrice. It's dead quiet in the room, until he can hear the words slip past her lips.

"I'm pregnant."

Harper Le Roux has already failed.

Failed before he could even take the title of heir.

"No. You fucking aren't."

He drops his fists, green eyes staring through her. His heart stopping in his chest as he can remember all of his brothers and sisters as babies. The days he can remember holding Emmett Le Roux in his own hands and feeling like he could be a big brother to him. The days when he swore he could protect them all from the world around them. Standing with bruised bleeding knuckles, he stares at a girl who was slightly older than him. Pleasantly attractive, but nowhere near perfect enough for the Le Roux family. Staring at her, he can see the failure of his own hands for not being safe enough.

For not being perfect, like the gems he claimed they all were.

"But I-"

His voice breaks through, strong and menacingly with no remorse.

"Listen to me. You aren't pregnant. You can't be pregnant."

Fear.

Harper Le Roux realizes for the first time in his life, he's afraid. Afraid of being a failure. It's a ploy. One that he's certain of. Everyone wanted a piece of the Le Roux Family. Real or not, this could break his family's reputation. Lose any credibility that they have, so he does the only thing he knows left. He stares through her and waits for a moment. He reads the ways she stands before him in the training center with eyes desperate and cold. Harper Le Roux is afraid of losing everything. Being a father would be easy, but the fear of being a father to an outcast, an imperfect child who would never be a Le Roux in anything, but name.

He didn't want it to be his legacy.

"You aren't pregnant. Get the fuck out of here."

His fingers tightening as he raises his voice, eyes coldly staring.

"Now!"

The smell of rain and flora do nothing to mend what is already lost.

Isn't it perfect?

Harper Le Roux; Broken Heir of the Le Roux Family.

A failure, just like his brother and sister.

Eurydice was going to kill him.