where the sun went ; cf v. e v. mi / day six

I take great comfort in a night of rest. Alone. With Aspen by my side. And no one to mourn for once. It's not as though there's anything to celebrate, but -- 

maybe there is.

"Hey," I try to ease her anxiety, her restless hands and her tired heart. "We're alive." We lay side by side, tents foregone for closeness and I can't say I'm complaining. I enjoy her warmth, the feel of her weight against mine. I don't have to worry if I can feel her there. Reaching an arm across my chest I pull at her chin so I can look her in the eye. "We're alive," I say again firmly, with a nod before tucking a strand of her sun-kissed hair behind her ear. "I'm glad it's you," I can feel my cheeks flush as I confess something to her that I've kept close to my chest since the moment I first saw her: that whenever she's near, I feel better about life, even here and now. "That I'm here with," I finish awkwardly, breaking my glance away to rest my head back down on the ground. 

I'd hate if it were anyone else, I want to say so desperately, but I don't. I let the silence consume us and drift off into another dreamless sleep, though it's the most restful I've had since arriving here. And I think it's due in large part because of the proximity of my district partner. I feel her behind me all night, the steady thrum of her breathing reminding me I'm not alone in this hellscape.

• • •

The next morning greets us, but it's more disorienting than anything else. We know it's time to get up, our bodies unable to sleep for any longer, but our minds are confused. It's still dark, the sun still gone from the sky but the storm no longer raging. It feels like a dream. Or a nightmare, actually. Where the day is no longer safe, no longer bright and warm and a welcome relief from the terrors and beasts that hunt at night. It's a reminder that anything can and will happen. And it has. They've taken the day from us, told us there's no longer any relief. Not that we've made it this far. 

I suppose in some ways that's comforting knowledge to come by. We have made it this far, and Aspen and I should be proud. We're more grateful than anything else, though. To have survived. Not because we've placed at a certain rank, or made it to a certain day, but because this is life or death for the two of us. Because if we hadn't made it this far, we'd be dead and buried. Six feet under. Discarded by the Gamemakers and forgotten at this point, in favor of whoever had taken our places. 

That realization dries my mouth and I instantly chug the last of my fresh water, taking respite by the trunk of a tree for a few moments. I'm already getting tired, and I wouldn't hate just hiding out for a bit. In fact, I would love just one day where I didn't have to wield a weapon, where I didn't have to hurt anyone. 

"Hey, do you want to stop soon? Maybe make camp earl--"

So much for that.

I watch as familiar tributes push out past the tree line across the clearing and sigh deeply, disappointed in myself most of all. For thinking there would be any moment in this arena in which I could do something other than fight, and maim, and kill.. How stupid of me. Especially now.

Now that there's only half of us left. 

Normally I'd have to catch up to Aspie at this point. As soon as she sees an enemy, she doesn't hesitate. But there's something on the tip of her tongue as she looks back at me. And I listen as it turns out to be a confession. An admission of guilt. An asking of absolution despite the fact that I'm the last person capable of giving her such a thing. Not when there's so much blood on my hands as well.

"Listen," I turn to her and cup the sides of her face in my hands, trying to stop her manic words and ease her panicked movements all at once. "I don't care what you've done," I tilt my head slightly as I hook her gaze with mine and my insides melt at the sight of her hazel eyes. "I could never hate you, and especially not for something I've done, too." My hands fall slightly, resting on the nape of either side of her neck now and my heart races as I feel her pulse against my thumbs. Does she know my chest explodes whenever we're this close? 

"They won't say you were happy, I promise. But they might say I was," I try not to sound condescending, using her own words to prove a point. To say all the things I can't find the proper words to say. "Because I was with you," I murmur softly against her forehead as I lean in and place a kiss at her temple. "Do not go far from me," I say sternly, with a look I know she knows. A look that says please, just do what I ask without complaint but I know she's going to do what she does best: start a fight.

So I walk up beside her after she lunges with her spear, smirk on my face as I free my new toy from the bag on my back. I twirl the bat a few times before wrapping both palms around the handle to swing.

"Let's make this quick, yeah? I have things I'd rather be doing," I grumble, but my gaze turns toward Aspen and my eyes alight, because I swear all I see is the sun.

This is a bit of a filler for now bc my brain hurts and im tired xoxo

"That's him, isn't it?" I ask, looking over my shoulder as he just stands there, watching us. He doesn't strike, doesn't run at me with his sword or glaive or whatever it is he wields now. He's quiet, like a lion stalking its prey, and it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up straight. "She was his..." I don't finish the thought, the words turning to ash atop my tongue. There's no need to repeat it; all of us here know the sin I committed. "Why isn't he trying to kill me?" I do manage to ask, reaching out to touch Aspen's arm after she takes another swing at the boy from Ten. "I'd want me dead if I was him."

blah blah more reflection abt being a murderer sksksk

rah rah fight fight

Mostly a filler xoxo

- looks really confused as the girl from nine just completely stops fighting waverly and throws a random knife at him
- he's like um?? ok
- ignores her completely as aspen reaches out toward him when he stumbles forward
- he grits his teeth, stares fleur dead in the eyes and yanks the knife out of his leg and tosses it to the ground

"You'll have to try harder than that to kill me." 

- he swings his bat over his shoulder and hooks it back into his bag before pulling his axe free from its holster on his hip
- it feels more natural in his hands, like he's back at home, working at the lumberyard
- he has purpose there, always. he knows what he supposed to do, cut down trees and be quiet
- here, there are no rules, clearly. he looks down at the crimson staining the dirt between his feet and sighs
- will he ever get used to the sight of blood? probably not
- pointedly attacks thad while looking at fleur