La ballade d'une Ballerine : a Treech fanfiction

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Twenty-eight s'installer

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Delyth seamlessly settled into the rhythm of life in District 7 with Treech's family. With each passing day, she embraced a new sense of purpose and belonging.

In all honesty, Delyth had never taken charge of anything in her life. Tasks had always been tended to by others, leaving her unfamiliar with the simplest of skills.

Treech's mother guided her through the intricacies of working in the lumber industry, teaching her the skills required for the job. And under her patient guidance , Delyth embarked on the culinary journey, her novice hands learning the intricacies of cooking. The kitchen became a place of discovery, filled with laughter, occasional mishaps, and the savory aroma of shared lessons in preparing meals.

In the evenings, Treech's father patiently introduced Delyth to the art of woodcraft, passing down generations of knowledge. As they worked together, she discovered the therapeutic nature of carving and crafting. The small spare room in the cabin became her sanctuary, adorned with woodwork that told stories of her newfound skills.

She found an unexpected but cherished connection with Blossom. Their friendship bloomed gradually, fueled by shared experiences, laughter, and a mutual understanding of the challenges they faced. Blossom would often take Delyth to The Timbered Hearth, a lively pub that echoed with the beats of live music and bustled with a vibrant atmosphere, it captivated Delyth. It stood out as a unique experience, unlike anything she had encountered before.

Through these shared experiences, Delyth not only learned the practicalities of life in District 7 but also absorbed the warmth of a family that had welcomed her with open arms. The collective teachings became a mosaic, blending into her identity and connecting her to a life she had never imagined possible.

However, Treech, despite the victory in the Hunger Games, found himself entangled in the aftermath. The weight of the lives lost and the brutality he witnessed haunted him, casting shadows in the corners of his thoughts.

After the Hunger Games, Treech struggled to return to a normal life, feeling like an outsider in a world that once seemed familiar. Despite the celebratory atmosphere, the mental scars from the Games lingered, serving as a constant reminder of the toll they took on those involuntarily thrust into the deadly arena.

Haunted by memories, Treech struggled to find peace in the lone nights. The absence of Delyth's comforting presence left a void, and sleep became a battle against troubling images. The soothing rhythm of her breathing and the warmth she brought were sorely missed, making rest a challenging endeavor for him.

Coriolanus Snow had been in District 7 for two weeks, and there was still no sign of Delyth. He couldn't fathom where she might be.

Despite his duties as a peacekeeper, Coriolanus found his mind persistently wandering to thoughts of Delyth. The weight of his role contrasted sharply with the lingering thoughts of the girl he couldn't seem to forget.

The whispers of the Capitol were clear – they adored the tale of Treech and Delyth, the girl captivated by a tribute, their escape resonating as a romantic saga that captivated the hearts of the Capitol residents.

Their perspectives fueled his resentment even further.

Jealousy coursed through Coriolanus like a toxic undercurrent. The Capitol's adoration for Treech and Delyth's love story only intensified his envy, a bitter taste in his mouth as he grappled with the loss of control over their narrative.

The very thing he sought to manipulate had slipped from his grasp, and the rising tide of resentment and jealousy fueled his growing obsession with the girl who dared to elude his influence.

Given a rare day off, Coriolanus found respite at The Timbered Hearth. Eager for distraction and camaraderie, he accepted the invitation from his peacekeeper comrades without hesitation.

Upon arrival, he headed straight for the bar, ordering a shot without much thought. The burn of the liquid served as a welcomed distraction, momentarily eclipsing the persistent thoughts of Delyth that lingered in the corners of his mind.

The pub was rustic and inviting, it boasted a warm atmosphere enhanced by the scent of freshly cut timber. The walls adorned with aged wood paneling, and the low hum of conversations intermingled with the lively tunes of live music.

Soft, warm lighting cast a comforting glow over the worn wooden tables, where people gathered to share tales and laughter. It was a haven for the community.

In the midst of the lively crowd, his gaze fixated on a particular girl who danced gracefully with a brunette. Her radiant blonde hair stood out amid the sea of darker tones, capturing his attention in the rhythmic sway of the dance.

Her dancing exuded elegance as she gracefully moved across the floor. Her every step seemed to synchronize with the rhythm of the music, and her body flowed with a natural grace. The subtle sways and twirls of her movements painted an image of sophistication, capturing the attention of those around her.

Her blonde hair, catching the dim lights, added a touch of glamour to the enchanting dance, leaving onlookers mesmerized by her elegance.

Coriolanus found himself captivated, unable to tear his gaze away from her. However, when he witnessed a drunken man encroaching on her personal space, his resolve solidified, prompting him to rise from his seat.

His eyes followed the unfolding chaos as the man who had accompanied the brunette tried to intervene, triggering a brawl that quickly escalated.

Amidst the commotion, Coriolanus focused on the blonde, alarmed as she attempted to evade danger, only to be seized by the persistent drunkard who continued to harass her.

With determination etched on his face, Coriolanus forged ahead, enduring the punch from an unexpected assailant.

Undeterred, he closed in on the duo, swiftly seizing the man by the back of his top. Fueled by a surge of frustration, he unleashed a barrage of punches, aiming to free the blonde from the clutches of her aggressor.

"Coryo?"