IN WHICH,
The boy who frequents your father's workshop carves a place for himself in your heart.
'He's looking at you. He's looking at you as if you're his whole world. If anyone could see him right now, they would immediately understand one thing:...
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Despite District 7 being known for the down-to-earth, realistic attributes of its citizens, no one would ever pass on the opportunity to celebrate. In the lumber division, a festival to welcome the summer months had been an upheld tradition long before the agreement between the Capitol and the Districts. It had taken a lot of convincing to allow this celebration to take place, but under the guise of it 'boosting morale,' it had managed to flourish beneath the Capitol's watchful eye. Not many things did. The dictatorship fashion of the Capitol would pluck out any threats to their rules as easily as tearing out a blossoming flower from the ground. This ensured that no one would ever dream of resisting them and their wicked reign. Only by destroying the sparks of rebellion would you possess power over the districts.
To hope is a dangerous thing. For common folk like you and everyone else who resided in the districts, hope connected you all in a way that transcended the walls of the divisions. The hope that one day children could roam free without having the fear of imminent death looming over their heads. The hope that one day bringing children into this world would be considered a blessing, and not a curse for the child. The hope that one day the Capitol would pay for their heinous crimes towards humanity.
All these heavy thoughts of your reality weighed upon your mind but were silenced by the situation before you: the long-awaited summer festival, in all its glory.
Spirits were running high, and sounds of buzzing and laughter resonated with everyone that it was truly summer. With the sun delicately peeking through the tree branches, it was like the whole of District 7 had been brought to life, basking in the radiance of the sunshine.
"Hey there, darlin'."
Instantly, a smile blooms on your face. It's him. It's always been him.
Brown curls appear from right behind you, paired with eyes that basked you with affection and nothing less. His hands are placed firmly around your shoulders as he flashes you one of his charming grins. Your view of him is suddenly impaired when he places his hat on your head.
"Happy summer fest."
He looks at you, strolling with you through the streets animated with life. Somehow, the way he gazed at you even now vaguely resembled how your mother and father looked at each other. A look entirely of adoration.
As you situate his hat properly onto your head, he points out interesting things along the street. A new stall, a crafting stand, different cuisines.
Soon, the crowds begin to congregate towards the centre in a fanciful manner. As the sound of the music begins to increase, the force of it somehow attracts the masses of people into the heart of the district in an almost entrancing sense. With the reverberation of guitars and the sweet melodies of violins, it was almost natural how your hand wound around Treech's.
"Care to dance?" You ask, directing your question to the boy whose hand you were holding.
He smiles at you sweetly, before his head shakes in a motion meaning no.
"I'm not a dancer."
Treech pleads, but this doesn't stop you from dragging him to where the life of the party is. He just smiles, having expected this and allowing you to bring him over. Normally, he wouldn't bother with dancing. But with you, how could he say anything to disagree with you? The way you held his hand so tightly, and the way you looked at him with a playful glint in your eyes. Who was he to say no?
His hand finds its way to your waist, following your movements as the music begins to overwhelm you both. It was as if life was pumping through your veins, instilling in you a sense of belonging. If you hadn't felt part of District 7 before, you did now. The music enveloped you both and you felt so perfectly suited to being right there, in his arms.
Even as the sun finally relents to the will of the moon, the festivities continue, refusing to be controlled by external conditions. A veil of night paints the sky, accompanied with shattered fragments of light which twinkled in their assigned places. The stars performed their own show, a performance exclusive to those who took the time to notice. You were given the rare opportunity to admire the work of the celestials. Untouchable fireflies littered the sky, serving as specks of light in the infinite canvas of night.
To be here, next to him, was so vulnerable. Your guard had crumbled long ago, and now your hand was wrapped around his the same way it was before. Earlier, the two of you had made a getaway from the party, hand in hand. Just two teenagers in love, and it felt like the world was yours. Settling on a hill, your gaze drifted from the warm glow of the flames along the street to the gleaming sky.
"It's beautiful, don't you think?" You mention, urging to pour your heart out in an effort to express the beauty of the unknown.
"...Yeah. It is." Treech replies, but his eyes aren't even looking up, just trained onto you. Slowly, he takes in the moment and begins to look up before laughing softly, "Wow. It really is."
You scold him jokingly. It's not the first time he's been too distracted by you. It was hard to be mad at him though, with how earnestly he meant everything he said. His being was just full of love, for you. If he was by your side, perhaps everything would be fine.
"The Reaping is in a week." He mentions, and for a second you feel your optimistic hopes for a life with him fade. Gazing at you with his amber hued eyes, he grasps your hands tightly. "I promise I'll see you as often as I can. In between my work shifts. No matter what."
"There's thousands of children in our district." You pause, "There's a small chance we'll be chosen, right?"
"I knew you'd say that." Treech breaks a smile, and he instantly shifts to another topic. "So, tell me about the stars. Come on darlin', I saw the way you looked at them."
His eyes are focused onto you, never really leaving your figure. You laugh softly at how easily he could lighten the mood.
"Alright, just because you asked!!"
He returns a smile, adjusting his hat that still was on the top of your head from before. All he could think about that moment was how well the look suited you. You in his hat. He'd give everything for you if he could.
As you go off on a tangent about the celestial works above, he can't help himself. Leaning in, he closes the distance between you two.
"Sorry. Couldn't get enough of you last time."
He was going to kill you one day with the amount of affection he'd offered you. But perhaps that could be excused. After all, it was the two of you against the world.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE!!
omg im in a little bit of a rush so this chapter isn't double checked (but neither are the other chapters </3)
life update im going to an arctic monkeys tribute concert tmrw im so excited!!
on another note im questioning my morality everyone don't you think it would be so cute and tragic if one of them died and the other has to learn to survive without them but how can they when everything reminds them of the person they love
