𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡

twenty- one

Perched on the verdant grass at the water's edge, Treech's fingers absently plucked at the delicate petals of the nearby flowers. His mind was a tumultuous whirlwind, grappling with the aftermath of the harrowing ordeal he had endured within the confines of the arena.

Each petal he detached seemed to mirror the fragments of memories that relentlessly plagued his thoughts, the vivid recollections of the fierce battles and close encounters flooding his mind with unnerving frequency. Despite the tranquil surroundings of the lake, he found it increasingly challenging to anchor himself back to the semblance of normalcy he once knew.

Guilt weighed heavy on his heart as he replayed the events in his mind, each moment etched with painful clarity. He remembered turning on Lamina, their vicious attacks tearing her apart before his very eyes. He should have intervened, should have fought tooth and nail to save her. But he froze, paralyzed by fear and indecision, as his dearest friend met her tragic end.

In his eyes, it was his fault. He had failed Lamina, failed to keep his promise to protect her. She should have won. But instead, she lay cold and lifeless, a silent testament to his shortcomings and his inadequacies.

As the vehicle rumbled towards the station, Treech leaned in closer to Lamina, his voice laced with determination and reassurance.

"We'll stick together, alright?" he vowed, his words a solemn promise amidst the uncertainty of their situation.

Tears welled up in Lamina's eyes, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggled to compose herself. With a shaky nod, she managed to choke out a response.

"O-okay," she whispered, her faith in Treech's words offering a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded them.

With unwavering resolve, Treech squeezed Lamina's hand gently, his gaze filled with a fierce determination.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he vowed, his voice a steadfast declaration of his commitment to protecting her at all costs.

Regret weighed heavily on Treech's shoulders, a burden he couldn't shake off no matter how hard he tried.

Adding another layer of complexity to his burdens, he found himself faced with the daunting task of letting Cordelia go. The mere sight of her, after years spent musing over that fateful day, stirred within him a surreal mixture of emotions.

...

Returning home later, his mother beckoned him to accompany her on an errand, and he acquiesced without protest.

Taking a seat amidst the imposing surroundings, Treech's eyes wandered, tracing the intricate patterns of the ceiling as the steady ebb and flow of visitors filled the air with a palpable energy. Yet, amidst the bustling crowd, it was a singular voice that pierced through the ambient noise, drawing his attention like a beacon in the darkness. With a curious tilt of his head, he followed the sound, his gaze alighting upon a figure, their back turned to him.

A surge of disbelief swept over him. She was supposed to be confined within the walls of the Capitol, yet here she stood before him, defying all expectations. As she turned around, a faint yet unmistakable smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Cordelia?" His voice, laced with a mixture of astonishment and curiosity, hung in the air, drawing her attention like a magnet. With a graceful turn of her head, she acknowledged the call of her name and glided towards him with an air of quiet confidence.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone a blend of incredulity and intrigue, as he sought to unravel the mystery of her unexpected presence.

"I ran away." Cordelia confessed, her voice carrying a tremor of vulnerability. "I couldn't live with myself knowing you were here."