𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊 | 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡

twenty seven

Perched on a soft towel spread across the lush grass, Treech observed the lively antics of River, Poppy, Oliver, and Boyce as they played in the shimmering waters nearby. Despite the proximity to the playful chaos, they carved out a small sanctuary for themselves, a tranquil bubble amidst the exuberant laughter and splashes.

Yet, beneath the facade of contentment, a shadow of disappointment lingered in Treech's expression. His desire for an intimate day with Cordelia, free from distractions and obligations, clashed with the reality of their shared space with his siblings and the energetic Mason children. As he stole glances at Cordelia, a longing for moments of solitude with her tugged at his heart, mingling with the frustration of having to cater to the needs of others on this particular outing. And the prospect of escorting them to yet another lake only added to his sense of disillusionment.

Cordelia's lips curled into a tender smile as she observed the children playing in the midst of their harsh surroundings. Their laughter echoed through the air, a beacon of resilience amidst adversity. Despite the unforgiving environment they inhabited, their spirits remained unbroken, their smiles a testament to the indomitable human spirit.

Reflecting on her own path, Cordelia's thoughts drifted back to her childhood, a time when she had forged her own convictions about motherhood. From a tender age, she had harbored a certainty that the path of parenthood was not one meant for her. Though the Capitol offered safety and comfort, she refused to conform to societal expectations, steadfast in her resolve to resist the notion of molding children into mere reflections of societal norms.

"You know my brother has a thing for you," Oliver confessed, his tone betraying a mix of amusement and bewilderment.

Cordelia's brows furrowed in confusion, her gaze shifting to the boy beside her. "What?" she questioned, her voice laced with incredulity.

"Treech," Oliver clarified with a nonchalant shrug, as if the matter were as plain as day. "He's got a serious crush on you. Like, like likes you. It's kind of gross, to be honest. Ever since you arrived, he's been practically glued to you. I swear, whenever you're around, he can't take his eyes off you. And don't even get me started on how often your name pops up in his conversations, especially when you're not around," he added with a wry chuckle, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

Cordelia's cheeks blazed with a deep crimson hue as she racked her brain for the right words. "I don't believe he sees me in that way. We're just friends," she stammered, her voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

Oliver scoffed, "Treech, in my ten years of living, has never brought a friend, let alone, a girl home, and that says a lot," Oliver elucidated, his words steeped in a blend of observation and inference, emphasizing the rarity of Treech's actions. His gaze lingered thoughtfully, as if unraveling the intricacies of his brother's behavior. "He also seems calmer around you. When he got back from the games, he was different. He was sad, angry. Shut himself into our sister's room and didn't come out for days and when he did, he left without a word to wherever he went."

Oliver grasped the gravity of Treech's experiences within the arena, yet the depth of its impact remained elusive to him. Despite his earnest attempts at comprehension, he found himself standing on the precipice of understanding, unable to fully fathom the depths of Treech's emotional wounds. His parents, their voices laced with concern and wisdom, sought to impart upon him the harsh reality of Treech's altered state, urging him to navigate this unfamiliar terrain with empathy and patience.

"He went through a lot. Give him to adjust." Cordelia's words resonated with a somber truth, carrying with them a plea for Oliver to extend compassion and understanding to his brother, whose spirit bore the scars of a harrowing journey through the crucible of the arena.