I Wish You Would [Aurora/Arthur]

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

a r t h u r .

"I've been to hell and back
Golden hour faded black
Say that it ain't coming back
Ain't coming back"

What even was this place?

Little rectangular pads that every time he lay a finger on them spouted different titles, with pages upon digital pages of text. Hard copies hung on shelves along the outside perimeter because clearly someone had a raging boner for wasteful printing, when it was more than a little obvious the world was advanced to have moved to holograms and bringing people back from the dead. But then, some people loved vintage, so Arthur figured he couldn’t fault them for that.

Well, he would fault them, but he doubted as someone that would likely be dead in the coming week whoever had built this place would care about his opinion all that much.

He walked up and down the aisles to browse the histories and fiction – he wasn’t quite sure how to distinguish anything that claimed to have been written prior to the dark days, considering all that stuff was supposed to have been destroyed. That and the fact that capitol was so willing and eager to guzzle down their own lies he imagined most of it was regurgitated propaganda.

Arthur took one of the readers from the shelve and made his way toward the center of the library where some marble tables had been arranged with twenty-four chairs. Perhaps at some point they’d demanded the tributes actually study in games history? Must’ve been years ago, considering how yellowed some of the books had become.

He spotted the girl from – six? – stalking along the rows and looped back toward her.

“Yo! You believe all of this? They probably have the whole of human history locked away in this room and not a single person cares about it.” Arthur shook his head. What they would’ve given back in three just to have an ounce of what likely sat in this room. “Feels like that tells you all you need to know about the people here.”

elegant

[k!ah]

a u r o r a .


*   *   *

Fingers run along the spines of the books, my eyes dancing over titles, over authors, as I lose myself in my thoughts. Books were underrated. Often looked over for a source of entertainment, and the training center library was proof of that. There were rows and rows of books on shelves that were double my height and I seemed to be the only one slipping through the gaps. I didn't pretend to busy myself with books on fiction, following a love story that I would never get the chance to experience, instead, I flick open covers that explain history- even though it was extremely one-sided, it was still fascinating.

Slipping a book from the shelf the silence is shattered, my eyes turning to lock with the boy from three, “Yo! You believe all of this? They probably have the whole of human history locked away in this room and not a single person cares about it.” He shakes his head and I can't help but feel a surge of annoyance at the accusation. I knew I was being sensitive, I was moody and didn't have the patience to deal with some history snob. “Feels like that tells you all you need to know about the people here.”

Valid point, but I flick my hair over my shoulder as I give him a pointed look, "what am I then?" I flick open the book titled 'The first Rebellion'. I don't know why I pushed back at him, maybe I was simply looking for an argument, pent-up frustration and exhaustion enough to have me lashing out for some sort of relief. "I bet you are the sort of kid who never bothered with opening a book at school, too self-absorbed to care about what came before you."

I was being harsh, but I couldn't stop myself because focusing my annoyance on him had me not thinking about the next couple of weeks for the first time since setting foot in the Capitol.

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

a r t h u r .

"I've been to hell and back
Golden hour faded black
Say that it ain't coming back
Ain't coming back"

"Rebellions. Huh. Not a lot of that happening here I don’t think.” I gave a shrug at the title of the book.

Everyone assumed that because he had a little bit of swagger and might’ve talked like a kid from the sockets – the outlying part of three where the menial laborers and their families lived – he hadn’t any interest in books. And they were half right. It hadn’t been that he hated reading, it was that every page of his schoolbooks was awash in lies and fiction, incomplete of contributions from people who’d been erased from history. What trust could he have had in books written by people whose purpose had been obscure the truth?

That and he balked at the stories people liked to tell. He much preferred comic books or pulp serials than overblown novels. The purple prose really got to him after a while.

“You know you’re right about one thing, I’d have probably not even given you a second glance, sweetheart.” Arthur said, still looking down at the pad. “But then I guess if you’re in here you were the type that thought spending time in fantasy land was so much better than being with your friends, eh?”

He looked up from the pad with a small smile.

“Or did you not have any friends? Were you the type that was so much more mature than the rest of us, you spent most of your time with the teacher?” He moved to scratch his chin like he’d started to unravel a great mystery. “More emotionally mature than your peers even if you can’t make much of a conversation with anyone your own age, right?”

He looked back down at his reader and started swiping again. “They really don’t have any history that goes back further than he dark days, huh…”

elegant