flowers and chocolates {ezrabel}

[[nyte]]

e z r a

It still feels too good to be true. Hell, I don't even believe it sometimes, even when making my way down the street with my arm wrapped around Ezabel. Everything has changed and yet nothing at all. He was still Eza, my best friend. He knew everything about me and I knew everything about him. We could read each other like an open book and it had always been like that. I was terrified, really, that us becoming something more would ruin everything. I'd never had a boyfriend and I sure as hell had no fucking idea how that shit worked. The best feeling is not needing to. Everything came naturally with the sweet, soft-spoken boy. I wasn't scared to pull him towards me, to kiss him, I wasn't nervous when I slept next to him. It was a blessing to wake up with the most beautiful boy in all of Panem in my arms. I'm head over heels and I love every second. 

Work's a bitch, but I've been moving up. My reading has gotten better, sort of. I have to sound out the words in my head and sound them out aloud, but it's better than nothing. For the most part, words still look like a fucking mess of weird ass symbols that some drunk decided to scribble on his note pad one late evening. I don't really need to read anyway, it pays the bills and it feeds me and that fatass cat. 

Sometimes I wanna steal Ezabel away from the Sycamores. 'Cause on the nights I don't have him I feel cold, like a snowstorm has wafted through the window although it's sealed tight. It's for the best, though. I want the kid to have a real family and I know I can't be all that. I've not asked him how he feels about his housemate goin' off to the games. (What was his name? Blaire?) But I'll sure as hell never forget the panic I felt when I heard the name Sycamore ring across the District Square. I don't think I've ever held onto that boy tighter.

I've been saving up for something special though. It took me a little while, 'cause I've gotta pay for the fucking water every goddamned month. (Since when was having running water a fucking luxury?) But I've finally done it. I'm gonna take my best friend, my boyfriend, out on a real date. My hands rest upon the counter and an elderly man smiles down at me. "How can I help you?" 

"Yeah uh, I'd like ta make a reservation for two?" 

"And when will that be?" He regards me with skeptecism, an unspoken question flickering within his eyes And can you afford it?

Fuck yeah I can. "'Bout six I'd say." 

"Very well, would you like to be seated under the stars for twenty dollars extra? Romantic for any young man and his lady." 

I smirk,trying not to burst out laughing at the old fashioned coot's assumptions. I weigh the options in my head. "Why not." 

"Very well Mr. -" 

"Ezra." 

"And your last name?" 

"Just Ezra." 

I never took myself for the romantic kind, but I think I've outdone myself. On my way home from making the reservations I picked out a bunch of roses. The red kind and the white kind too, 'cause they remind me of Ezabel. They're tied with a little yellow ribbon. He won't be home this time of day and so I entered through the window just like I always do. A little white card came with the flowers and I still can't write too well, but I manage a sloppy message.

My place at 5 p.m. dress nice. c; 

- E

I add the smile for good measure and leave the flowers upon his pillow. 

Nice depends on the interpretation. Having lived in Four for eight years it seems I'd somehow left all my belongings there. (Go figure). I've had to start from scratch ever since returning. It's been a little time consuming keeping my own ass off of the street, so I haven't been interested in the latest fashion. The best I can manage is a black shirt with a deep collar and jeans. I hope Ezabel is okay with it. I, for a fact, am okay with anything he wears or doesn't.

Salmon gives a pathetic mrrow as I make my way towards the door. "Oh you little shit I'll be back with Ezabel soon. Don't be so annoying." I scratch him gently behind the ears and he rubs his cheek against mine. Adorable little fuck. 

I stand outside of the door, leaning against the wall as I wait. My hair is combed back with a bit of water, unusual as I normally don't give two fucks. But I really am trying to look nice. 

This was for Ezabel after all, my boyfriend.

(I don't think I'll ever get tired of saying it.) 

[Python]

Ezabel Sycamore

Ezabel chewed on his pencil eraser. His handwriting was improving immensely, his tutor had claimed, but compared the man’s neat, artistic scribbles, his own writing looked like a mess of unrolled yarn. He was surprised Mr. Brown could comprehend it at all. He could recognize his own attempts at drawing each individual letter from the alphabet, but it was dreadful in comparison to everything else. Mr. Brown said one day he would be able to write exactly like him, and that was what he would work for. However, his main reason for attending these private lessons (free of charge; a favor to the Sycamore family, or perhaps a pity instead because of their recent losses) was reading. He just wanted to learn how to read signs and books. Mr. Brown insisted that writing was just as important, and that it would help him practice learning words. Ezabel trusted the man’s judgment. If only everything wasn’t so tedious.

”Tomorrow’s your break day,” the old man said softly. He was in his early fifties, and always wore suits to their lessons even though it was just him and Ezabel sitting in a tiny office. It smelled like moth balls and really old perfume, probably because it was Mr. Brown’s house, all crowded with stuff that needed to be dusted. Ezabel didn’t mind it; it was homey, even if all of the decorations felt old fashioned. ”So I’ll see you the day after? Same time?” He took Ezabel’s scribble paper and regarded it with interest. It was just his name written over and over again, because that was the word he could write best. That, and Ezra’s name.

”Yes sir.”

They exchanged their goodbyes, and he left Mr. Brown’s house with a cinnamon cookie in his mouth. It was sweet and crunchy, and he devoured it before he even reached the end of the block. It was a bit of a walk to the Sycamore property, but he didn’t mind. Their house could be very unsettling from the inside, mainly because it was always eerily silent until Lilith called them down for dinner or Ara started to wail. A breath of fresh air was always a relief to his senses, especially when he was still on the property. It always smelled like pine.

He stayed silent as he slipped through the front door. Everything had been deathly quiet since the Reaping. Ezabel didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t want to watch the Games and see someone he had lived with getting hurt by other kids, but he also didn’t want to disrespect the family by ignoring it. Fortunately, the television wasn’t on, and he could slink upstairs without detection.

The first thing he always did was flop against his bed, but today there was something different waiting for him. A bouquet of flowers was resting against his pillow. Roses, red and white, tied with a thin yellow ribbon. Ezabel cupped his hands over his face and smiled until his cheeks began to ache because he already knew who it was from, and he couldn’t wait to look at the little piece of paper that was attached to it. It always felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest when Ezra did nice things for him. He didn’t deserve it, but Ezra always insisted he did. Suppressing an excited giggle (he often embarrassed himself when he was alone, but luckily Ezra never saw him react like this), he plucked the note from his pillow and glanced at the symbols. They were words. Ezra had been learning how to read and write too.

Now he just had to focus.

My.

His, his something.

Place. Place?

Location? His location? Oh, his apartment.

5 pm, that’s a time. I know numbers.

Dress, something girls wear. Nice, like kind and sweet. Dress nice, does he mean nice dress? That doesn’t make sense.

Oh, dress nicely. I’m supposed to dress up.

The winking smile at the end made his stomach flutter. What was he dressing up for? And how nice was he supposed to look?

He checked his watch and threw open his closet doors. His nicest shirt was a blue button up with a collar, so he matched that with a pair of long jeans and his new sneakers. Then he combed his hair in front of the mirror until his habitual watch-checking warned him that he was about to start running late if he didn’t leave soon. With a deep, nervous breath, he climbed out through the window to avoid detection and questions (not that any of them really cared). Ezra’s apartment was not too bad of a walk, but he didn’t want to rush or else he would start sweating in his nice shirt and ruin everything.

When he reached the premises, Ezra was already waiting for him. Ezabel timidly smiled and looked at his feet.

”Hi.”

[[nyte]]

e z r a

I've never really known what beauty is 'til he walks in front of me with a shy smile on his lips. "Hi." he looks towards his shoes but I'm already pulling the taller boy towards me, wrapping my arms around him and never wanting to let go. My hand cups the back of his neck, pulling him towards me so that I can press my lips against his cheek. An' I'm smiling from ear to ear because I've been wanting to do that for far too long now. We've got some time to kill before we gotta be at the restaurant and I wanna keep this as much of a surprise as I can manage. Holding Ezabel close to me has always been the best feeling in the world. He's warm and soft against me it makes my head spin and my heart race. We've been together a little while not but every time I see him it's like my heart skips a thousand beats. 

"You look wonderful, Eza. I'm so glad you're here." and I mean every word. My hand finds his, entwining our fingers gently as I pull him onto the street. I hope I'm not making him nervous, by being so vague, but I want this surprise to be just that. We lived on the streets for a real long time, surviving off the rations that the soup kitchen gave us. We slept in a tent on even the coldest of nights and he used that damn cat-piss blanket 'til I got there. Maybe I'm not a saint, but I've done all I can to keep Ezabel safe. I don't wanna be a superhero, I'm not here to save lives or to uphold some fucking stupid morality when we send kids off to die every goddamn year. I'm here to protect him. It's a lot more selfish than you'd think. 

His fingers are a lot longer than mine, they reach way past my knuckles while the pads of my fingers can easily trace the snowy mountains on the back of his palm. I'm a lot smaller than Ezabel and it still takes me some getting used to. Back when we were kids, before I'd bolted, I was the big one. I was the one that towered above Ezabel and who could pull him into my chest when I hugged him. I wish I'd gotten to enjoy that time some more. Leaving was the stupidest thing I ever did. 

But, I think if I had the chance to change it I wouldn't. Running away made me who I am. A fucking selfish idiot who's too aggressive and has seen too much. But I've learned a lot, I met Angel and raised Salmon in that time. I became Ezra and not just that fucking orphan that everyone pitied. I left Ezabel all alone and i'll never forgive myself for that, but he became a damn fine man without me. I just gotta tell myself that on the nights I can't sleep for worrying about him too much. 

Ezabel doesn't tell me much about the Sycamores. I don't like to ask much 'cause it makes me jealous. Like I said, if it wasn't better for him I'd have stolen the boy away long ago. It's stupid really, the kinda twinge I get when I see someone's eyes linger on Ezabel. And a part of me knows he'd never do anything like that, Eza doesn't have a mean bone in his body to begin with, but I can't help pulling him a bit closer. Can't help but throw my hand around his waist and lean into him because he's mine and I'm his and I want everyone to know. 

I've been pulling him along for a while now, excitement rivaling a child's on his way to a birthday party. I keep promising him that it's gonna be great and that I've got the best thing planned for the both of us but he's not allowed to know. Honestly, I feel like an immature asshole holding it over his head but I can't wait to prove to him that we ain't poor anymore. That I can take him to the nicest goddamn restaurant if I want, and you know what I will! 

But I stop for a second, and even though the world around us keeps bustling about I pull him close to me. The world can keep speeding on but we're stuck in slow motion, just for this moment. I pull him close, so close that our lips nearly touch. "You know I love you, right?" 

[Python]

Ezabel Sycamore

Ezra always knew what to do. He slipped his arms around Ezabel’s neck and pecked his cheek affectionately, prompting the boy to smile and feel like his usual giddy and comfortable self. Whenever he snuck over to Ezra’s apartment to spend the night, or whenever Ezra climbed into the Sycamore house to meet him in his bedroom he always felt nervous, like it was a whole new experience. It was, but they had been together for quite a while now, yet the thought of Ezra coming over to kiss and cuddle him in the dark always knotted his nerves. However, once Ezra was actually there and they were nestled in each other’s embrace his nerves straightened themselves out. He would feel normal again, like doing these things with him was the most natural thing in the world.

He smiled warmly against him and felt just that – comfortable and instinctive. The height difference was always an interesting quirk, since Ezra was usually the initiator. Ezabel simply followed along and settled his arms around Ezra’s waist. ”You look wonderful too,” he said, giving his attire a once over. He could tell Ezra had chosen his cleanest and fanciest clothes, like something he would wear to a Reaping, but even better. It definitely didn’t compare to what some of the well-off citizens wore, like the shirts with ties or the girls’ smooth dresses and flowery skirts. They had to make due, and Ezabel was no exception either. ”You even combed your hair back.” He didn’t want to ruin it, but he couldn’t help running his palm through it gently. It was still wet.

They held hands as they walked. Ezra still hadn’t explained where they were going or why they were dressed so nicely – it must’ve been a surprise, and he had a feeling it would definitely be a lot of fun. It was always pleasant walking around with their fingers entwined, because passersby’s would notice them. Some of them would smile; he recalled an older couple whispering something about “Young love,” and it had made his cheeks burn brighter than the sun. He hadn’t known if Ezra heard it or not, but he kind of hoped he had. Other people looked at them strangely, because holding hands in the streets wasn’t common. It usually only happened in schools or when two siblings were trying to stay together. When Peacekeepers were nearby, it was even worse. People were nervous to express affection in front of the law. Ezabel didn’t mind either way. He was proud to be Ezra’s.

The walk was proving to be a drawn-out one, especially in comparison to the journey to Mr. Brown’s. Where was he taking him? He hadn’t visited this corner of the District in ages.

Ezra abruptly halted, and he was about to start looking around for their destination when Ezra tugged their bodies together. ”You know I love you, right?” Ezabel grinned sheepishly. He could feel his breath tickling the edges of his lips, so he leaned in and kissed him. ”Yes, and you know I love you too, right?”

Now Ezra was just teasing him. ”Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

[[nyte]]

e z r a

My heart always races when Ezabel is near. It doesn't matter how long we've dated, it doesn't matter how long we've known each other his kisses always leave me breathless. I lock my fingers around the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer although there was so little distance between us already. Maybe I would have cared what others thought a few years ago, but if gazes were lingering upon us I didn't feel them. He tells me he loves me and I can feel it. In the way he kissed me and the words he speaks. Ezabel loves me the mere thought makes me want to jump for joy. I grab his hand, entwining our fingers and pulling him along. I knew I was teasing him but I loved every second of it. Will I tell him where we're going? Maybe once we get there. 

I turn back, facing him and giving him a dramatic wink. "You'll see~!" I singsong, increasing my pace, "Soon enough, our reservation is in only a couple of minutes!" I squeeze his hand as gentle as I can through my excitement. It's times like this that I can forget everything we've been through. I can forget the world we live it. It's like I didn't run away and we'd grown up together, we fell in love just like you were supposed to. Like we should have. 

I wonder if Ezabel misses the boy who was reaped. Asking about his life with the Sycamores was something that I often skirted around. I'd be lying to say I didn't miss him the nights when he slept over there, but he was getting something he deserved. He had brothers and sisters and he's learning how to read too. (He must have if he knew to show up, granted I probably didn't think that through). I've never been a people person, sure I've got some friends at work who've asked me to go drinking with them but I've never accepted. It's hard to feel comfortable around people. 

It's not hard to feel comfortable around Ezabel. 

On a whim, I pull him closer and wrap my arm around his waist. I want everyone to see and I want everyone to know just how much I love this boy. 

Evening settles over the horizon by the time we make it to the entrance. It's an impressive black doorway with candle light spilling over the threshold. I nod sheepishly at the staff manning the entrance "Uh- I had a reservation under Ezra?" My confidence faulters and I find myself picking at the hem of Ezabel's shirt. I could barely handle kids my own age but I don't think I've ever met an adult that liked me. 

He only gives a warm smile, nodding and grabbing two leather-bound menus. Licking my lips, I follow him feeling my heart trying to crawl in my throat. Despite being clad in my Sunday best I felt severely under dressed faced with the fancy patrons who often visited this place. I make an effort not to look at him before pulling out Ezabel's chair and nodding to the waiter "Thank you." I murmur, and he takes his dismissal well. 

"So..." I look up at Ezabel with the biggest grin on my lips. Look what I can do for you. Look at how far we've come. This isn't a tent it's not the soup kitchen. This is the kind of place you deserve. "What do you think?"

[Python]

Ezabel Sycamore

Reservation? What did that mean? Ezra was teasing him with little hints, he must not have wanted to spoil the surprise. Ezabel’s face dropped into a pout. He might be capable of wriggling his way past those sturdy defenses with the puppy-eye technique and the proper amount of whining, but his motivation faltered the moment Ezra tugged them closer together. Sometimes the smallest gestures could leave his heart panting for breath, and he lost all traces of composure. His ribcage was filled to the sternum with feathers tickling his insides. He wondered if Ezra felt a similar sensation – or perhaps he was too cool and confident to feel the childish things he did. He hoped one day he could be just as self-assured.

The pastel colors strewn across the horizon were fading. He couldn’t help but feel that this oncoming darkness – not darkness in the unsettling sense, but a mystifying sense with endless stars and distant galaxies – was setting a romantic mood to suit their evening. The black building up ahead matched the sky like it was meant to be, and Ezra paused directly in front of it. There was a man dressed fancy near the entrance, void of color. Candlelight was seeping into the walls. He had always loved candlelight; Ma used to keep a candle lit in their room during bedtime stories, and then she would blow it out and make the room smell like fire.

Ezra claimed his reservation, and the man escorted them inside. “Inside” was a vastly decorated room filled with tables and voices and the clinking of silverware. The floor was carpet and the space was dimly-lit, like it was supposed to radiate romance and passion through every pore. He glanced around in awe as the man – whose job was now clear to him – led them to a table. Ezra pulled out a chair for him and he eagerly sat down. They were on a date. He was on a date. With Ezra. In a fancy restaurant. Even the table cloth was soft. He rubbed the fabric between his fingertips.

Everybody else in the restaurant looked severely overdressed compared to them – which meant they were the ones underdressed, but who cared? They used to be homeless boys living in a tent, surviving on scraps and soup kitchens. He sat back for a moment, spine aligned with the oddly comfortable chair. Look where we are now. Instead of a tent that was too thin for winter and too fragile during storms, he was living in a house and Ezra was renting his own apartment. Instead of grumbling stomachs, they went to sleep with warm, full bellies. Instead of worry, they could sleep at night with optimism and reassurance about the next day and its trials.

Now they were in an expensive restaurant. Even Ma never took them to places like this.

”What do you think?” Ezra said, and he was speechless. What did he think? He thought a lot of things, and all of them were good.

”You took me out on a date,” he murmured, staring down at his menu with pink cheeks and stretched lips. ”To the nicest place I’ve ever been to.”

[[nyte]]

e z r a

The look on his face was worth the secrecy. The wonderment that lights his eyes is so beautiful that I reach for his hand, pressing my lips against the back and grinning as a blush rushes to my cheeks. "I've been... getting paid well you know? And we've never been on a real date and if we're going to be boyfriends that just won't do." The table cloth is elegant and thick, weighing down on my thighs as it's draped so far over the edges. And we're like two black sheep rolling around in freshly fallen snow, two kids who shouldn't have even been able to set foot in this place. And we're here.

A woman dressed in a sharp black suit passes, holding a small pitcher full of deep red liquid. "Do you want some wine?" She gives the both of us a smile, not waiting for an answer before taking the glass cups already stationed upon the table and filling them half way. Without more than a knowing nod, she turns tail and walks away, leaving me to gape at my boyfriend. I'd never drank before, certainly not alcohol was expensive. It's hard enough to figure out my finances now without needing that expensive champagne that sits in the window of the winery on my street.

But why not? I give him a shrug, grasping the glass in a shaking hand and bringing it to my lips. The wine is bitter, but not unpleasant. It warms every part of my body as it travels down my throat, burning the slightest bit but not in a terrible way. "It's not bad?" I tell Eza, head tilted gently to the side as if examining the taste further. "But I wouldn't call it good either." I take another sip nonetheless, bitterness overwhelming my senses for a good minute before fading into obscurity once more. The deeper I drank the more I enjoyed the wine.

Figuring we should figure out what to order, I opened the menu. It looked like complete jibberish. Panic paints itself across my features and I gape at Ezabel once more. (This date was definitely not going according to plan, but I can't find it in me to care. Any moment spent with him is a moment that could never be wasted.) "Uh Eza, you know I've been learning how to read but I can't make sense of this shit."

My cheeks grow red far too easily and I'm forced to stifle a giggle behind my palm.

I'm so, so happy. I'm so glad that I am here, with Ezabel. Glad that we are together. This time last year, I'd been miserable. Homeless in four having lost yet another person I cared about and I had no reason to survive other than a fluffy kitten who sat on my shoulder everywhere I went. Salmon was my only friend for a long, long while. We're as close as a human and a cat could be. He knows when I miss Ezabel and he's jump on my lap and press his cheek against my hand. Demanding attention because I get lost in my thoughts far too easily. Swallowed whole by worries and doubts and Salmon understands that. Somehow.

I love him, even if the little shit likes Ezabel better.

[Python]

Ezabel Sycamore

He had to swallow his words. It was tempting to spit out the usual kindness, ”You didn’t have to!” but Ezra insisted that he was being paid the affordable amount. This did constitute a “real” date, but there were other things they could do that didn’t require so much money. They could take an evening walk at the park, feed the ducks, or make a home cooked meal and sit with Salmon in front of the television, or lay in the grass behind Sycamore house and just talk. Why did a date have to be so extravagant?

Not that he was complaining.

Everything was so romantic and bewildering. A woman in a slim black dress offered them wine and poured the purple-ish red liquid into their glasses, Ezabel expressing hesitation and confusion in the meantime with deep lines in his forehead. Weren’t they underage? The regulations for alcoholic beverages were poorly-addressed from what he had heard, but why offer it to them? They were obviously young teenage boys. Did they really not care?

He waited for Ezra to sip it first. The closest contact he had with alcohol was the time he decided to take a whiff of what Edgar had been gulping. The bitter odor stained the insides of his nose and made his face scrunch up. It didn’t smell the least bit appealing, but this wine reminded him of juice. Yet somehow, it was alcohol, and it probably had an unpleasant flavor. Ezra didn’t seem sure of his taste buds. It wasn’t bad or good, so it fell somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. He figured he might as well try it since Ezra had, and carefully lifted the skinny glass with his fingers. He sniffed it before bringing the rim to his lips and tilting his head back slightly. The wine was bitter, unlike anything he had ever tried before. Swallowing it felt even stranger, like it was heavy and didn’t belong in his throat.

”It’s weird,” he said, licking his bottom lip. He was not ungrateful, however, so he would at least finish the beverage with his meal. He hadn’t the slightest clue what he was going to order.

He laughed at Ezra’s comment and picked up his own menu. ”I can read some of the words,” he said, pointing to a large, bolded one that said “Special.” Special was the perfect way to describe tonight. Why not order something that suited the occasion?

A man with a handkerchief in each pocket marched up to their table with a notepad in hand. ”Good evening, my name is Gavin and I will be your server tonight,” he said, very politely, Ezabel noted. He was being treated not like a street rat, but like a prince. ”I see you’ve been tasting our wine. Are you two ready to order your meals?”

Ezabel placed his menu on the table and pointed to the word “special.” There were some words beneath it that he couldn’t comprehend, other than “side soup” clustered together, but he knew they were foods and he was fine with whatever it happened to be. ”I’ll have this, please.”

[[nyte]]

e z r a

Ezabel takes a drink from the wine, face contorted in the cutest way as he seems to try and figure out what he thinks of the dark red liquid. "It's weird." He tells me, drawing more giggles from the pit of my stomach as I nod in agreeance, watching with interest as his tongue swipes across the bottom of his lip. A deeper blush crawls under my skin and I take another long drink of the bitter liquid which becomes sweeter every trip down my throat. 

It's real easy to forget how lonely it can be, sitting across the way from my best friend. Easy to forget what I've put the both of us through. I try not to think of the little guy, making do with a blanket that smelled like cat piss for who knows how long. I try not to think about how alone he must have felt all those years that I was off with Angel. I thought I was doing what was for the best but just maybe I ruined both of our lives for a long, long time.

The thought hurts so terribly that I take another large drink, alcohol burning a path down my throat. I sputter, coughing loudly into my arm as Ezabel orders. "Yeah... have... same!" I choke out, only serving to turn my face a more violent hue. As the waiter saunters away, small grin upon his lips I press my forehead against the harsh wood upon the table, shaking my head against it.

"Fuuuuck." I drawl pathetically, forcing my teeth into my lips fighting the smile trying to crawl onto my lips. All I should feel is humiliation but I feel happier too. As though the wine bubbles and boils in my stomach, trying to lift me up into the ceiling as I stare at the floor. I sit there for a long while, or maybe only a few seconds before I face Eza, still biting my cheek. "I'm a mess." I observe before taking another long drink. "Your mess." I tease before taking his hand from across the way, tracing the veins lying dormant upon the back of it.

"Ezabel, I'm so sorry. For everything. I know I've said it a lot but, I'm so sorry for running away because I think I loved you even before then and I wasn't thinking and I thought that's what would be best but I was so wrong." I rest my forehead against his hand thoughtfully as I search for the words in an empty mind. "This is what's best. You and me. And I've wanted to take you out for a nice date for so long. Just to prove..." the words are difficult to force out because I think I might start crying but I don't really understand why. "To prove how much you mean to me and that I'm never leaving you again. I miss you when you're not around. I miss you so much Eza." 

I don't know where all these words came from but they won't stop.