growing pains || ky & beck tc blitz

[[nyte]]

b e c k .

"when the lights come down,
got an empty crown"

He was exhausted, falling back on sheets so soft it was almost painful. Living in the lap of luxury was no longer foreign but somehow the exuberance of the Capitol managed to make it all the more annoying.

His mansion back in Four made it easy to drown out the white noise of beating hearts and soft breaths, it was full of nooks and crannies to lose himself within. Where there was nothing but Beck and a paperback book resting open on his thighs and, sometimes, a phone pressed into the space between his shoulder and neck. He didn't hate being around others, at least not as much as he used to, but those moments were an antidote he sorely needed.

Somehow this room is still too exposed. Tributes, Trainers, Victors, Avox - their presence leaks in through the gap beneath his closed door. Sharing a floor with his tributes, with his old mentor, served as a constant reminder. Beck Hailsham, the victor, was here to serve two heads up on a silver platter. Oh, and make sure to wear a smile while you do it. He tried to drown them out with a pillow pressed over his ears but that had felt like he was suffocating and he'd nearly given himself a panic attack and -

when did simply living become so complicated? Forced to monitor every little thing because any of them could send him back to that arena, on that bridge, in that storm.

There's supposed to be a dinner tonight and Beck's pretty sure they're expecting him to be there but he'd rather eat broken glass than have to wear a suit right now so unfortunately they're going to have to be disappointed.

"Ugh!" He chucks his pillow at the door, falling back hard against the ornate headboard and feeling no better than he had before the little outburst. His phone weighs heavy in his pocket, as much of a temptation as it was a cruel taunt.

Don't bother him. Grow up, Hailsham.

Tonight was not going to be a good night.

[gamemaker kelsier]

k y .

"Somewhere in the mountains
And buried in the snow
Life grows underneath us
A thousand leaves below"

So he still sucks at it, even a year after making the promise to try and make friends, eighty percent of his interactions end awkwardly. A great example was his experience meeting Emmett Le Roux on the train which ended in Emmett vomiting for a solid five minutes and Ky inspecting the lights, unable to decide whether or not he should have left.

It was a new day though and the little box of tea in his hand held promise. Ky and Opal had harvested and dried the batch of flowers only a few weeks prior so it was still fresh. The aroma from the leaves permeated through the packaging and followed Ky as he made his way to the fourth floor of the training centre. Jasmine and chamomile with a hint of valerian.

His hands only shook a little bit.

It wasn't that he was nervous or anything, it wasn't his first time meeting Beck. He'd said hello last year and then once again at the newest Victor's victory tour but it'd been different then. Just a brief handshake and a smile for the cameras and then Beck had been in front of someone else; Ky didn't think it really counted.

At least they weren't entirely strangers.

Ky didn't know how to explain why he was inserting himself into Beck's life. He was the only one without a proper claim to relate to him. He'd never been in the games, never had to kill anyone before, he'd never even been seriously injured. The only thing he had going for him was that he knew what it was like to live with someone who had been through all of that and if he could help Beck heal faster then he had to try.

So when he reached Beck's door he tucked the box under his arm and raised his hand to knock.

Thump.

Ky hesitated as the sound came from the other side of the door. Maybe someone else was already in there. In that case, it would be even easier because then he could just hand over the tea and leave and keep lying to himself that he'd made an attempt at friendship.

It's not that he was shy, just scared to disappoint. He knew he wasn't what people expected when they thought about what a victor's son should look and act like.

He knocked anyway and stared at the closed door, wondering whether he should already be smiling or if he should just smile when the door opened.

Perhaps not at all?