i didn't need a savior. — adrian and frost

[Deleted]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS WORN YOUR
FLAWS UPON YOUR SLEEVE ―

Adrian loved sitting out on the dock and just imagining what his life could be like. Yeah he was from a wealthy family and there are way worse districts to be born in. But was he happy? No, he wasn't. He hadn't been happy or even okay for a long, long time. His dad didn't even seem to want anything to do with him anymore. His mom was dead. He didn't feel like he had anything left for him in the district. Honestly, he didn't even care about being a career. Yeah, his dad insisted even if he never was a tribute it would help him be a trainer one day like him. But he didn't want to be a trainer. He wanted to be an artist. But artists outside of the capitol are nothing but broke jokes.

So here he sat, imagining his life outside of Panem. In that imagination he owned an art gallery. It didn't just have his art though, it had art from people from all walks of life. And he was happy - wherever he was in that imagination. He had a family that loved him, as if not being in Panem would fix his family issues. But, none of it would ever be true anyway. Owning an art gallery in the districts? Really? Are we sure this isn't high Adrian?

He snapped out of his thoughts and decided to get up. He was standing on the edge of the dock, walking back and forth as he continued looking at the setting sun. He hated sitting still for too long. It put him on edge and made him want to do literally anything else. If Adrian wasn't worried about disappointing his dad he would act up in class a hell of a lot more if it just meant being able to get up and walk around. As he was pacing, he didn't realize how slippery the dock was. And he didn't care how close he was to the ocean. He wasn't scared of water, he was scared of drowning. And it wasn't like the ocean would jump up and grab him.

Or so he thought.

He ended up slipping on the deck and falling into the sea, He sunk towards the bottom before his buoyancy brought him back up. But this was the difference between training and the current situation. Training he knew he was going to get in and there were other people around. While Frost was nearby he didn't see him. And more importantly he wasn't prepared. A panic attack set in and he couldn't bring himself to swim in his panic as he struggled to stay above the water, screaming and struggling.

Was this it? Was he going to drown here? As he swallowed more and more water and his vision began to get fuzzy, he couldn't help but think that maybe he could see his mom again. Just maybe... He was still above the water, but slowly he was beginning to lose consciousness.

ADRIAN NAVARRE

by sixsmith.

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Take a step
And don't look back

”Any adventures today?”

Gully’s sitting across from me at the kitchen table, fidgeting with his fork. He looks up at me with a sheepish smile that answers my question. Yes, always adventures… or schemes.

”I pushed Squid into a pile of fish guts. He was pissed. But it was pretty funny.”

I break out into a smile, too. ”Ah, just tell him he’ll have to get used to the smell, it’s good for him.”

”That’s what I said!”

Gully’s laugh is infectious, the kinda laugh that shakes the legs of his rickety chair. He laughs with his whole being, like everything he hears is the best thing yet. I think it’s endearing, so I let him keep on going. He giggles as I pick up my fork and take a sniff of tonight’s fish, making a pretend face.

More serious, but with some warmth, I tell him: “Make sure to apologize tomorrow, though. You don’t wanna go losing a friend for nothing.”

That gap-toothed grin of his just widens. ”Uh huh. He probably won’t even remember, but I will. And it’ll be today, ‘cause we’re gonna go out to the beach and look for shells.”

I nod. ”Want me to walk you? I was gonna get some air, anyway.”

He agrees, and that’s how we end up venturing out into the afternoon. I wave goodbye to Gully as he runs to his friend on the sand, and I keep going. Not anywhere in particular, just… out. Moving through the sea breeze and using the time to think.

My eyes are naturally drawn to the horizon, that great unknown. I wonder if fishermen ever try to take off into the sea on their boats, or if the Capitol searches the waters. Is there a border out there? An end point, where their fleet might stop you and bring you back to land to be punished? Or is it just: good luck, there’s nothing out there, nobody will save you?

I shake my head. Stranding myself at sea, lost from the reaches of humanity, does not sound ideal. Maybe there’s a place out there we don’t know about, but I haven’t heard of it.

Not for the first time, gazing out at the endless expanse, I feel hopeless.

And I’m not the only one, it seems. I’m standing on the shore, just to the left of a dock, and I catch sight of another person gazing out. They’re pacing quickly, almost too quickly for the deck, and then --

It happens. For a split second, I think perhaps my imagination is running away with me, but it happens. One moment, I’m imagining that the stranger might slip and fall, and the next -- splash.

I think: did they mean to do that?

The frantic splashing gives me my answer. I see the way the waves crash against the dock, the roiling of the water, and the figure does not emerge with the ease I imagined. They’re gasping for air.

In an instant, I leap into action, moving before I can think further.

”Hey! Hey!” I holler, running into the waves. As I get closer, the seafloor drops out from under me, and I’m forced to swim. A blonde tangle of hair creeps just barely above the surface. It’s a boy, I can see that now, and he’s floundering.

And then he’s sinking. There’s no air in his lungs.

My heart thuds wildly in my chest. I’m still ten meters out from the boy, trying to swim closer, but I’m fighting the waves. By the time I reach him, he’s already below water, so I have to throw my head beneath the waves. I have to fight my body to keep my eyes open to the stinging saltwater, but it’s hard to do for long. But I see him -- a shadow, not too far down, but far enough to make this difficult.

I push myself down, fighting the own air in my lungs to reach him. I’m grasping, searching with my hands, catching only fleeting glimpses as the saltwater forces my eyes closed. And then there’s skin beneath my hands, the shape of a jaw, and I follow it down to catch the boy beneath his arms. I hold on tight and then stop fighting the forces of buoyancy pulling me toward the sky.

Seconds pass. It feels like it takes millennia to breach the surface, but we do. We emerge into the open air, and I just keep saying one thing as we move slowly, too slowly, toward the shore: ”Breathe. Please breathe.”

Lyrics from Don't Look Back by Birds of Bellwoods

[Deleted]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS WORN YOUR
FLAWS UPON YOUR SLEEVE ―

As Adrian sunk under the waves the dark edges of his vision became his entire field of vision as he loss consciousness, going further and further down. This was it. He was really going to die here. What was his father going to do without him? He lost his son and his wife in less than two years. What would his friends think? Would they miss him? Young people in the districts, especially careers, almost became used to losing their friends. But in the games they had warning. This? This was out of nowhere.

He didn't want to give up and struggled to try to wake up but couldn't. Then he heard a voice. A voice that was unmistakably his mothers telling him to just relax. This was probably just his brain playing tricks on him, almost like a dream. But then he felt something, as if he was being held. Was this him being taken into death?

After a few seconds of being above water, Frost would be able to feel Adrians hands twitch against him. It wasn't much, just a slight movement of his fingers. What was this? Was he coming to or was it just something due to his death?

Adrian didn't know what was going on either. He felt like he could move slightly but was still struggling to breathe. He couldn't move much, just his fingers and his toes. Was he dead or alive? He couldn't tell. He almost felt as though he was in limbo. But then he heard it. His ears were clogged with water but he swore he heard someone telling him to breathe,

Almost as if on cue, after Frost instructed him to breathe he hoarsely coughed out a moderate amount of water. He definitely still had some more in his lungs, but despite the burning feeling he could breathe. And that's all he could care about. Adrian was certain now. He was still alive. He coughed out a little more water then gasped for air. His voice was wheezy. He could open his eyes a tiny bit, but all he could make out of Frost was a dark male figure. He closed them and relaxed. He was safe.

ADRIAN NAVARRE

by sixsmith.

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

I don't know what's out there
and I'm fine with that

My arms feel like gelatin as we reach the place where the seafloor rises to meet us. My feet touch solid ground and I pull myself upright, but I’m not just one person now. The boy -- whoever he is -- is slumped like a rag doll against me.

I huff, trying to catch my breath. I’m used to swimming, but with another person in tow? Not so much. I know I need to hurry, but I take this small moment to gather my composure and get a better hold on the boy’s lifeless body. I stand behind him, gather him beneath the arms, and move so I’m dragging him backward. I’m thankful for the ocean and the way the water lifts his languid limbs. And for a moment, I think I see one of his hands twitch. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light.

Please don’t be dead, I think. Please, please, please. He’s cold, but he just fell. I don’t know how quickly bodies get cold when a person dies, but it can’t be that fast, can it? Maybe it’s just the temperature of the water, sapping the warmth from his skin.

God, I need to hurry.

”Come on,” I say, more for my own benefit, trying to gain speed or motivation or something as my muscles strain against the weight.

And then a miracle happens. The boy coughs. It’s quiet, sort of weak, but maybe it means he’ll be okay.

Finally, finally, finally, we reach the shore. I don’t pull him far into the sand, just enough to where the tide won’t reach us. I lay him on his back, and my brain fills with panic. His eyes are closed. He's dangerously pale.

I switch into survival mode, trying to remember what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Then I think.. Okay. Breathing. I sit next to him and lean in close, listening for the sound or the feeling of air.

And there it is -- his chest, rising and falling. The gentle, almost imperceptible touch of breath against my cheek. I sigh in relief, then lean back on my heels. I think… maybe I’ll try to wake him.

But I don’t. I close my eyes, throw my head to the sky, and try to slow the panic thrumming in my chest. And I wait for him to wake up when he’s ready.

Lyrics from Don't Look Back by Birds of Bellwoods

[Deleted]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS WORN YOUR
FLAWS UPON YOUR SLEEVE ―

Once they were on dry land he still lay motionless for about three minutes. Then slowly he began to stir. First he moved his fingers a little. Then his hands. Next, he let out a slight groaning sound, like someone annoyed they're waking up. He slowly opened his eyes. Finally, he half-coughed and half-threw up most of the salt-water still in his body onto the sand. There might be a little in his stomach that he swallowed, but it's wasn't going to kill him.

Adrian felt like he was asleep, yet consciously thinking. He couldn't move his body or open his eyes or speak, but he could hear his own thoughts. Normally when he had panic attacks, like when he was in the water, his thoughts were going a mile a minute. But right now, even his thoughts seemed slow. Like they were having trouble processing what was going on. Which, they were. One minute he was standing on a dock and the next he was drowning. He though he died, but here he was on land. Who even saved him? But there was one main thought in his mind.

' How the fuck am I still alive? '

Honestly he felt a little dead. Not completely dead, just like a mild case a death. His throat was sore, his eyes stung from all the salt water when he opened them, and his lungs still felt like they were on fire. But all and all, he was actually a bit grateful. Some pain is better than drowning, that was for damn sure.

He panted for a couple seconds after the vomiting cough. He could breathe, he was breathing. His entire body was shaking a little. Honestly, Adrian didn't even notice the shaking. Instead he was staring at the guy next to him. That must have been the one who saved him. Adrian didn't think he had seen him before. So why did he save him? People around here are selfish, at least that's how Adrian views a large percentage of district four. What does he gain from stopping Adrians death?

Regardless of any ulterior motives, he still had saved Adrians life. He of course wanted to thank the boy, but he was embarrassed. He was embarrassed that he had to be rescued like that. In district four. From water. He stopped staring at him and instead looked at the sand, refusing to make eye contact. His face also had a little bit of pink to it on his cheeks. When he spoke, his voice was a bit quiet. Partly from the shame and partly because his throat fucking hurt.

"Thank you... assuming you're the reason I'm not laying at the bottom of the ocean."

Adrian honestly looked like a mess right now. His blonde hair was tangled and dripping wet. His long-sleeved shirt and pants were soaked and had a substantial amount of sand on them, his sandals had fallen off while he was drowning. The whites of his blue eyes were red and irritated. And he was pale, other than the red on his cheeks. Even paler than normal which is already a concerning level of pale.

ADRIAN NAVARRE

by sixsmith.

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

I know I've got to make a change
'Cause I can't waste another day

The waking up happens slowly.

Too slowly. I think for a second that maybe this guy’s actually really sick, and he’s dying while I’m just sitting here waiting for him to wake up, and what if he doesn’t wake up? Every disaster scenario runs through my mind while I sit in the damp sand and wait. I could see if anyone knows him, try to find his family, or I could go get Gully and his friends and try to lift him to help, or --

Well, or leave him.

I hate the thought before it’s even done forming in my brain. I grimace at the idea, feeling evil for even considering it for a half second.

And then I see his fingers twitch.

Once the waking happens, it happens with the gross vitality of being human. He coughs and pukes up the saltwater sloshing around in his stomach, and I look at the sand, not wanting to watch him in this moment of weakness. I guess I just don’t know him well -- or at all -- and being sick is the kinda thing that feels personal somehow. Like oh no, this stranger will realize that I’m a person inhabiting a fallible prison of flesh, and they can’t know I sometimes vomit.

Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking either. I just look away.

Which is okay, because sooner or later he finally gets his bearings with reality, and when I glance up he’s looking straight at me. And that feels like too much. I’m thankful that he turns his attention toward the sand when he speaks.

"Thank you... assuming you're the reason I'm not laying at the bottom of the ocean."

I laugh nervously. I don’t fucking know what to say to that. I take the brief silence that follows as a moment to observe the state of him: pale face, ragged hair, soaked and sandy clothes, eyes bloodshot. I frown.

”It’s nothing,” I say, though of course we both know that’s not true. It was a hell of a lot of work, and now my arms are jelly and my brain’s sort of on fire with nerves. ”You look… pretty rough. I’m not a doctor or anything, but I think you should… “

I trail off, because I actually have no suggestions. ”Are you cold?”

Lyrics from Don't Look Back by Birds of Bellwoods

[Deleted]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS WORN YOUR
FLAWS UPON YOUR SLEEVE ―

Adrian thought it was kind of funny the way that Frost trailed off... he wasn't sure what Adrian needed either. What do you do after you drown? Do you take a nap? Go for a walk? Have bedrest for a day or two? Neither of them really seemed to know. Though, he didn't laugh. Right now he wasn't really in a laughing mood. He was kind of in a dreamlike state right now. His brain was still having trouble comprehending everything going on. He almost died. And some random kid saved him.

Looking at the random kid once again he was able to confirm that he was pretty sure that Frost wasn't a career and he knew for a fact he wasn't a trainer. That was good. He didn't need to have to explain himself. Plus if another career had to save him... rumours could spread like wildfire in the training center. Luckily he hadn't been on the receiving end of many rumours, but oh boy did he hear a fuck ton of them. One of the perks of being able to blend into a crowd, I guess.

As soon as Frost asked him if he was cold he realised just how freezing he was - adrenaline will do that to you. He hood goosebumps all across his skin and was even shivering slightly. He nodded in reply to Frost as he began to take off his shirt, "I'm fucking freezing, dude. But, getting out of these wet ass clothes will probably help... Are you alright?"

He was so focused on nearly dying he forgot that Frost was also in the water for a while and that it's possible he got hurt during the rescue mission. Plus, he was probably pretty cold too. It was getting dark now and the beach can get pretty cold at night, especially with the high winds coming off the ocean. Plus, wet clothes can decrease body temperature a considerable amount. Damn he was starting to feel bad.

"Sorry you had to jump in, I don't know what happened, I fell and I think I hit my head on a piece of drift wood or something after I went under. I'm such a great career, aren't I?"

He acted like he was joking at that last sentence, yet there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. The driftwood thing? A lie, but a somewhat believable one especially considering it took him a minute to resurface after he initially fell into the ocean. Plus it was unlikely there was a single person within district four who 100% could not swim at all. Even he could swim, he just fucking hated it.

ADRIAN NAVARRE

by sixsmith.

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Watching minutes slip away
Thinking things I'll never say

The embarrassment is rolling off of this guy in waves. I don’t know what he thinks when he looks at me, but I sort of get the inkling that he might be a Career. He has a look about him. Aside from the disastrous, panicked swimming, that is. He’s young -- maybe my age, maybe a little younger -- and he looks athletic. A lot of people in Four are, but there’s a certain kinda look about the fishermen, and I don’t remember seeing this guy on any of my shifts at the dock.

I’m glad that he eventually breaks the silence, but I’m less glad that he moves to remove his shirt. Now I’m staring aggressively at the sand, ‘cause it seems like another sort-of-awkward thing to do in front of someone you don’t know. First the vomit, now this. I mean, I know I just hauled him from the bottom of the ocean, but I feel like I’m -- I don’t know, invading his privacy. Too personal, too close.

"I'm fucking freezing, dude. But, getting out of these wet ass clothes will probably help... Are you alright?"

Until now, I hadn’t really thought about it. I could feel the nerves prickling at my brain, the wobbly feeling of my arms, and the shock, but…

I nod, lifting my gaze for a half second before I feel awkward again and stare absentmindedly at the waves. But then I shiver, because of course I do. The boy quickly rushes to apologize.

"Sorry you had to jump in, I don't know what happened, I fell and I think I hit my head on a piece of driftwood or something after I went under. I'm such a great career, aren't I?"

Memory has an odd way of warping. With the adrenaline slowly wearing off, I wonder if I got it wrong. Was he panicking? Or was there a piece of driftwood? Perhaps he hit his head and then got confused? I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Then the second part of his statement sinks in. So he is a Career. I smile in that I-know-exactly-what-you-mean-but-not-really kinda way, still looking very much everywhere but at his bare chest.

”Yeah, I --” I begin, but then lose my train of thought. The sentence doesn’t have a plan. ”I mean, I was just here, taking a walk. It’s fine. I mean, what was I gonna do otherwise? I think I’m fine, just," I shiver, "chilly. My house is just down this way. Do you wanna go warm up?”

I don’t say it, but I don’t know where this guy lives, and I’m not certain he’ll make it home okay like this. The wind’s picking up, and it’s getting darker by the minute. He should at least dry off and warm up before he ventures anywhere in the dark.

Lyrics from Don't Look Back by Birds of Bellwoods

[Deleted]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS WORN YOUR
FLAWS UPON YOUR SLEEVE ―

Adrian didn't get why Frost was having a hard time looking at him. Sure he was a private dude, but he didn't have issues with body stuff. He hated that fucking beauty mark on his chin, but it's not like a shirt would cover it. Plus, it's district four. People are shirtless at the beach. Shirtless in the ocean. Shirtless working out. Hell, a lot of AMAB (assigned male at birth) careers were shirtless training. And they changed in the locker rooms before and after training. He just grew up around a culture of shirtlessness being normalised. But him and Frost grew up very differently.

He was guessing that Frost was a fisherperson, or came from a family of them. He noticed that he had rougher hands, tying knots and working on ships can do that, Frost was also a very strong swimmer being able to get Adrian to shore pretty quick, when working on a boat it's pretty important that you can swim. And finally, a lot of fishermen lived in the area. It made it easy for them to keep track of the tides and keep an eye on their boats. Crime happened in every district, including four.

He had a feeling that from the position Frost was standing he didn't get the best view. The dock was in the way and the waves were pretty rough. Plus it was sunset so it was a little hard to see already. On top of that it was a big mess of confusion for everyone involved when Adrian slipped in. Maybe the driftwood was underwater due to the rough waves. He felt bad for lying to someone who saved his life, but he made  note to himself to make it up to Frost.

Considering they were both cold, he wanted to take the offer. It was risky, but Adrian decided to trust him. Frost looked strong, but Adrian was strong too. And he was fast. Plus, he doubted Frost was luring him somewhere to rob him. He could easily rob him right on the beach and it's not like he had any valuables on him. No, it was definitely worth it.

Plus he couldn't go home tonight anyway. His dad had kicked him out for the day after they had a fight. He was planning on heading to a friends house after the beach, but now he was worried by the time he got there it would be too late to randomly ask to spend the night. Plus, the friend lives pretty far. Even if he could stay over he would freeze before he got there. He had to take this offer. He's making a list mentally of all the things he needs to make up to Frost.

"That sounds nice actually. Thank you, again. I think my house key fell out of my pocket when I was underwater and my dad won't be home until tomorrow, he's helping my grandparents out with something tonight."

Another fucking lie from Adrian Navarre. His dad was home, just drunk off his ass. Normally when he got kicked out he had time to grab a backpack of shit before he left, including his wallet, phone, and keys. But this time they fought right in front of the living room door so he couldn't run upstairs to his room before leaving. Then he realised he didn't even know his saviors name.

"My names Adrian, and you are?"

ADRIAN NAVARRE

by sixsmith.

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

I fell asleep in a stranger's bed
In the house that I grew up in

The guy throws what may be another lie out there, but I brush it off. I swear he didn’t check his pockets, but maybe I missed it. Guess it doesn’t matter anyway, and it’s not my business why he wants to hide something or other. Maybe he doesn’t even have a home. I know I’d feel sorta weird talking about my life, so I suppose I can’t blame him. You never know what someone’s dealing with.

He says his name’s Adrian, and I take mental note of it. Now I’m 100% sure I’ve never met him before. Maybe he goes to some special school ‘cause he’s a Career.

”I’m Frost,” I say, offering my hand to shake.

A cold wind whips up from the shore, and I shiver. ”Let’s go. You’re right that it’s freezing.”

We head down the shoreline, and I think about what to say. I wonder what my dads will think, me hauling a very soaked and sickly-looking stranger into the house. And while Gully’s a sweetheart, he’s still sort of an asshole, so if he’s back I can’t guarantee he won’t say something mean about how shitty we both look.

It’s silent while I’m thinking this, aside from the waves flowing over the sand. It’s not an awkward silence, but I do feel the need to warn him of my family. I can see a lantern hanging up, a little glimmer of light in the distance, so I know somebody’s home. I slow down.

”It’s getting dark, so my family should be home,” I say. ”They’re nice, don’t worry, they’re probably just gonna be concerned about what happened. It’s me, my brother Gully, and our dads.” I don’t say ‘I hope you don’t have a problem with that,’ but I think it, and it sort of hangs in the air with a silent emphasis. I’d sort of hate to invite a stranger into our house and then find out he’s freaking awful, like some people are.

”And we’re almost there. We’ll be out of the cold soon. It’s that bright light over in the distance.”

Lyrics from Is This It? by the Greeting Committee

[Deleted]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS WORN YOUR
FLAWS UPON YOUR SLEEVE ―

Adrian definitely noted the dads comment, emphasis on dads being plural. In a way, that was comforting to him. Adrian had been having a hard time accepting certain parts of himself, parts he knew his own father would never understand. Jason might one day be able to move past those parts of his son, but he knew his dad could never understand or even accept his son being gay.

Of course, he didn't blame his dad for that. He blamed the way his dad was raised, he blamed the aura of toxic masculinity that surrounded many careers even to this day. He blamed a society that perpetuated heteronormative ideals. Maybe it was just hard to blame those you love, or maybe Adrian was right.

He wanted to let Frost know he didn't have to worry without blatantly saying so. In a way, saying it blatantly felt almost as bad as having a poor response. It felt performative and fake. So much of Adrian's life - at least his public life - was just that, a performance. It was him playing the role everyone around him expected him to. The role of a career. The role of a ladies man. The role of someone from a happy family. But with Frost? He didn't feel as though he had to perform. Frost had seen him at his most vulnerable quite literally, he could truly be himself.

"Your dads and your brother, huh? That sounds like a nice family. I've always wanted a younger brother or sister, but my parents just never wanted more than one kid I suppose. Now it's just my dad and I, though. And let's hurry if we can, I'm fucking freezing."

He made sure to emphasize the 's' in dads, showing he acknowledged what Frost had said while also showing he didn't care that he had two dads. And what he said about wanting a younger sibling was true, one year for his birthday he said he wanted a brother or a sister as kid. He just liked the depiction of the strong big brother archtype he had read in books and seen on television shows as a kid. Plus, whenever he had played at friends houses who had siblings it was always so much fun. Whenever his parents were too busy to play he could just play with them instead.

He also added that part about it being just him and his dad so Frost and him were sharing an equal amount. Adrian didn't like the idea of Frost saving his life then opening up while Adrian continued to hide things from him like he hid from everyone else. Plus, the risk of exposing things about himself from Frost seemed minimal. They and their families obviously ran in different circles so he doubted even if Frost did blab to people, no one Adrian knew would find out about it or even care if some fisherman told them.

ADRIAN NAVARRE

[by sixsmith]
[485 words]
[lyrics by bastille]

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Know I was hanging over the edge
I was afraid of when I was just a kid

A wave of relief washes over me at Adrian’s nonchalance. If he’s perturbed, he doesn’t show it, and so long as he can keep that up -- whether he’s bothered or not -- he’ll be fine in my book.

I nod when he mentions being cold, and quicken my stride. The wind is coming in from the shore and the clouds are stirring overhead. Briefly, I’m thankful that I pulled him from the water before the weather turned. In a crueler world somewhere, we’d both be at the bottom of the ocean right now.

The last fifty yards to my house are exhausting. My legs, worn from the swim, threaten to give out at any moment. I try not to make it too obvious, but I don’t doubt that this Career can tell I’m weaker than I’d like. Living in District Four is all well and good, but the fact of the matter is that working in a boat all day is a lot different from taking a dip for exercise, which I don’t have a lot of time for.

Warm air crashes into me when I enter the front room. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Our house is small, but comfortable. There’s the front room, with a makeshift kitchen to the left, with a fireplace and sitting area in the opposite corner. There’s also two bedrooms in the back of the house. Gully’s got a little space of his own by the sitting area, since he’s the only one without his own room. It’s like a fortress of blankets where he can hide and get some space from everyone, and it works for him. Sooner or later I imagine he’ll move into my room when he gets too big, and I’ll find a place of my own.

My dads are there in the kitchen, working on a fish stew over the small stove. There’s my dad Fisher, a lean man with freckled skin, bronze hair, rough beard. Then there’s my dad Mark, a tall man with long, dark hair and skin that looks more like mine. They lift their heads and smile warmly, then sort of quizzically, eyeing the stranger at their front door.

I jump in before they can ask questions. ”Hey, this is Adrian,” I say, nodding back to where he stands. It occurs to me that I don’t want to worry my dads, so I decide to lie through my teeth.

”Is it okay if he stays here for tonight? It’s storming down the beach and that’s why our clothes are soaked, and he lost his keys, and it’s freezing out there, and he’s a friend from school, not like, a stranger, and...”

I trail off, realizing both that I’m talking too fast and that I don’t have anything else to say. I’m like a kid trying to convince his parents to let him adopt a stray puppy. Judging by the wide smiles on their faces, I can tell I’m an idiot for trying to over-sell this. I guess I just don’t have friends around much.

”Nice to meet you, Adrian,” Dad says, and he gestures with the spoon he’s holding in his left hand. ”I’m Mark, this is Fisher, and Gully’s over th--”

”I’m reading!” a voice interrupts from the corner.

Mark grins wider. ”Gully’s here, but he’s reading. And you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. It does look pretty bad out there.” And then he adds, with some humor: “And so do you two.”

Lyrics from Is This It? by the Greeting Committee

[Deleted]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS WORN YOUR
FLAWS UPON YOUR SLEEVE ―

Adrian didn't move past the doorway as they entered Frost's home. This was a lot for him to take in. The house felt like a home. It was warm, inviting, and full of life. It reminded him of his own home, how it used to be. For the past two years his house had felt empty and dark. Even the smell of a homecooked meal was new to him, his mother was always the one to do the cooking and him and his dad were both horrible at it. He had gotten better, but it didn't smell like this. It didn't smell like home.

He was barely listening to Frost speak, lost in his head. In his mind flashes of his previous life were distracting him from the world around him. His family laughing and smiling at the dinner table. Him helping his mom with dinner. Even the memory of him and his dad making soup for his mom the night that she died was popping up. That was his first life. His happy life. His current life was the one he had now. Full of loneliness and secrets and pain. It made him sad in a way to see a family so happy because it reminded him of what he lost.

He wasn't going to take that out on them though. They deserved to be happy and it wasn't their fault that everything had happened the way that it did. The Navarre's had their own shit going on and it wasn't anyone's fault - and he knew that. That's where he differed from his father. His father had such trouble understanding how his wife had died so young and how everything had fallen apart so quickly that he looked for someone to blame. And that blame happened to fall on Adrian the moment he was diagnosed with the same heart condition that killed his mother.

As Mark introduced the family to him, he slowly stepped further into the house, closing the door behind him. He was getting out of his trance. He felt a slight pain in his chest, this wasn't unexpected. When you have heart conditions it's generally recommended not to almost die - especially when both stress and exercise are potential triggers. It wasn't anything bad, just mild pain. But in case things happened to get worse, he figured it might be a good idea to casually throw in he has an illness. Plus he felt bad lying to Frost already.

This wasn't something he was used to sharing. None of his friends really knew about it. But for once, he wanted to be honest. He wanted to stop holding things in. He wanted to feel like a normal, functioning human being for once. This was a functional family, and he felt so odd being part of it. It was like he had stepped into a painting. A painting he could no longer be in. He was going to downplay it of course, he didn't want them to worry nor did he want to draw too much attention to it.

"Thank you both for understanding. We were standing a bit too close to the ocean when the storm started up and got hit by a pretty good wave... and part of me looking particularly rough might be because I'm a bit under the weather today. Nothing contagious you need to worry about, just a minor heart condition. No big deal. Dinner smells delicious, by the way. You two are fishers, right?"

He wanted to move on quickly from mentioning his condition before they got too curious or too much attention was drawn to it. He instead commented both on the dinner and their jobs. He assumed that was the case. They both had the same look as Frost, the look of fishermen. Of course, it was possible he was wrong. Adrian was kind of dumb sometimes. But if he was wrong that opened the conversation more to questions about them and less about him - the strange boy Frost had dragged from the sea.

ADRIAN NAVARRE

[by sixsmith]
[671 words]
[lyrics by bastille]

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Sometimes I get so hopeful I make myself scared
That I will wake up and the hope will disappear

I notice, but don’t comment on, the way Adrian looks so nervous stepping into the house. I suppose I can’t blame him; I’d be nervous if I were a stranger in someone else’s home too, but I don’t meet new people often enough to know what that’s like. Maybe he’s an anxious guy and I’ve terrified him. At least it’s warm in here.

Thankfully, he finally shuts the door and seems to settle into the moment. My dads introduce themselves, and Adrian -- thank Ripred -- continues the lie of mine. But then I’m taken aback at the mention of a heart condition. Is he just being clever? Or is it true? Was that why he almost drowned?

I feel suddenly thankful that his heart didn’t stop on the beach. Now it seems like a miracle, at least if he’s telling the truth.

Mark smiles widely at the boy’s words, and doesn’t seem to think anything of this heart condition or our situation on the beach. He nods at the stew on the stove, and I feel my body relax. We won’t have to elaborate on our story.

”Yes, we’re having fish stew from the extra catch today,” Mark says. ”You’re welcome to some of it, once it’s ready. Frost should have some extra clothes, and the fire should help with the cold.”

“Great,” I say with a nod, eager to get away from them lest they pry any further into my day or make Adrian uncomfortable with questions. I stride toward my room, unsure if Adrian’s following, but at least I can get away from the conversation.

I step into my room, and my heartbeat calms. It’s comfortable, familiar, and -- most importantly -- devoid of my parents. I’m a really terrible liar, and I feel like I’ve just gotten away with something, even if I haven’t done anything wrong. I guess I’m just not used to keeping things from my dads.

My room is small, but cozy. There’s handsewn quilts on the bed, made by my grandmother Isla before she passed. There’s a small pile of books against the wall, since I don’t have a dedicated bookshelf. Mainly it’s school stuff the Capitol approves of, like An Introduction to Fish and Wildlife, but there’s a couple of tattered novels in the pile, too. Those make me happier than anything, ‘cause they’re so tough to find, and they can bring me to a whole new world. I’ve got a makeshift desk and chair that I built with my dads one year, and in the corner there’s a nest of extra blankets and pillows that I curl into whenever I read.

When Adrian follows me into the room, I turn to him with a question I desperately want to ask. It bites into my thoughts and stays there, but I hesitate. What I want to say is ’Heart condition?’ But what I actually say is decidedly less invasive. The question hangs in the air, but I don’t dare ask about it.

”I think my clothes should fit you,” I begin, reaching to rummage through the dresser. ”They might be a little too snug or too big, but at least they’ll be dry.”

I find him a pair of loose, soft gray pants for sleeping. They’re maybe a little worn, but they’re comfortable. Then I fish out a sweater that my grandma also made; it’s knitted wool and the color of pine needles.

”Should be comfy,” I say, smiling at the memory of receiving the sweater as a gift.

But god, the question lingers in the back of my mind. Before he goes to change, I ask him meekly: ”So about the heart condition… was that true?”

Lyrics from Try to Be Hopeful by the Spook School

[Deleted]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS WORN YOUR
FLAWS UPON YOUR SLEEVE ―

Adrian had mixed feelings about them stopping the conversation so soon. Part of him was grateful it had ended before he had to reveal too much information about himself. Plus, he could tell already that Frost was a bad liar. The lie wasn't a big one, and that's what made it suspicious if his parents found out.

There was no real reason for them to lie about being friends, and so if his parents knew it was a lie that's when the real questions would stand out. How did you two meet? Why isn't he at his own home? Who really is Adrian Navarre? Those were the questions he really wanted to avoid at all costs if possible.

Though, he also wanted to get to know Frosts parents and Frost better. Hell, he even wanted to get to know his younger brother Femury or whatever his name was. Though, Tailboney didn't seem too interested in Adrian. He just saw everything he missed about his own family in the Fitzsimmons family. It made him long for that kind of family again.

The Navarre family used to cook together like them. But now? Adrian was an okay cook but it was lonely cooking. And even after he finished him and his father either ate in silence or completely different rooms. His home may have only been one person less now, but it felt so empty. The Fitzsimmons home felt full of life, much like how his used to be.

Funnily enough, Frosts room reminded Adrian of his own room. A sense of organized chaos and piles of books filled the room. Plus, these days his bedroom was one of the few places he felt truly safe. And despite this being the room of a stranger, he felt safe here. The third place he felt safe was Killua's house. It took a while for him to adjust but even before they started dating Killua would always let Adrian stay with him whenever his dad kicked him out - no questions asked.

Adrian couldn't help but laugh a bit when he saw the pants Frost expected him to fit into. They were similarly built for the most part, except in one aspect. Height. Adrian was a good few inches taller than Frost, probably four to six inches taller. The pants would definitely end up towards the top of his ankles, but fit otherwise. And he hadn't been able to make a single smart ass comment this whole time.

"I think the pants would fit me perfectly! If I was about a foot shorter. But, they'll work. Thanks man."

He was about to ask where a bathroom was when Frost asked him a follow up question. The question was about if he actually had a heart condition. Adrian was a bit surprised he even asked. Then again, Frost had no reason to trust him. Plus unlike Adrians friends he didn't know about his mother passing away.

"I do have a heart condition. And I wouldn't lie about it, my late mother had the same condition. And her passing really effected my entire family. You shouldn't worry too much though, I've only had issues twice. Once after training and once after a situation with my boyfriend and close friend. It makes sense though, the two biggest triggers are physical exertion and stress."

He completely missed the fact that he just outed himself to Frost. Normally he was hyperaware of anything regarding his sexuality and knew to avoid it. But, it was probably due to the fact that he knew he was somewhere safe. Frost wouldn't lash out violently towards him for being gay or call him hateful words or even think negatively towards him. At least, he assumed not considering he had two dads.

He didn't lie to Frost, but he did withhold some information. He didn't mention the fact that this condition was the leading cause of sudden cardiac death in young athletes under the age of 30 - the exact demographic that Adrian fell into. He wasn't going to explicitly say that this condition is what killed his mother. Nor that he was the one who found her dead after she had sudden cardiac death. And he sure as fuck wasn't going to say what happened with his dad after his mom passed.

"Do you mind if I take a quick like five minute shower real quick? I want to get some of the sand and shit off. Plus, the sweater is nice and I don't want to damage it somehow."

ADRIAN NAVARRE

[by sixsmith]
[lyrics by bastille]