feeling brave { rose / evie }

[k!ah]

My cheek ached and I tasted blood. Panting I reach out to the guy flat on his ass, my lips pulled back into a shit eating grin. He was two years older than me, top of his class, and I had finally thrown his ass to the mat. I had been working with him for months now, each even sparring until the bruises on my knuckles ripped open. I had copped a fist to the face earlier, so focused on his footing that I had forgotten to protect myself. He had not hesitated in taking full advantage, wearing his own shot eating grin that had had sent a flush of adrenaline to crash into me like a tidal wave into the shore on a stormy night.

But then I had finically swept him off his feet, a surprised grunt escaping his lips moment before the air is knocked from his lungs.

He takes my hand, allowing me to pull him to his feet. "You finally did it Evie! I'm gonna be honest, I didn't think you had it in you," he teases, wrapping an arm around my throat and roughly running his knuckles across the crown of my head. I struggle in his arms, demanding he let me go as he chuckles, freeing me with a gentle shove. "Go clean up, I'll walk you home."

Grinning I love into the change rooms, the adrenaline that coursed through me didn't have me shying away from his request. I felt good. In fact I felt amazing. Weeks and weeks of hard work finally paid off had my head floating in the clouds. I didn't need Darla by my side, I didn't need to shy away from her light, because tonight I was my own light, my fire burning so bright that it would need more than a gentle cooling freeze to snuff it out.

Showering I pull my legs into some fresh jean short before slipping on a pale pink singlet. I adjusting my hair to try and hide the bruise that was forming on my jaw, but it was a fruitless attempt. Shrugging I give up, tossing my gym back over my shoulder. Logan waits for me by the door, straightening as I come to his side. "Ready?"

"Yep," I say with a bright smile, enjoying the feeling of the cooling night air against exposed skin.

"You know, you always seem different when you are in the ring compared to when I see you in the mornings. More confident." His words seem genuine, but they still spark insecurity within me, causing my smile to drop slightly. It was true, outside of the ring, when my blood wasn't intoxicated with adrenaline I would have struggled to even get a whole sentence out, my timidness evident with fumbled words and averted eyes. I would have passed the attention onto Darla, desperate to escape the light, even though I craved to be part of it.

"I guess when I am in the ring, when I am sparring, with the adrenaline and the crowd... I think the energy fills me, gives me confidence I can't achieve in my day to day life." I pause, my smile growing, "and I am damn good at it."

My gaze passes over Logan, to the beach and I stop, my blonde hair glowing orange in the setting sun. "It's so beautiful. You go on, I think I might just hang out a little longer." Logan gives me a wave, taking off towards his place. I watch him for a moment longer, remembering the time when just speaking to him had my stomach flipping widely in my stomach. Slowly, so very slowly, I was becoming more and more comfortable to be myself around him.

Sighing I slip off my shoes, barefoot slipping between grains of cold sand as I made my way deeper onto the shore. People littered the sandy coast line, in pairs, with family, even a few on their own. Had it of been another day I might have just taken a seat on the sand, alone, watching the sun sink below the ocean painting the sky with vibrant colours. But tonight I was feeling brave, and I could hear Darla whispering in my ear to 'get it girl'.

Taking a deep breath I push my shoulders back, my lips a welcoming smile as I take a seat next to a beautiful blonde, slipping off my gym bag I give her my biggest, warmest smile, "Hey- hi! I'm Evie, and - well, isn't it just such a beautiful night! Like, just breathtaking, right?" Well, sure it wasn't perfect, but it was baby steps right? Chuckling slightly I reset, "Evie. My names Evie and I am terrible at introductions. A name- do you? Do you have a name,? sorry!"

[alex 🐺]

r o s e;

Things hadn’t felt right since Ross died. Since Noel and Bell and then Beck had come back and everything that had changed had shifted and morphed into something else.

Something different.

Hailsham wasn’t the same. The halls were quieter. No new kids came and those that aged out of the Games, well, they didn’t last that long. Everyone at Hailsham had an expiration date. Except for Beck, of course, but Rose didn’t blame him for not coming back to the institute. He was better off in the Victor’s Village. He was better off gone and away from the ghosts haunting these halls.

Even the studio no longer held the silence, but it carried whispers. Whispers that followed and a voice that could no longer speak. A voice that couldn’t sing. Rose had tried so many times after she had seen Noel and Bell breathe their last to write something for them, an aria or a poem to bid their souls rest in another world. But she could never bring herself to utter a single chord.

What was a songbird without her song?

She was flightless, grounded. She had wings that could not take her away from here. And now, after her lessons and after the hours of endless sparring, she climbs the high ivy-covered walls, her legs taking her away from the institute and away from the memories, if only for the evening. She finds herself at the water’s edge, arms wrapped around her legs, the wind trailing through her hair like a lover’s caress. It was the sound that brought her here. The waves crashing was enough of mother nature’s fury and wrath that the silence didn’t feel so loud. She imagined herself a rock in the ocean, worn smooth by endless touch from the water, her jagged edges gone. She imagined she could be away from here—away from the institute and the district. Adrift in the ocean, like a forgotten island.

A voice breaks through the sound of the surf crashing against the shore and Rose turns to her side, the last rays of the sun reflecting off of the water. Golden hour, and the girl's hair sparkles like spun gold in the red and pink sky.  The girl smiles at her, all bravado and pink cheeks and Rose feels herself smiling back despite herself.

She wasn’t—they weren’t supposed to talk to anyone outside of the institute. But then again, there were a lot of things she wasn’t supposed to be doing, namely leaving the institute after training and escaping to the beach. Oh well, what were they going to do? Kill her?

"Hey-hi! I'm Evie, and-well, isn't it just such a beautiful night! Like, just breathtaking, right?" The girl barrels ahead and doesn’t even seem to need Rose’s intervention in the conversation until she pauses, taking a breath. "Evie. My name's Evie and I am terrible at introductions. A name-do you? Do you have a name? Sorry!"

“Do you often find girls on the beach and ask them their names, Evie?” Rose replies, resting her head on her arms and glancing at the girl. “My name is Rose. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

[k!ah]

I was nervous, the adrenaline from the ring wearing off and it was starting to feel like someone had tipped a bucket of ice cold water over my head. What the hell was I doing? This wasn't me. I was Evie Harlot, the quiet girl who kept to herself, preferring the company of a book, hiding away from beautiful eyes and sweet smiles.

Fiddling the strap of my gym bag I feel myself begin to close up, ready to find a scrambled excuse and jump to my feet, leaving the girl sitting on the shore confused about the odd encounter, but not thinking much of it because she didn't know me and I didn't know her.

But then the stranger returns my smile and I feel my nerves ease ever so slightly. She glances up at me, her head resting on her arms, the sinking sun turning her blonde hair golden. I try not to stare too long, averting my gaze. Though if I looked away then maybe she might think that I am not listening, that I am not into the conversation I started. But if I stared she might get creeped out- what if I don't blink enough? Or if I blink too much?

Thoughts scrambled I turned away, worried that my turmoil might be easily read on my face.

“Do you often find girls on the beach and ask them their names, Evie?”

Oh no, she could tell. A breathy laughter escapes my lips, my eyes darting to hers and then away again.

She tells me that her name is Rose and I can't help but think that it is beautiful. Roses, though sharp, were one of the most elegant flowers. In any ways a symbol of romance, a beautiful red rose giving to those that you loved. I remember a time when a boy had handed me a rose, sweet words mumbled to deaf ears I had taken it with flushed cheeks and ran.

When I had told Darla she had broken down into laughter, sobbing as she clutched her stomach. I had then thrown my pillow at her and told her to piss off. She had, tears in her eyes as she tossed the pillow back at me.

"Can't you tell? I do this sort of thing all the t-time!" The joke slips past my lips, stumbling over the punch line a little. "Rose is a lovely name."

[alex 🐺]

r o s e;

What was a songbird without her song?

Rose watches her—Evie, she said her name was, her eyes darting around before landing on Rose before flittering away like sparrows. Rose likes her eyes, she decides, even as the rays of the sun dip towards the horizon. She wonders what they would look like when the moon was full and the water was reflecting the bright constellations above them. Looking up though, the light pollution from Four was no doubt blocking all of the galaxies swirling above them.

Rose turns, a glance back to the institute and the path that she had taken to the water’s edge. She was missing dinner, surely, and her absence would be noted, of course. She’s no longer afraid of what they would do to her. Not after losing everyone. Not after losing herself.

Glancing back at Evie, who is still all bravado and flushed cheeks, Rose smiles softly.

"Can't you tell? I do this sort of thing all the t-time!" Rose stretches her arms out in front of her as she kicked her legs out, toes digging into the sand. Evie compliments her name and she nods, unsure of what to say.

“I’d say thank you but I’m not sure I can take credit for something that happened when I was born,” Rose leans back on her arms, eyes locked on Evie. “Evie's a lovely name as well, as I'm sure you know. Are you always this kind, though? You came here straight from training, so I’m assuming you’re a Career? I never pegged a Career to be so, so outgoing.”

Rose raises an eyebrow and nods at the gym bag. Evie had the bearing of a Career—she’s all long limbs and square shoulders and she held her head high. She was too—too nice though. The arena would eat her alive. And even if she did hold herself like Areto Pavalis, that was no guarantee of victory.

What was a songbird without her song?

Rose wasn’t sure anymore. She wants to beg Evie to tell her about life outside of the institute, about training and free will and a life that wasn’t dictated by the uncertainties of the future. If she even had one. But the words die on her tongue and are carried away by the breeze.