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31_days2014-01-05 05:17 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2014-01-05 05:17 pm
[Jan. 5] [THG] Secret Heart
Title: Secret Heart
Day/Theme: Jan. 5, 2014 "because something beautiful was hidden there"
Series: Hunger Games trilogy
Character/Pairing: Woof & his mentor (you might recognize him- Pal Fields- if you've read other THG fic of mine)
Rating: PG
"You're afraid," says the boy.
"What?" Pal asks, face snapping up from the quilt in his lap that he's been working on with furious intensity for at least as long as Eight's newest victor has been conscious.
"You're afraid to love anything. Well," he amends, "Anything except sewing. Anything they can hurt."
"Don't you say that," the older victor (but not so old, all of this is relative) shushes him, his face all tense and thin in a way that makes the boy wonder what he himself looks right now, because Pal could've come out of the arena with a face like that- he could've and he didn't even when he really did, as best as the boy can remember.
"It's true." He doesn't mean to fight, but to understand. "I'm not sure I've ever even heard you say my name."
"…I know it," Pal answers, more threat than promise, though he's hardly frightening after all the things that the boy has just been through in the arena.
"Say it then," the boy pushes. So he provokes his mentor? So what? He's survived the Hunger Games- what is left to lose?
It seems like it takes him some effort to actually let the words out. "You're Woof Cambray."
Woof smiles at his mentor, who is really a very nice person even if he's afraid to love anyone or anything. He would if he felt he could. "Thanks, Mr. Pal."
"Just 'Pal,'" he shrugs. "It's okay."
And Woof keeps smiling.
"You know," Pal returns to his sewing, though he works at a slower, more casual rate, "You're right that I'm afraid, but you're wrong if you think because of that I don't love anything. …I already love you, for one."
And that's where Woof is struck dumb and awkward, because if that isn't about the last thing he expected his mentor to say to him- in a Capitol hospital when they've known one another for all of, well can the time he was in the arena actually even be said to count? They've known each other for something like nine days!
"I love you, but that doesn't mean I can protect you," Pal goes on, warning him.
And the shape of Silk, Eight's second victor, dead longer than she had to enjoy her victory, wafts between them. Woof isn't stupid. He gets the gist of what Pal means.
…on the other hand, what the kind of love he spoke of is still elusive. Woof won't ask. He'll just live and see what it means.
Pal keeps on sewing.
Day/Theme: Jan. 5, 2014 "because something beautiful was hidden there"
Series: Hunger Games trilogy
Character/Pairing: Woof & his mentor (you might recognize him- Pal Fields- if you've read other THG fic of mine)
Rating: PG
"You're afraid," says the boy.
"What?" Pal asks, face snapping up from the quilt in his lap that he's been working on with furious intensity for at least as long as Eight's newest victor has been conscious.
"You're afraid to love anything. Well," he amends, "Anything except sewing. Anything they can hurt."
"Don't you say that," the older victor (but not so old, all of this is relative) shushes him, his face all tense and thin in a way that makes the boy wonder what he himself looks right now, because Pal could've come out of the arena with a face like that- he could've and he didn't even when he really did, as best as the boy can remember.
"It's true." He doesn't mean to fight, but to understand. "I'm not sure I've ever even heard you say my name."
"…I know it," Pal answers, more threat than promise, though he's hardly frightening after all the things that the boy has just been through in the arena.
"Say it then," the boy pushes. So he provokes his mentor? So what? He's survived the Hunger Games- what is left to lose?
It seems like it takes him some effort to actually let the words out. "You're Woof Cambray."
Woof smiles at his mentor, who is really a very nice person even if he's afraid to love anyone or anything. He would if he felt he could. "Thanks, Mr. Pal."
"Just 'Pal,'" he shrugs. "It's okay."
And Woof keeps smiling.
"You know," Pal returns to his sewing, though he works at a slower, more casual rate, "You're right that I'm afraid, but you're wrong if you think because of that I don't love anything. …I already love you, for one."
And that's where Woof is struck dumb and awkward, because if that isn't about the last thing he expected his mentor to say to him- in a Capitol hospital when they've known one another for all of, well can the time he was in the arena actually even be said to count? They've known each other for something like nine days!
"I love you, but that doesn't mean I can protect you," Pal goes on, warning him.
And the shape of Silk, Eight's second victor, dead longer than she had to enjoy her victory, wafts between them. Woof isn't stupid. He gets the gist of what Pal means.
…on the other hand, what the kind of love he spoke of is still elusive. Woof won't ask. He'll just live and see what it means.
Pal keeps on sewing.