The Reaper | F. Odair

One

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Aaron
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I jerk awake from the loud banging on my front door. No, just let me sleep forever. The literal day I come back home from the Capitol, the day Quarter Quell is announced. I'm thrown back onto a train to the Capitol due to the massive income and demand of clients.
I'm here for only a few more weeks, why wouldn't they want me in their beds one last time? To make it worse, I had to work without Sage and Nero for these recent ones.
My body aches as I turn onto my back. My couch isn't a good spot to sleep on honestly, but I was just way too tired and exhausted, so I cried myself to sleep here. I look over to my fireplace, broken glass from bottles and just plain old drinking glasses surround it. I haven't taken care of this place at all, even if I had the time I just don't have the motivation to move.

Someone bangs the door again.

"Coming!" I shout, rolling off my couch and flopping onto the floor.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and get to my feet, my knees and shoulders cracking from how stiffy my body is. My fingers curl around the door's key, twisting it and pulling the door open. My eyes go wide at his face, his pearly whites shine and his arms raise.

"Aaron!"

"Nero--"

His arms encase my smaller body in seconds, pulling me closer and squeezing me into a loving hug. He pulls away, kissing me on the cheek as he does, "how are you? Oh, happy birthday by the way, I cannot believe you're already twenty-one! Ugh, just look at you! It feels like years since we last saw each other, it's hard to think it was merely a few months ago!"

I chuckle slowly and wipe at my eyes, "my birthday was weeks ago, and I'm okay I suppose." I scan his body, he hasn't changed. Besides the few new wrinkles, he still looks like a man in his mid twenties, and now he's somehow still looking twenty-five at the age of thirty-nine.

It doesn't even feel like I've worked with him for over five years now. He hasn't changed since I've met him, style wise. Lots of leather and furs, as usual.

He peeks around my shoulder, I tense up at his face dropping into a frown, "are you sure you're alright, Aaron?"

I quickly nod, glancing back around to the mess behind me, "yeah, everything is fine, I've just been... busy, is all. Can I take your jacket?" I say, looking up at him and noticing the ends of his hair is now dyed red.

"Mhm... oh, this?" he slings his gray fury coat off and gestures to the crimson coloured tips of his hair, "Don't you worry, dear. It's just a new fashion trend."

"Uhuh... Can I get you anything to drink?" I ask, taking his jacket.

Nero walks further into my house, shutting the door behind him. I can feel the anxiety rise, I don't need him to worry about me, honestly. I hang up his furry gray coat, extremely high off the ground to not ruin it and turn back to him. He's staring at the broken glass in my living room. He turns back towards me, his dark eyes lock onto my own blue, pleading for me to expose the truth. It's as if he's asking, 'are you sure?'

I slowly nod and walk towards the kitchen.

"Just a black coffee, if you don't mind." He says, crossing his arms and looking around at the photographs on my walls. I can't remember the last time Nero has been in my house, but I know for a fact that last time it actually looked clean... And I had just moved in, I think...

I awkwardly get into my own kitchen and put the kettle on, ignoring the pile of plates and browns in my sink as I do. Nero's face looks even sadder as I turn towards a cabinet catching his eye as I reach for a clean white mug.