RAINFALL || [c. snow]

ix

ACT II. RECTITUDE

❝DENIAL, ANGER, BARGAINING, AND DEPRESSION. THERE WAS NO ACCEPTANCE❞ 

𓆩⟡𓆪

WORDS CANNOT EXPLAIN the relief she felt when she spotted Otto in the long line of tributes. They, the Peacekeepers, had informed her that he was alright but it still never put the thought to rest until Dolores saw him with her own eyes. She scrambled to adjust the bag across her shoulder, trying to refrain from smiling joyfully.

It was hardly the time to celebrate– not when the arena loomed over them along with his impending doom. He will survive, Dolores assured herself. I will make it happen. She needed more than one miracle now, but she can manage.

"Otto–" She reached towards him, grasping his hands briefly before a Peacekeeper nudged them apart. A barrier between worlds that made her grit her teeth. Dolores looked over his face. Otto looked paler than he was before, cowering under a brown painter's hat. No, he must have been starving.

"Dolly. Are you okay?" Despite everything, he was the one to ask her the question first.

No. Dr. Gaul did a horrific thing to Clemmie before my eyes and I enjoyed every second of it. She wanted to confess, but instead she nodded stiffly, "Anything is okay compared to what they made you go through. Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I should have visited sooner, but the Peacekeepers won't let me."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Otto smiled softly, making her heart clench with guilt.

The Peacekeepers removed the heavy metal bars from the entrance, revealing a long line of turnstiles. As each mentor and their tribute passed through them, a sweet voice exclaimed merrily, "Enjoy the show!" The voice made Dolores' stomach churn.

"Everything is going to be okay," she whispered, careful to not let her voice echo in the vast space of the Arena. The inside was imposing, crimson and gold flags of the Capitol hanging from every corner. She must confess that she absolutely despised the arena with every fiber of her body, from the vastness of the field to grandeur of the ceiling still showing through the decay.

Towering rows of seats made her feel diminished to the point of insignificance. A spectacle. Was this how it felt like to be a raindrop in a flood? The blood of one person after the war?

"Thank you, Dolly," Otto murmured, "for everything."

"Don't thank me. I'm no good. Probably one of the reasons why you're even in this bloody mess," Her heart twisted in her chest. "I should be thanking you instead."

"I wouldn't have survived without you, Dolly. That day when the Peacekeeper opened fire on Brandy... I considered standing up just to get shot," he shivered from the memory, "the only damn thing keeping me sane was the thought of your violet eyes. You taught me something as well. It's that not all Capitol citizens are undeserving of trust."

Don't say that. She wanted to say. She was no saint and certainly the last person who should deserve his trust... and yet, Dolores didn't have the heart to deny it. Instead, she forced the tears out of her eyes, "You also taught me that I was a horrible dancer."

"I think you would've made a great dancer back at District 6," he chuckled.

She couldn't help but smile as well, feeling it relinquish a bit of the weight on her back, "Really? You know how many times I tripped over my own feet that day."

"You're a good friend, Dolly. I mean it. I wish we could've met under different circumstances. Maybe at a factory or a train station. My 'ma would've treated you and the other kids to some butter cake and we would twirl around under the nighttime sky afterward," Otto murmured blissfully. There was some kind of acceptance written on his face.