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honey lemon tea
volume one; before
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Elora feels her eyes gloss over as she lays in bed, thinking of everything that could have been. Had she never been reaped, she would have graduated school and gone on to become a teacher. It was something she often dreamed of, teaching younger children how to blossom despite the harsh world they inhabit. Finnick often tells her she would have been a wonderful teacher, if they lived somewhere else. A different world in a different time.
Elora likes to imagine her life without the games. Her and Finnick would live together, as they often discussed. She knew that without the games perhaps they wouldn't have met, but she likes to think a bond as strong as theres is fate. The games had nothing to do with it, they were cast together by the universe, and without the games they would have found their way to each other eventually. He would be a fisherman, like his father had before him. They would carry on the legacies of their families. Finnick would meet Annie, and without the games to destroy her spirit, they would be married with children. Elora would teach them, and care for them, as she would with all the children of the district.
Perhaps that was why she took such a strong liking to Dawn. At the young age of fourteen, Dawn Fadley had beaten all odds and become the victor of the 73rd hunger games. Elora remembered her games vividly, not because they had only taken place last year, but for the sheer amount of will power displayed by the child. Dawn had the heart of a lion and the brain of a snake, brave yet cunning all at once. Elora often finds herself wishing she could display similar acts of courage, yet she falls short every time. Her ambition and mindset of self preservation prevents her almost every time.
She knew what Dawn would say, knew the exact reaction the young girl would display, but that doesn't stop her words from hurting any less.
"You're a coward, Elora."
Tears sting the edges of her eyes, threatening escape. Dawns word strike down deep into her heart. Perhaps she was not ready to face the truth. That she could have the next week and a half with her soulmate, and perhaps a lifetime after that, should she abandon her fears.
"You have an opportunity that few get to experience. With the division of the districts, soul mates are rare. Here you have one, someone who will complete you in the best way possible, and yet you hide."
Elora knows this. She knew it when she ran from him after their first brush of skin. She knew when she spent the remainder of that day trying to pretend it never happened. He had reached out to her, been close enough to feel his breath on her body, yet she had turned away from his as though he was nothing. As thought he meant nothing to her. She clenches her eyes at the though, at the idea that she had hurt him before even speaking to him.
Dawn doesn't understand. She's young and innocent and pure. Her games had been gentle on her and while Elora had no doubt that the young girl was scarred beyond measure, she had not become a cold hearted killer. Dawn did not awake to blood most morning, nor did she dream of the souls she destroyed without mercy. Elora was a killer, she was a destroyer. She could not be trusted with something so beautiful because in her eyes that's exactly what he was, a beautiful boy.
Elora Clarke would not be the one to break him.
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Cato Hadley had once thought himself to be unshakeable. He feared no one and he had volunteered for the gamed with a clear mind. Now, he lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, the man he was a mere two days ago unrecognisable. All his thoughts centred around training, around the games, and brining honour to his district. Now all he though about was her.
Elora Clarke was a wonder to behold. Not only was she beautiful, but she carried herself with a confidence and grace that was rare to come by. The district four beauty was apparent, with highlights bleached from days spent under the sun and freckles dusting her body like the most incredible constellation.
Cato wanted to feel normal again. To have no cares in the world. To wash away this desperation and sorrow that swallowed him only to spit him back out again. She had overtaken his mind, and despite how perfect he knew they would be together, she refused to even glance his way. She ran from him every time. All he wanted was to reach out, to feel his skin on hers, a simple touch would be enough for him. He clenched his jaw, willing himself to allow the anger to take over. To be bitter with her behaviour, to turn against her like he did all the others who had mistreated him. In the end, it didn't matter how much he wanted to hate her the way she did him. He was incapable.
Rolling out of bed he catches the time on his bedside table. Far too late to be awake when he has training in the morning. The first of three days, each spent showing off his talents to the other tributes. Making them fear him and making the game makers understand his skill.
He stumbles out of his bedroom in search of something, but he's not sure what. He fumbles at the elevator doors, unsure of where his final destination is. His eyes find the button labelled four, hovering his finger above it with an uncertainty that would ultimately his longing to see her. Instead, he selects the rooftop and slumps against the wall of the elevator. The distress at the thought of her hatred consumes him, and he wonders how he'll make it through the games like this. How he'll make it back to her.
The doors to the elevator open and the fresh air helps to clear his head. His heart starts to race, and he senses her presence before her sees her. The moonlight shines down at her, and he is struck by how beautiful she is. If he had thought the lights in the capitol buildings did her any justice, he was mistaken. Seeing her here, like this, stunned him. She was a peace, her guard was down, and she no longer hid behind her capitol mask.
Standing before him was not Elora the capitol darling, but Elora Clarke from district four.
Before he can begin to imagine what she's like at home, while she basks in the sun and sand, she whips her head around to face him. Cato feels his heart drop to his stomach at the fear that overtakes her once peaceful expression. She turns away from him again, but he takes some comfort in the way the fear slides away.
"You scared me, I wasn't expecting anyone".
Her voice soothed his heart like the honey lemon tea his mother makes when he's sick, coating him in warmth. He doesn't know how he hasn't heard her voice before, but he decides then and there that he never wants to stop hearing her speak.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to".
She glances over at him, a gentle smile on her face. Bruce had always called her weak, said her softness made her pathetic, but he could only see strength in her kindness.
He sits next to her, the distance between the two almost laughable. Elora can feel her hair stand on end against her own accord, her skin itching to feel his touch. She thinks back on the way she sits next to Finnick, pressed up against each other without so much as an inch between them. She starts to think that if Cato makes it back, if he survives these games, she will be like that with him always. Cato finds his eyes following every movement she makes, from the slightest twitch of a finger to the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.
"Are you cold? You've got goosebumps".
He feels foolish after pointing out the obvious but Elora simply shrugs. She can'd find it in herself to be surprised he notices, every pair of soul mates she's ever met are so incredibly in tune with each other.
"I've been hard on you but you have to understand. You may not be coming back, and I don't want to make this any harder on either of us".
Elora can feel his eyes burning into the side of her face. His gaze is unwavering, carrying an intensity she doesn't dare question. She feels the slightest brush of skin against hers, a hand reaching out to grasp her own. This time, she doesn't turn away. His hand are large, far larger than hers, and calloused from his time spent with a sword.
They stay like that till Elora tells Cato to get some sleep, and then they stay like that for a little more. Hands intertwined in the night, Cato feels as though he would do anything to come back to her.
In his mind, he promises her a life. One where she isn't waking up afraid every day and she has finally washed the blood clean.
He promises himself he's coming back to her.