PROTECT.

‘ they say you’re brothers a hero. ‘

             He listens. Each tap upholding more MAGNITUDE than the next, growing with an eery cloud of trepidation; keeping count with the numbers by three,  almost READY to disregard. One would like to think he’d know Rory well enough, maybe not DISTINCTLY as he would have thought. Such a notion already brings discomfort to his desolate posture, the position to which he’s made HIMSELF aquatinted with laying back on a solid mattress, voices for his very own state of mind to hear;  the tranquility engulfing every breathing soul, all PROCEEDING with forethought. Oblivious towards the natural FEAR that would strike their hearts to it’s centre —  NOT ALONE ever but it’s always made things seem effortless NEVER needing their support because more than well, it remained Gale’s only duty to GIVE back. Footsteps OVERSTEPPING give off the sound of ambling, slow tattered breaths vacate his vocal chords not from exhaustion but another meaning. Rory to be pictured for a FOOL is a ridicule, the middle child indistinct during his YOUTH came as something natural in the spirit of things, overtime just showing his true colours by fault. The consequences for his own undertaking had been SHATTERING for all of them, coming to face with that all over again was something to pitifully regret but there he was, standing over the doorway –  for once maybe, just maybe they’re on the same page like they had been before. 

          Accommodating himself into an upright position they’re both eventually on CUSTOMARY terms, the muscles over his abdomen giving off the split second of a throb, though vaguely giving no indication for the public’s eye,  ❛ What d’you want? ❜  The RESPONSE given comes across as a jibe – brusque was what he was going for but even minor details are far out from his reach, he goes with what he has. 

          although he held high expectations when approaching this particular situation, rory knew he shouldn’t have. gale had much more to worry about than his family at the time. the eldest hawthorne’s response almost shoved a scoff right out of his mouth, as if it had been the wrong answer. a question in response for a question always followed up with either an argument or a cliff-hanging conversation. rory wasn’t in the mood for either of them. while his younger years proved him to be a coward, falling limp beneath the grasp of everyone else’s bite, rory was different now. he used to be a good kid, one that listened and did as he was told. then, the rebellion came along. somewhere along in the back of his mind, he would kill to see the look on gale’s face if he’d ever found out about the trouble the younger hawthorne had stirred up with the peacekeepers, or if gale knew about the tesserae he’d taken out to feed his family. 

          where was she? now that she was all trained and almost somewhat professional, rory didn’t see much of prim. the whole rebellion thing really split them apart, which didn’t sit well with the younger hawthorne boy. that’s why he sets off into unknown parts of the safe haven, not even bothering to try and hide from anyone. nobody cared. he could do whatever he wanted, right?

          lying seemed to be common in the hawthorne family. whether it was about not being hungry so a sibling could get more food, or about how they were currently feeling, someone was always lying. rory was the worst at it. years and years of practice, yet he could never seem to master the art of fooling someone else. the nerves in his body would bounce, a curse that would continue to stay with him for years to come. maybe it was his constant anxiety, or maybe it was just all in his head. he was never too sure. one thing he was definitely sure of, though, was that he needed to keep a close eye on his siblings, especially posy. her innocence ( although already tainted and torn from the rebellion ) was precious, almost fragile in an older brother’s eyes. nothing bad could happen to her, emotionally or mentally. not on rory’s watch.