𑣲⋆ reese

Logan had lost count of the days he'd spent in this cold arena. He couldn't remember how many nights he'd slept in trees, how many nights he'd spent walking with Oscar, wondering which would be their last.

It was something they all knew no teenager should have to endure. Being thrown into this place and forced to kill for the Capitol's entertainment.

What did anyone even truly get out of it?

They called it Survival. The Victor would return to their home in the Victor's Village, reuniting with their families to live in what the Capitol called "Peace". But Logan had heard stories of the past "winners".

How to this day, they would wake up in a cold sweat, shaking, their minds still locked in the arena they'd escaped years ago. So was it really worth it?

No.

It couldn't be. The entire process was sickening.

He knew that now as he moved silently through the trees, Oscar walking a few short steps behind, keeping watch of the forest that they'd both learned could be deadly if you let your guard down.

"So what's five like?" Logan asked, trying to fill the haunting silence between the two.

Oscar paused.

"It's fine." He replied, "Big. Lots of... electricity."

Logan raised a brow at that response, a disbelieved chuckle escaping him. "So not very interesting?"

"Wouldn't say so."

They found a suitable spot to set up a moment later, Oscar making quick work of scaling a tree and tying himself off, eyes fixated on the setting sun while Logan followed behind.

He slung their bag around one of the branches, hanging off by the strap as he tied himself off.

"How about your family?" Logan said through a grunt while he hoisted himself up to a higher branch.

"Um. Big as well, I guess." He replied, "I have three sisters, and my parents. Full house. Still feels a little lonely though."

"Wish I could make it less lonely." Logan blurted out, and grimaced immediately after as if his words had an aftertaste.

Oscar snorted a laugh, looking up at him with that familiar glint in his eyes that would normally make his heart jump.

But instead, it sank.

"Hey, did you ever... figure out how many tributes are left?" He questioned.

"Four. Us, and the kids from District 1."

Logan's chest tightened, but he tried to play it off.

"Maybe they'll take each other out." He shrugged.

He didn't want to think about what would happen if they did, though.

Logan would rather die at the hands of a snarky career than those of the man he'd grown far too fond of.

He knew it was stupid. But his heart had a different way of working, even when his head knew that one of them wouldn't make it out of there.

As if on cue, the sound of a cannon echoed through the forest, making Logan flinch.

Three.

Only three remained.

Logan almost wondered what had happened.

Maybe they'd driven a spear through their heart, stabbing their district mate in the back like so many others had done. Maybe they'd shot them with an arrow, or maybe it'd just been an unfortunate accident.

They may never know.

The Capitol's anthem echoed across the arena as Logan shifted his tired gaze to the sky.

District 1, Charles Leclerc.

The hologram made him feel almost sick to his stomach, a living picture of a dead man.

But that was the game.

Oscar's expression caught his eye a moment later. How his eyes widened ever so slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"You know him?" Logan asked quietly.

"We spoke." Oscar shrugged. "Back in group training, he... seemed like a good guy."

Logan didn't respond.

Everyone seemed good if you spoke to them long enough.

That's why he'd kept to himself in training, he didn't want to see the other tributes. Fearing that seeing their humanity would stop him from doing what he needed to survive.

Ironic, wasn't it?

He'd kept his distance to avoid caring. Only to find himself sharing food, stories, and too much vulnerability with the one person he could never afford to love.

"This place isn't built for sympathy." Logan said. "The more you feel for someone, the harder it is to pull the trigger."

Oscar nodded.

"Sounds philosophical."

"I'm serious."

"I know." Oscar huffed.

Logan looked away, "I just... wish things could've been different."

"We all do." The other man finally met his eyes, "But there's nothing we can do now."

Logan let out a shaky breath, trying to swallow back the words that he'd been holding for days.

But he couldn't hold them anymore.

"I don't mean the games. Like sure, it sucks and I hate it here," He laughed weakly, shaking his head. "But I mean us."

His voice cracked.

"I wish I could've met you somewhere else. Where we weren't given weapons and told to kill each other." He rested his head against the tree.

"I wish I'd gotten to know you before we both knew one of us wasn't going to make it out of here. I wish I could— I could care about you without thinking about which one of us is going to leave with the other's blood on our hands."

And then he stopped, trying to calm himself as tears threatened to escape. It was almost embarrassing.

Oscar was staring directly at him, his expression full of... something. It was hard to place.

He feared he'd ruined everything.

Then Oscar opened his mouth to speak, closing it for a moment in hesitation before the words came.

"I've been trying to ignore that." He murmured, "I don't want to think about that day, but when it comes..."

A pause, thinking his next words out carefully.

"I don't want you to be afraid to make the move." He stated. "I mean, from the start you seemed more bound for survival than I have. I want you to go home to your family."

Oscar shifted slightly on the branch he'd perched on, reaching up to pat Logan's leg.

"I really do care about you. More than I thought I could have, and even though we can't change the present... I'm happy I've been able to work with you."

Those words struck Logan straight in the heart.

He rested his hand on top of Oscar's, because he knew the words wouldn't come to him.

There was nothing he could say to make anything about this hurt less.

But the silence felt a little less terrifying with him.

For a moment, it truly did feel like tomorrow didn't exist. Because right now they weren't fighting for survival, they were just two boys sitting in a tree, pretending they had more time than they did.

Logan drifted off first, head lulled to the side as his breathing steadied.

Oscar followed him into rest, their hands staying interlocked until his arm eventually came back to his side.

Tomorrow was a new story.