Lele Come Back Home The Children Miss You🥺

The look on his face when they called his name. He was afraid, it was written in his eyes. He tried his best to remain indifferent. Maybe it was to deny the Capitol of a dramatic reaction, or an attempt to hold himself together. As if pretending everything was okay would make it so. But this was a nightmare he wasn’t ever going to wake up from. Your mentor Seulgi understood that better than anyone. Consequently, so did you.

“I’ll tell you what, I’m taking out that Capitol pretty boy first,” Jeno stated during the train ride, eating like he’d never had a meal in his life. He wasn’t the first to think it, and wasn’t the last to share the sentiment.

Wonbin quickly became the object of what everyone detested. He was the poor districts’ symbol of the wealthy elite who condemned them to this savage ritual. He was the rich districts’ example of how the Capitol’s power could be used against them. He was the Capitol’s scapegoat for all things wrong with the Games. And for the other tributes, he was an easy opponent who deserved to be eliminated

He had a target on his back and he knew it. “I mean, when will we ever get a chance to take out one of those bastards?”

Jeno wasn’t loud but he was harsh and opinionated. He’d been at the top of the male rankings for years but was only allowed to volunteer now that he had come of age. Unlike you he didn’t just expect this day to come, he anticipated it. He took the honor of representing his district seriously. Although his lack of empathy when discussing the murder of other tributes often made you uncomfortable, you never felt unsafe with the boy.

That is why when he entered your cabin on the train that first night you weren’t alarmed. You believed he was there to discuss strategy, as he was prone to do, or just unwind after a stressful day like true teenagers. Perhaps that was what he had in mind when he did what he did, but it had never crossed yours.

It all happened so fast. Him telling you how relieved he was that he got paired up with you, then caressing the side of your body as he told you how beautiful you were and that something this beautiful needed to be protected. His comments were as heated and possessive as his mouth was on yours. It was when he pushed you down onto the bed and said that his protection came at a cost that you knew something was wrong. And you did the one thing you were taught not to do: you froze.

Suddenly, the intimate actions that you’d only heard adults whisper about was happening to you, but it made you feel sick to your stomach. Foolishly, you thought that maybe Jeno had had a crush on you this whole time, that all of this was just a twisted act of love. However, deep down you knew it wasn’t. It was something darker. When he left the cabin you believed it was over, but it only got worse.

Any protests you made in future encounters were responded to with violence. Threats of letting you die a painful death in the arena, hand on your throat. “And what if I killed you right now? ‘Capitol darling found dead at the tribute center’.” His other hand ready to break your wrists.

You didn’t know when he became such a monster. Though you supposed that the training you received had something to do with it, embracing the worst traits someone could ever possess. And from what he told you about becoming a victor and having any woman he wanted, for him this wouldn’t end after the Games.

You didn’t tell anyone what was happening. Not that they would care. As long as your team could cover up the bruises and bite marks with make up and clothes, they pretended that they didn’t see anything. The only one to comment on your battered body was Wonbin.

From the moment you met him in person your heart kickstarted into overdrive. An inexplicable connection drew you together from the start.

•••

TRIBUTE PARADE

“I remember you,” he spoke softly. It was the opening ceremony, mere minutes before the Tribute Parade. You were next to your chariot, adjusting the ‘petals’ of your light pink organza dress. Careful to not ruin any of the sequin detailing. It was surprising that he had decided to talk to you, considering you were the type of tribute his father would have rigged the Games against. “You performed at the Panem Theatre in the Capitol… eight years ago. You were the youngest ballerina from the Districts to ever perform on that stage.”

You shifted unnervingly in your spot. The ribbons of your matching pink heels that were wrapped around your legs felt like they were digging into your calf muscles. Either he had been paying close attention to the coverage on all the tributes or… he was telling the truth. It was hard for you to recall a memory that had been buried for so long. You just hummed in acknowledgement.

“My mother took me,” he continued as if it were a casual conversation between acquaintances. “I thought it would be the most boring event of my life, but then there you were. Dancing like you’d never learned how to do anything else.” The dazed expression on his face made you squirm. Was this some sort of trick to make you put your guard down? To sympathize with him? To let him live long enough to kill you when you least expect it? “You looked so beautiful, I asked my mother if you were a princess. I see you haven’t changed much.”

Even as the words left his mouth, a blush crept past Wonbin’s make up. Shy despite instigating the conversation. You knew Yunjin would be satisfied that her ballerina-inspired design was receiving the desired reaction. “Thank you,” you mumbled in reply, fingers tracing along the line of sequins on your dress. “I suppose you have changed quite a bit since then.” At this he let out a soft chuckle. One you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

He certainly looked different from the Reaping. He wore a black lace undershirt with a white button up made out of bleached linen, the same used in the farmers’ clothes of District 11. Loose black pants that covered his black boots. The staple piece was a rough leather jacket slung over his shoulders, dyed black and covered in different patches of fabric from produce bags that said ‘PRODUCT OF DISTRICT 11’. You would never say it aloud but he was much more handsome in person. He had one of those faces that could attract anyone, and it did.

“Must feel great to be back home,” Jeno taunted the boy, “you know, while you still can.” He was rougher with you that night than usual. You weren’t sure if it was because of your interaction with the other boy or the little wardrobe malfunction that caused Wonbin’s jacket to fall off his shoulders while on the chariot, the wind pushing his shirt open to showcase large portions of toned skin. All the Games coverage was on him, a fan favorite among select groups of Capitol citizens.

You felt like you were suffocating inside the small apartment, your own room not being enough to give you space. You needed fresh air. That’s what brought you to the balcony overlooking the city. Initially you wanted to be alone, but finding out that Wonbin was sitting on the other side of the thin plaster wall wasn’t the worst thing. You recognized his calm voice even if you couldn’t see his face. Turns out you weren’t the only one who needed a place to breathe.

“How is… Saena, that’s her name, right?” You asked. The girl from 11 that was selected along with Wonbin. Though you didn’t know her exact age, she certainly appeared on the younger side. At the ceremony, he had helped the young girl climb onto the vehicle and whispered calmly to her as she nervously glanced at the large crowd of people. You didn’t hear what he said but whatever it was, it made the girl relax a bit.

“She’s… coping. Like the rest of us.” Wonbin hesitated before continuing as if determining if it was smart to be honest with you. Evidently, he considered it so. “She cried the whole ride here. More than I’d ever seen anyone cry.” Your heart ached unexpectedly, imagining how scared she must be. “At first, she just wanted to be left alone.”

“She didn’t trust anyone,” you interjected, eyes taking the city in as just a collection of lights blurred together.

“How could she? She was taken from her family and everything that she has ever known.” The way he lamented about Saena felt slightly foreign to you. Empathy wasn’t one of the traits tributes strived for. “She’s gotten close to our designer Ten.” He let out a quiet, low chuckle. One that didn’t contain any real humor. “I think he’s won her over.”

“And you as well.” After the Tribute Parade, you had watched as Wonbin held onto Saena’s hand while climbing down from the chariot. The girl started shaking again and quickly wrapped her arms around the older boy. He rubbed soothing circles on her back as his gaze met yours over her head. “I think it was… decent of you to make sure she was okay.” You whispered it like a confession. Almost as if anyone from your team heard you, they would beat you until you came to your senses.

“You say it like it’s something bad,” he commented on your wavering voice, a little critical. Then a beat later: “I just did what anyone else would have done.” He was being genuine. Perhaps in the real world you could feel this way but not in the Games. Empathy was a dangerous gamble to make in the arena. “Hopefully, now she doesn’t see me as a threat. I promised that I wouldn’t hurt her.”

You shook your head. Carefully leaning back against the wall. It was easy for him to say at that moment. “You think that won’t change once we enter that arena? Everything in there is a threat.”

He let out another dry laugh. “Not me. Haven’t you been watching the coverage? I’m predicted to be the first one out.” Apart from his voice there was a soft metallic ‘ting’, then again, and again. You figured he was tapping at the cross wire fence that separated you from the outside world. The Tribute Holding Center was a renovated old apartment building, small and still a little rundown, but it was a thousand times better than the zoo they used to put tributes in a few decades earlier. “I’m not going to kill because they say I have to.”

He was wrong, he had to be. That was the type of thinking that got you killed. Being from the Capitol he didn’t understand what it means to be a victor, to win the Games in the name of your District. It was an honor. “You’re not going to have a choice. It’s a matter of survival.”

“I will defend myself, hurt someone if I have to, but if something bad happens to Saena in the Games, it won’t be because of me. I won’t hurt her. She’s still a child.” You tried to contain your disagreement with a small ‘hmm’ but he saw right through it. He must have turned around to face your direction. There was the sound of shuffling coming from his end. “Would you?” He clarified before you could respond. “If we were in the arena right now, would you kill Saena?”

There was a brief moment of silence. You knew he would judge the only answer you thought was correct: “There are fates much worse than death.” Killing can be just if it’s merciful. In your mind, it would be better if you got to the girl before the rest did. At least you’d make it quick.

Still, the image of you holding onto the girl as her blood poured all over your hands woke you up in the middle of the night and continued to haunt you long after the sun rose.

•••

TRAINING

The next few days went by like a blur. Training, eating, sleeping, trying to avoid being alone with Jeno. The only thing that kept you sane was your late night balcony chats with Wonbin. It was nice to actually connect with someone who didn’t view every interaction as transactional. Someone who was still decent despite the harsh reality they’d been forced into. Even if you didn’t always see eye to eye.

“Are you going to dance for the Interviews?” Wonbin asked the night before the private training session with the Gamemakers. Training in the Capitol wasn’t much different from District 1. There was the same underlying hostility, the excessive need to size each other up. For the most part, you stuck around the other Careers. Besides Jeno that meant Minjeong and Sungchan from District 2, and this kid Anton from District 4 that Jeno hadn’t decided if he was to join the alliance or not.

They were all highly trained and when they weren’t flaunting their skills, they were critiquing the other tributes, choosing who to go after first. Oftentimes this would devolve into crude insults and comments about how easy they were to kill. You physically felt yourself cringe when they talked about Saena, saying that she’d probably cry so much that they’d have to gauge her eyes out just to get her to stop. Safe to say that you didn’t share their amusement.

It wasn’t all horrific though. In the rare moments you could sneak away you helped Wonbin with whatever task he was practicing. It started with pieces of advice here and there, then became physically showing him how to build a fire and tie different kinds of knots. For a short while it was as if Saena was attached to his hip, but she quickly found her place at the archery station. If she wasn’t there, she was climbing the trees or listening to the trainers give survival tips. She actually enjoyed those the most, Wonbin told you. It made her feel like she was still in school.

“I don’t think so,” you responded to his question, your arms wrapped around your legs. The chair you brought outside tucked in, and facing, the corner between the thin wall and chain link fence. It was where you could hear each other best. “I haven’t danced in a long time.”

“You should consider it. People around here love a special talent. They make the show’s characters much more interesting.” You laughed quietly at his word choice. The two of you had been referring to this whole ordeal as ‘the show’ for a couple days. Wonbin was the one who started using it after explaining to you exactly what the Games meant to the people of the Capitol.

“And what is your special talent?” There was a hint of playfulness in your tone that he appreciated with an amused hum. Every once in a while you’d find yourselves in these easygoing moments where you could almost see what it would have been like if you had met under different circumstances. Maybe you could have been friends. Your father designing specific handbags and scarves just for his mother. And the boy would’ve attended all of your dance recitals.

“I write songs,” he spoke rather nervously, as if he were embarrassed to admit his talent.

“Songs?” You couldn’t contain your intrigue. You would have read every lyric he wrote, wanting to understand every thought of his he allowed you to see.

“Sometimes, I also play the guitar.” He was quick to give additional context. “I’m not saying that I’m some great musician. I never even really played my songs in front of anyone apart from my mother and my friends. But it was something that I enjoyed doing before, you know, everything happened.”

“Can I hear one?” You would have listened to him play for hours. You could imagine his face deeply concentrated on strumming the right chords, eyes skimming across the words on the page.

He chuckled nervously. “I don’t have anything prepared just yet. Also, I don’t have a guitar with me.” You hummed in disappointment. “I guess you’ll have to wait for the Interviews.”

“I guess.” Then you both shared a genuine laugh. Quiet but real. You wondered if he also imagined what it would have been like meeting outside of the Games. Did he think you’d be friends? Did he think you would have liked each other? Or would he have not spared a second glance at a District girl like you?

“You know, I always wanted to be famous. Thought it would be for my music. I never expected it would be for something like… this.” His comment sent you both into a somber train of thought. A dark lesson about being careful for what you wish for.

“You still could be.” It was silent a bit after that. You weren’t certain if your little phrase of encouragement fulfilled its purpose or not.

“Seriously,” Wonbin cut through the calm silence, “you should dance, they should get to know that side of you.”

You knew he was coming from a good place, but he just didn’t understand. Too much had changed. “Wonbin, I’m not that girl anymore,” you said with a frown. “I can’t pretend to be her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sweet and… innocent like I used to be. Like you remember. If you knew how I really was, how I am, you wouldn’t have ever talked to me at the Opening Ceremony.” Your breath started to stagger a bit. Truths that you were afraid to share were sitting on the tip of your tongue.

“What are you talking about? Of course you’re still that girl.” He stated without any reservations or doubt. “I can see it in the way you made sure Saena ate lunch on the first day of training, or the way you smile when Saena gets excited about something new she’s learned. You’ve been helping me this whole time, even if I’m nothing but the Capitol’s slaughter offering.”

“I’m nothing but a cold, hard killer,” you whispered harshly, beginning to shake.

“That’s not true,” he countered. The chain of the fence squeaking as he pressed his head up against it, trying to look at you.

“It is! They saw me as a little girl. They saw that I was disciplined and easy to manipulate. They turned me into this. They trained me to have no empathy, to show no mercy. That killing and dying in the name of your District was the only way to honor the people of Panem. It’s all wrong, like me. But I can’t help but still believe that it’s true.” Your voice trembled. This was it. The moment Wonbin would be disgusted and want nothing to do with you.

“Y/N, none of that was your fault. I know you have empathy inside you. I know you’re a good person.” He spoke carefully, trying to be reassuring without upsetting you, but the tears already started to trail down your cheeks.

Your voice broke. “You don’t know that! You can’t possibly know that.” You pulled your legs closer to your chest.

He didn’t stutter or mince his words. “And I know that, when the time comes, you’re not going to kill Saena.” He didn’t say anything about himself, even though you were fairly positive he was wondering the same thing as you: would you be able to kill him?

“I gotta go.” It was barely a whisper, but he was listening intently enough to hear it. Wonbin urged you to stop before you’d taken two steps. Chair scraping the ground as he stood.

“Wait! Y/N wait,” he pleaded. “Don’t go. Not yet.” A few seconds later his hand pushed through the slim gap between the fence and the wall’s edge. A thin chain hung from his fingers, metal reflecting the moonlight. “Take this with you.”

“What is it?” You asked, reaching for the item carefully. In the center of the chain was a simple gold star charm. It truly was a gorgeous trinket and, considering his background, must be authentic.

“It was supposed to be a graduation present from my parents.” Wonbin explained, using the same comforting tone he spoke to Saena with. Normally, you’d reject that kind of unnecessary pity, but with the tear stains on your cheeks still drying off, you didn’t have much of a choice. “My mother gave it to me before I left. She had hoped it would bring me luck in the Games as it was meant to for university. I’ve been holding onto it a lot lately when I’m trying to forget… everything. Maybe it could help you too.”

“It’s beautiful,” your fingers delicately wrapped around the chain. Admiring the star charm, you realized this was probably the most expensive thing you’d ever held in your hand. The best you’d received were tiny stud earrings that were covered in a thin layer of gold. Your father had spent a significant portion of his salary to pay for them, but it wasn’t everyday that your daughter gets hand picked to be a future representative of your District. Although you’ve grown to despise what those earrings represented, you never would have given them away this easily.

Wonbin gave the chain some slack, ready to drop the necklace into your hand. In a sudden rush you grabbed his hand and pushed it back over to his side of the wall. “Wonbin, I can’t take this.” You went to place the charm onto his palm, but he gently turned your wrist up to face the moonlight.

“What happened?” His thumb traced along the tender skin of your wrist. Just that simple touch caused you to whimper in pain. You’d forgotten about the bruise. By wearing gloves during training no one had noticed. There wasn’t any way to hide it now.

“Nothing,” you tried to pull your hand back but he kept a firm grip. “It happened while I was training.” Even you could tell that you were speaking too fast to be believable.

“Training?” He questioned, tilting your arm to see the wound in different angles. You confirmed with a squeaky ‘yes’. “Is this the same kind of training that created those marks on your neck at the Tribute Parade?” You let out a quiet gasp. Your team was certain no one would notice. That the makeup and necklaces would cover the finger marks up. They hadn’t even bothered to ask where they had come from. “That’s the thing about jewelry, it can’t cover all scars.”

He could feel you tremble in his hands. “This training wouldn’t have anything to do with Jeno, would it?” He already knew the answer, you could hear it in his voice. You wondered how long he’d suspected it. If it was that obvious or if Wonbin was just more attentive than the others.

“Yes,” you confessed in a whisper, eyes stinging relentlessly. “It does.” You hated how shaken you sounded. After the disregard of your team, you thought no one would care enough to ask any of this. No one would care what happens to you.

“Is it… only hand-to-hand training or… more?” You felt ashamed to say it. All those fighting skills and years of building up a strong mental and emotional capacity, still you allowed yourself to be abused by one boy and break down in front of another. You weren’t torn apart and rebuilt for this.

“M— M—,” they came out as soft whimpers. “More.” You finally forced the word past your lips. Your body collapsed into the fence, eyes squeezing shut as another round of tears escaped from the corners. This time there was no hiding them.

Wonbin let out a devastating sigh. “Y/N,” he gently tugged on your hand. “Y/N, come here. Come closer.” You allowed him to bring you close to the wall. Your faces separated by less than a foot. He settled the necklace into your hand, making sure all your fingers wrapped around the chain and his hand covered yours. Then with his other he reached for your face, caressing your cheeks with his index finger, wiping away tears.

You froze in your spot, staring into his warm, comforting eyes. A part of you wanted to yank yourself free and run away. To your room or maybe out of the apartment, out of the city. Let the Peacekeepers shoot you dead. The other part wanted to pause time and stay here forever. Just right in his grasp, always in reach. Either way, one thing was for certain: if you had met Wonbin outside of the Games, you would have loved him. Loved him more than you had ever loved anyone or anything. Desperately and hopelessly.

“It’s okay,” he stated definitively, taking away your sorrow. “It’s going to be okay.” And for some inexplicable reason you believed him.

•••

RANKING

You were fine the next morning at the Tribute Center. Wonbin did more than just send a brief smile in your direction when you arrived, he walked over and asked how you were. Saena showed the two of you a few more archery tricks she had learned. You told her that the others better watch out in the arena. A comment that even Wonbin appreciated with a sweet smile.

Shortly after that, Jeno called for you to join him with the other Careers. You’d never seen him so angry. His booming voice echoed throughout the whole training room, yet no one seemed to care enough to acknowledge it. “Look at me when I’m talking to you! You’re either one of us or one of them. If you don’t stop fucking around, I swear, I will slit your chest open and make you watch as we tear apart your boyfriend and his little friend limb for limb.“

“He’s not—“ Jeno slammed you against the weapon rack, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Shut the fuck up!” He yelled in your face. You fell limp in his hold. “Did I say you could speak? You disrespectful cunt!”

“Let her go.” You gasped at the recognizable voice, praying he would just walk away.

The boy holding you by your jaw only chuckled darkly in response. Throwing a challenging glance at Wonbin. The latter tightened his grip around the sharp object. If Jeno held any fear for the knife-wielding boy he certainly didn’t show it. Instead he picked you up by your throat and tossed you onto the floor like you were nothing. You didn’t see what happened next, but the two ended up on the ground. Both reaching for the knife as they threw punches and kicks at the other.

You had managed to stand back up just as Jeno raised the weapon in his hand, ready to bring it down on the other boy. You thought that you had screamed ‘no’ but you weren’t sure. All you remember was trying to run over to the two and being held back by Anton. The younger gestured to the guards, who hit both boys with an electrical charge. They writhed in pain for a few seconds before passing out. Then were dragged away into an another room. “I said, no fighting while training! Save it for the arena.” You didn’t pay attention to the trainer, only to the door that they took Wonbin through.

You tried to forget the incident during your private training session with the Gamemakers. After a few solid swings you realized you didn’t have the strength to show your skills with a sword. You chucked the weapon away, and quickly came up with another plan. Using a sharp rock and a tree branch that you had to climb for from the wilderness station, you made a makeshift axe. With some rope that you tied around the handle, you were able to hit the targets dead center while pulling the weapon back to you each time.

The only thing you could think about while watching the Gamemakers rankings was Wonbin. You hadn’t seen him since that morning. You didn’t even know if he was able to do his private session. Jeno had made it back on time. He walked out of his session very satisfied with himself. Well, he had reason to, seeing as he was given the rank of 11 by the Gamemakers. Then came your rank. A shock even to yourself. 12. The highest rank.

“A perfect rank!” Seulgi clapped excitedly. Yunjin congratulated you. As did the rest of the team, excluding Jeno. He just gave you a somewhat approving nod.

“It appears we have a certain.. battle angel in the arena this year. From Prima Donna ballerina to cold blooded assassin, this girl’s killer instinct doesn’t seem to ever fail her. Let’s take a peek at what went down at the Tribute Center.”

Footage from your private session began to play on the television screen. First, of you hacking at the dummy, then in your frustration you’d managed to chuck the sword right at the dummy’s head. They sped through you making the axe. And showed you throwing it around the room. You’d remembered hitting the targets, but apparently while you were turning around to simulate a battle with more than one opponent you had also hit a tree, a table, and an apple from the Gamemakers’ viewing deck. They were incredulous.

“The Gamemakers on the edge of their seats. Just like we will all be while watching this battle angel in the Games. Now, District 2…”

You waited on the balcony for hours. Softly calling out to Wonbin, but he never responded. He had a rank of 5. He did much of what you had discussed: showed off his speed and agility, survival skills like building a fire and finding shelter. You had told him that if he couldn’t outfight the others, he could out-survive them. He certainly wasn’t in his element but you thought he did fine. Luckily, the commentary made wasn’t on his lack of skills but rather on his looks. Despite a bandaged up eyebrow and a bruised chin, he was still very much the pretty boy from the Capitol.

All that was on your mind was Wonbin. Was he alright? During the night to the morning. Long hours spent coaching you for the next day’s interview with the Games’ host Kim Heechul, the fitting for your gown, and endless strategic planning from Jeno. He was colder towards you and distant, but he hadn’t completely shut you out which a part of you was grateful for.

When Yunjin arrived at the apartment stating that she had to get you ready for a party you had been invited to, you were just about ready to break into the apartment next door and check on Wonbin yourself. The only thing you knew while walking into that giant Capitol penthouse was that the owner personally requested for you to show up and that he was a major potential sponsor. You were meant to be polite, sweet, and although they didn’t explicitly say it, you were also expected to be as friendly as possible. You were serving dessert with yourself on the platter. Yunjin made that the easiest task by dressing you in a short sparkly white dress with delicate angel wings attached to the back.

The middle aged man treated you to foods you’d never tried before, music you’d never listened to, and a million intimate phrases and actions that made your skin crawl in discomfort. He held your hand, caressed your cheek, and whispered things like “my beautiful, powerful angel. I’ll make certain that you arrive back to me safely.” The party was huge with tons of people you didn’t know and they were all desperate to meet you. You hardly got a chance to breathe.

The moment the man leaned in for what you thought was a kiss, you backed away with a bashful smile, politely excusing yourself from the private room to go to the bathroom. But that isn’t where you went.

You almost threw yourself over the railing and off the balcony, clutching onto the metal pole as if your life depended on it. Your breaths came out in gasps. “You too?” You whipped your head to see the boy that had been occupying every corner of your mind.

“Wonbin?” He smiled at you. Not forced or stiff. A genuine smile. He was standing off to the side, a drink in his hand. Ten must have gone all out for this party. A studded denim jacket, black leather pants, a white lace undershirt, with all sorts of rings and accessories. But the craziest thing was his hair: styled, wavy, and, well, blonde. “You’re alright.”

“I am,” he confirmed, slowly walking over to you, “and I’m sorry about last night. I wanted to meet you, I swear, but I wasn’t feeling well. I almost sent Saena out to tell you, but I didn’t know if we were allowed to let anyone in on our secret rendezvous.”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay.” You anxiously bit your lip. For the first time since you walked into the penthouse that night, you actually felt happy to be at the party. “Is it always like this?” You gestured to where the celebration was ongoing. The music still loud and clear from the opposite end of the penthouse.

“More or less,” he stumbled into the railing, holding on with one hand and taking a sip from his glass with the other. “But the company is much better now than it ever was.” You could’ve sworn there was something flirtatious about his demeanor. The playful tone mixed with the hungry eyes that tried not to stare at any part of you for too long. Indubitably this was the doing of whatever liquid was sloshing around in his glass.

“I see,” you didn’t know how to respond. You’d never seen the boy like this. So relaxed and carefree. Was this how he’d been before he was banished to the Districts?

“I found out that Mr. Lee’s daughter is a huge fan of mine.” He was so eager to talk, you couldn’t help but smile up at him. “And I mean a HUGE fan.” He pulled at the collar of his jacket to expose a short trail of lipstick marks down his neck and collarbone. You let out a quiet ‘oh’. “But you don’t have to worry. I told her that she was really sweet but that I needed some space. I mean the girl has some real boundary issues. She wouldn’t take any of my hints. When someone tells you they need space, you should back off, right? Don’t you think so?”

You tried to hold in your laugh to no avail. “I think you’ve had enough of this.” Carefully, you removed the glass from his hand and placed it on one of the outdoor tables. He didn’t protest your actions. Instead he watched you, lost in thought. “What?” You asked once you noticed his stare, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

“Nothing, just.. you look really pretty.” He blushed like he did before the Tribute Parade, all shy once again. Only this time you were equally as flustered. Many people had called you pretty and beautiful, but for some reason it felt different coming from Wonbin. He meant it more than just a compliment, it was a certified fact retrieved from the deep recesses of his unconscious mind.

The two of you stood there, glancing at one another. Wonbin leaning back on the railing by his arms. The wind blowing through his blonde locks. You wished you could take a picture of him with your brain and keep it there forever. You held your arms behind your back. Feet lightly following the steps to the song playing back at the party. It was one of those classic songs from the old Panem, before the war. Your father had taught you the dance and all the words.

“How does the dance for this one go?” Wonbin asked, pushing off from the railing as if he already knew what you were going to say.

“It’s not that complicated. I can show you.” You directed his hand to your waist and his other already found its way into yours. You let out a deep breath, now closer than you’d ever been. You guided his steps, giving simple instructions here and there. Soon he was leading the dance with no hesitation. Like he had committed the steps to memory and now could just look at you as you both made circles around the balcony. “You already know this dance,” you accused teasingly.

He didn’t deny it. “They taught us at school,” he twirled you into his chest. “I guess I just wanted to dance with you,” he admitted, whispering into your ear. A shiver ran down your spine. And he didn’t know how to ask, you thought endearingly. With more than just your cheeks heating up. Your whole body shook in excitement.

The music began to crescendo. The steps getting more complicated as the song progressed. In some ways your body reacted to his movements before your brain could process the next step. Under his arms, two steps forward, another twirl, two steps back, then into the slight dip. Each time you grasped onto his hands the cool metal of his rings graced your skin. For the finale instead of just simply ‘running off’ as was the traditional move, you gave it your own flare: three pirouettes. The boy caught you just the same, spinning you back to your original position. A hand on your waist, yours on his shoulder. With the song coming to a close.

It took a moment for you both to catch your breaths. “See,” he said in between inhales, “you need to dance for them.” You hadn’t felt this way in years. The thrill. The passion. The joy. You had missed it more than you were aware.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly, looking into his eyes. For reminding you of who you were and still are. Underneath the hard exterior you were forced to build was that little girl at the Panem Theatre. Dancing to her heart’s content. Smiling back at the boy who cheered louder than the rest of the crowd.

Wonbin pushed your hair out of your face. “You’re welcome.” His other hand felt warm in yours. And his cheeks were flushed but the smile never fully left his face, it just morphed into something sweeter, more tender. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

“I think we should head back… before people realize we’ve been gone for too long.” He nodded but the tenderness remained even as he slowly, almost regretfully, let you go. You couldn’t take your eyes off one another.

Right at the moment your fingertips were about to slip from his, he wrapped his hand back around your own in a sudden haste. “Y/N.” You hummed in response, eyebrows raised in anticipation. He took a half step closer then pulled your face to his with a gentle hold of your neck and cheek. Lips pressing against yours, commanding at first before sizzling back down to a soft caress. He tasted like champagne and the subtle mint flavor of the sixth dessert that had been offered to you that night.

When your eyes fluttered back open they took in his sheepish yet satisfied expression. “I still think you’re a princess.” Another certified fact of his. There was no running from this feeling any more. No hiding. You tossed an arm over his shoulder, fingers curling into his hair, and enveloped his lips between your own. You both melted into the kiss, allowing it to get more fervent, more desperate, more helpless. Because despite all this emotion, in two days time either one or both of you could very well be dead, or worse, at the end of the other’s weapon. But right now the two of you were tangible and real. All lips, saliva, invasive hands, and soft moans.

Once you started it was difficult to stop, almost painful. So you let it replay on your mind, over and over again, until it was committed to memory. The way he held you close, fingers gripping and releasing the fabric of your dress. The scent of his cologne. The feeling of his tongue pressed against your teeth. The look on his face each time he pulled away, as if he couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream. You stumbled into the bathroom, dazed. Not able to recognize the reflection staring back at you. It reminded you of how your friends from grade school would look after running into their crushes.

On the ride home you kept touching your still swollen lips. Observed your body in the mirror as you took off your dress, half expecting to find your body changed after his touch. You felt prettier and more radiant. You laid awake in your bed imagining what it would be like to have him there next you. No restraints. No curious eyes. No deadlines. No walls. Just Wonbin and you, and nothing in between. You didn’t bother going to find him on the apartment balcony. Even though you wanted nothing but to spend more time with him, you knew the physical separation would be torturous. You let the night carry you from one ‘what if’ to another.

You woke up to Seulgi shaking you awake. “You have to see this.” She dragged you into the living room where on the television clear as day was a video of you and Wonbin at the party in your unapologetic lip lock. Underneath reading ‘THE CAPITOL’S NEW POWER COUPLE’. The embarrassment of having such an intimate moment caught on camera didn’t have a chance to settle before the shock of seeing the destruction done to the apartment took its place. Objects littered the floor, some in pieces. Wall decorations knocked to the ground. Like a giant gust of wind had torn through the room.

“What hap—“

“Jeno.” Yunjin stated plainly, arms crossed. Disappointment evident on her face.

You were dead in more ways than one. “Seulgi, I’m so sorry. I know I should have stayed with the sponsor—“

The woman hushed you, waving her arms around in a frantic manner. “Let me think.”

“What is there to think about?” Yunjin cut in. “She needs to commit to this whole romance angle.” The designer was angry alright. You had never seen her so much as frown in front of you, and now she looked just about to punch someone in the face. Perhaps you.

“Yunjin’s right. We can use this to our advantage.” Seulgi began pacing the room as she was prone to do, picking at her hair while doing so. “You’re more desirable now. If the Capitol’s new ‘it’ boy wants you, then everyone does. Maybe you got so enamored by his Capitol-boy charms, and in combination with your… complicated emotions surrounding the Games, you found yourself temporarily caught in his romantic web. And now you’re going to leave everything to the arena.”

Your brows furrowed together. Seulgi’s narratives were often a bit convoluted but they usually painted you as someone who is strong, independent, and proud. This one practically makes you out as a victim, with Wonbin as the perpetrator. You couldn’t let them do that to him. Not after the previous night.

“I thought you were friends Kai.” Yunjin spoke to the other woman. “Why would he do this to you? To us? I mean, sending his tribute to seduce ours just to gain favor with the public is such a dirty move. We don’t know how this will affect the sponsors.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. “What?” The two women barely acknowledged your presence, continuing their conversation as if you weren’t there. What they were implying was ridiculous. Wasn’t it?

“Well, this is the price to pay for having the Capitol’s favorite as your tribute. But I must say that debuting a new look with a scandal like this was genius. Half of the coverage is just about his new hair color.” Seulgi responded. “We can handle this. She’s still expected to make it to the final two. Many experts are predicting her taking it all home. We just need to perfect this narrative before tonight’s interview.”

You had been so focused on training and your new allies that you hadn’t been watching any of the coverage. Were you really predicted to win it all? If you were the Capitol’s favorite, it would make sense why other tributes would want to get closer to you. But last night, Wonbin couldn’t have known there would be cameras. He was drunk. Unless he was told before. But how could he have known you would go onto the balcony? Did he assume that you would be there because of your late night rendezvous? Were those even real or just a means to get close to you?

The more your brain spiraled out of control, the more every single interaction you made with the boy seemed to unravel. The truth was that you didn’t know him, not really. After all, it had only been five days since you first met him. What you did know was that he was from the Capitol. He wasn’t District like you. He had never known pain and suffering, not like this. These were new concepts for him. Children of the Capitol were never taught how to deal with these things. Only how to improve their situation in spite of others. And it wasn’t like his father was beyond playing games to teach his son how to do the same.

You didn’t want to believe it. However, if you had learned anything from your years of Games training, it was that you couldn’t trust anyone. Especially the second you entered that arena. The writing was on the wall: Park Wonbin had been playing his own game. One that would improve his situation in spite of everyone else, including you.

•••

INTERVIEWS

It wasn’t like you were given much time to worry about it. The whole day was spent preparing for the Interviews. Memorizing lines, going from one salon to another, getting dragged here and there, meeting too many people to count. It was exhausting, physically and mentally. Your mind was all muddled by the time Wonbin pulled you off to the side backstage at the City Circle. One hour before the live broadcast of the Interviews began. You couldn’t pay attention to his now pink hair or all-black outfit of leather pants and oversized fur coat.

He was happy, so happy to see you. Smiling brighter than ever. Lips looking softer than ever. There was nothing you wanted to do more than forget all your doubts and collapse into his embrace. Press your mouth against his and let his tongue silence all of the concerned thoughts you wanted to voice.

His hands initially went for your waist but decided against it, holding your own instead. “Wow. You look… wow.” In his typical shy yet playful manner he spun you around to fully take in the stunning gown Yunjin had designed. A fitted bodice with puff tulle skirt that went to your mid thigh, a ballerina silhouette, with strings of clear gems hanging down from the sides. Attached underneath was a light mesh floor-length skirt, covered in the same gems. “You’d fit right in with the Capitol models.”

You didn’t thank him. Not that he particularly noticed, too busy staring down at your interlocked hands. “I’ve been thinking a lot about last night.” He confessed bashfully, eyes peering up at you through his pink fringe. You gave a shaky ‘me too’ in response. “I don’t know about you but for me last night was perfect. I’ve never felt like this before.” His thumb rubbed your knuckles gently. He was shaking despite acting calm. You would have melted at his direct yet sweet words, but you had no way of knowing if they were the honest truth. Everything he said or did had an uncertain taint to it now.

“When I woke up this morning, the first thing I thought about was you. About seeing you again. It wasn’t a want, it was a need. I needed to see you. I needed to have you near me. Because… I need you.” Wonbin paused for a second to comprehend what he was saying, as if he hadn’t planned this whole speech out beforehand. “I need you.” He looked directly into your eyes. They seemed sincere. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” Tears started to fill your eyes. You couldn’t let him go on any further. You needed to know the truth.

You mumbled his name. “I had an idea and you’re going to think I’m crazy.” He shook his head, that dazed smile remaining. “Everyone will.” You called his name again. “But I can’t stop this feeling. And I don’t want to stop it. I need you and I always will.” He gently squeezed your hands.

“Wonbin,” the first tear slipped past the corner of your eye.

“I think we should get married.”

“Did you know about the cameras last… what?”

The hoarseness of your voice along with the couple of tears — he must have thought that you were overwhelmed by the proposal. His hands left yours. One rested on your face, wiping the tears from your cheek. The other reached into one of his pockets. The shiny piece of metal between his fingers caught your eye. Particularly, the large gem on top. A ring. A diamond ring.

“I know it’s sudden, but we might never get another chance at something like this.” He was being serious. “I don’t want to enter that arena tomorrow with regrets. I want to show them, the other tributes, the Districts, the Capitol, everyone that we’re a team, a duo, a force to be reckoned with.” Even his laugh sounded anxious. He stated your full name. “Marry me. We’ll get through all of this together. And who knows? Maybe the people will love us so much that they’ll have to let us both live.”

So that was what all this was about? Strategy. You took a sharp intake of air and pulled away. His hopeful, tender expression faltered. “Is that what Kai thinks? Is that his plan?”

Wonbin physically reeled at your question. Bewildered at your mention of the other man. “Kai?” He questioned. “My mentor? What does he have to do with any of this?” The ring suddenly felt heavy between his fingers.

“You tell me. Seeing as you’re just as concerned about what the audience thinks as our mentors are.” You spoke erratically, as if you had too much to say but with little capacity. “I thought that we didn’t care about their stupid show.”

He shook his head. “I do when it has to do with whether we live or die.” The boy spoke like what he was saying should be obvious. “Y/N these people are the ones who decide that. Not the President, not the Gamemakers, the people. If they like a character enough, they won’t want them to die. They won’t let them.”

“So you make the character likable?” Wonbin nodded in confirmation. “Similar to what you did when you kissed me last night?” He was silent for a moment, taking in your accusation. Partly in disbelief.

“I kissed you because I couldn’t hold back how felt anymore.” He stared into the gem on top of the ring. Eyes briefly peering into yours. “I told you: I’ve never felt like this before. There wasn’t any way I could have let you leave that balcony last night without letting you know how I felt. That kiss,” he paused, recalling the blissfully anxious moment, “it was the best thing I could come up with at the time. It had nothing to do with them. I don’t even know how that would have been possible. I didn’t know anyone else was there.”

“And there just so happened to be people with cameras?” Clearly he was growing tired of your questions, but he did his best to hide his frustration.

“It was a party, Y/N. With two of the most popular tributes.” He gestured to you both. “They were probably following us all night. Until we gave them something to write about. I’m sorry we got caught. I shouldn’t have been so careless. I know that you got some backlash for being with me. And I need you to know that I wouldn’t have ever put you in that situation if I had known that would happen.” The backlash was the least of your worries. None of them would be in the arena with you tomorrow. “Let’s forget about last night,” he reached for your hands again, “and focus on how we feel right now. I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

Your hands buried themselves in the tulle of your dress. Refusing to make eye contact with him. “It would really benefit you, wouldn’t it? Being teamed up with the top ranking tribute.” You watched as his hand clenched and unclenched around the ring. “I keep you alive long enough to make it until the end. Maybe let someone else finish me off and then you take them out when they’re weak, winning the whole thing. It’s not a terrible plan.”

He didn’t take the time to correct anything you said. Didn’t say that he wasn’t interested in you because of your ranking or that the ‘plan’ was pure insanity. He only said in a deadpan: “you don’t trust me.” It was an acknowledgment of failure. That he had lost something that he wasn’t certain he could ever get back. Maybe he never even truly had it in the first place.

“You can’t trust anyone in the Games. It’s the number one rule.” The statement sounded as if it were a soldier relaying orders from a commander. Something that you said but didn’t feel in your heart.

“No,” he stated firmly. “No.” His hands grabbed your face and turned it in his direction. You went to push them away, but he shook your head harshly in response. “No, look at me. Look at me!” Wide eyes met his sharp ones, not soft. He’d never raised his voice towards you or anyone. This was a new side of him. One brought on by a need for survival. Oddly enough, you briefly wondered if he had shown this side of him, would his ranking have been higher at the private session.

“Look at me. Don’t do this. Not again. Don’t shut everyone out. You’re above that.” You couldn’t tell if your heart was hurting from pounding so much or if it was his over-the-top undying faith in you. “You’re not one of them,” his eyes traced over your features. “If they want to make fake alliances that will get them killed, let them. They rather go it alone than actually feel something for anyone else in that arena.” Gradually his voice got softer, going back to that comforting tone. “You’re not alone. You have me,” his thumb caressed your cheek. “Please, trust me.”

You carefully wrapped a hand around his wrist. The cool metal of the bracelet he was wearing brushed against your skin. A shaky breath escaped your lips. He was waiting for you. “I… I wish I could.” You whispered. “Everything is going to change tomorrow. When the countdown ends, the only thing you’ll have in that arena is yourself.”

He was about to respond when another voice called out for you. Low, gruff, and impatient. You turned your head towards the other person. Jeno. He mumbled out something about meeting with Seulgi and the other mentors, but he was distracted by the boy in front of you. His hands still lightly holding your face. You knew that if looks could kill, Wonbin would be six feet under and then some.

Wonbin brought your attention back over to himself, hands slightly tightening their hold. He hadn’t even bothered sparing the other boy a glance. His focus solely on you. In a half step, he drew himself closer to your body. “Don’t go with him.” He stated plainly. “Stay with me.” You couldn’t tell if it was a command or a plea. Either way, you knew that this conversation had to come to a close before things got ugly.

You jerked away from the boy who relinquished his hold on you. “You’re telling me what to do now?” Even as the words left your mouth, you knew they weren’t true. Wonbin wasn’t like that, or at least, you thought he wasn’t.

“No,” he groaned in frustration, watching you slip away. “I’m trying to protect you.” His pleading eyes weren’t enough.

“I don’t need your protection,” you took a couple steps back. “And judging by the commentary about last night, you don’t really need me either.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to him, so you just walked away. Jeno raised his brows tauntingly at the other boy. A satisfied smirk decorating his face as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you away.

“Lovers’ quarrel?” He asked, amused. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll take care of him for you tomorrow.” Suddenly, you felt like throwing up.

You pulled yourself together as best as you could. Yunjin touched up your makeup as Seulgi spat out the same tips she had been sharing for two days straight. Being the female tribute from District 1 meant that you were the first interviewee. You did everything they told you to do. Walk out confidently without rushing, sweet smile on your face, waving your hand like you would wave at an old teacher of yours, warm and respectful. Sit up straight but not too stiff. You need to appear relaxed. And above all, keep every single mannerism elegant and demure.

“Ah, there she is. Our battle angel!” The crowd roared in applause. The man embraced you in a short lived hug.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Heechul. We’ve been watching so much of the Games coverage that I’ve started hearing your voice in my dreams.” The audience laughed along with the host. You kept your hands folded on your lap, giving the people a pleased yet bashful smile before turning your attention back on the man.

“Only sweet dreams, I hope,” Heechul joked back, another round of boisterous laughter followed. “I believe we should start with the hot topic on everyone’s mind today. We heard that there was a little soirée held in your honor last night.” He stared at you with a sly expression. The crowd letting out a knowing ‘oooh’.

You took a deep breath. This is what you prepared for. 8 hours of emergency meetings dedicated to this. “Yes, there was. However, if that was only a ‘little soirée’, I can’t imagine what an extravaganza would be like.” You didn’t forget to smile at the audience or the camera. Both equally as important.

“Very true!” The host exclaimed. “No one throws a party like the Capitol, isn’t that right?” He had this plastic charisma that the people ate up like a gourmet banquet. The crowd was in the palm of his hand. “I’m sure that we have all seen the video of you and the boy from 11, ‘it boy’ Park Wonbin. That was quite a moment you two shared.” The screen behind the stage projected the clip once again, the audience cheering in excitement. The footage stilled on one frame. Wonbin’s hand caressing your face, yours pressed against his chest. He was staring down at you like you were his whole world. “What happened to get you there?”

“Nothing happened really,” you replied calmly, sticking with the coy tone. “I guess you could say that we got too carried away with the festivities.”

“Yes, we can see that.” Heechul chuckled, footage of your kiss playing in the background again.

“I wandered out onto the balcony for some fresh air. Evidently, he had the same idea.” You explained. Keeping it ‘sweet and simple’ as Seulgi said. “There was nothing planned, it just… happened.”

The host widened his eyes, turning to the crowd. “A spontaneous act of romance you say?” The people laughed at this and you felt your eyebrow tick slightly in annoyance. “Come on now, Y/N. You don’t seriously expect us to believe that this… connection of yours flourished from a couple drinks and a city skyline. There must have been something else leading up to this.”

You shrugged your shoulders, smiling nervously like a kid that got caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. “What can I say? This city’s beauty transforms you at night. And I doubt that I am the first one to ever get swept up by a Capitol man’s charms.” The audience cheered, agreeing with your sentiment.

“Ah,” Heechul leaned back, considering your words. “So Park Wonbin, our ‘it boy’, is a charmer, you would say?”

“Well, Mr. Kim, I am only the opinion of one.” It was daring enough to leave an impact. Enough to receive a comment from Seulgi later.

“‘Mr. Kim’?” He questioned. “Uh oh. It appears I have found myself in some treacherous waters here. We love to see it!” It seemed fitting that the top ranking tribute would have some bite to her. “Ms. L/N,” he played along dramatically, “I am asking on behalf of the people who want to know. How did the boy from 11 capture the heart of our battle angel? Is he as swoon-worthy as many have claimed?”

“That,” you emphasized the word with a subtle nod, “you will find out for yourselves in a little bit. Words don’t do justice for what the eyes can see.”

“Now that is quite true.” The host sat back up, adjusting the reference cards in his hand. “Very well then. I have one last point to discuss before we go on to a special talent that you have decided to share with us, is that right?” You nodded your head. A smile for the audience, another for the camera. “After all of this, what can we expect for tomorrow? Will Park Wonbin be an ally or a foe?” He was asking without actually asking. Would a kiss be enough to keep you from killing the boy? If only they knew the whole truth. They would recognize that it is a lot more complicated than just sparing the boy you once kissed at a party.

“I guess we will see tomorrow, won’t we?”

The dance portion of the interview didn’t go as well as expected. The underskirt had been fairly easy to remove, and the ballet slippers attached to heels was a stroke of genius. You were still rather rusty, but the execution of the dance came across as elegant. In the end, you were glad that you had decided to take Wonbin’s advice. He was trying to conceal his elated expression, though it shone in his eyes. He thought about saying something as you walked by. Instead, he gave you a complimentary nod.

The evening went on as planned. Jeno left after his interview to train some more, not that you complained. There wasn’t much reason for you to stay apart from one thing. And he kept glancing over at you the entire time. The yearning in his eyes palpable.

Upon her turn, Saena started to hyperventilate backstage, refusing to present herself in front of the audience. By the time you were able to get over to her, Wonbin had already squatted beside her and was attempting to calm the girl down. Hands rested firmly on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I can’t go with you. But I’ll be right here when it’s over. You can do this. Just be yourself. They’re going to love you, I promise.” It was enough to encourage the girl, who hesitantly climbed onto the stage on her own. You backed off, thinking that had been it. It hadn’t.

Her interview went fine, but the second she stepped off the stage the relief washed over into a fit of uncontrollable sorrow. Her face was buried in Wonbin’s chest, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Sobs muffled by his fur coat. It wasn’t that disimilar from the image you had in mind when the boy first approached you earlier that night. In a lot of ways you were just like Saena, feeling the same emotions. The only difference being that you were trained to not let them show.

“No!” The scream took you out of your thoughts. It came from the girl. Peacekeepers just about to physically remove her from Wonbin’s arms. The latter having to go on stage for his interview. “Don’t leave me alone!” Tears streamed down her face.

“I have to go. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She still refused to let go. Then to the Peacekeepers he gave a stern: “I’m going, just give me a second.” One of the officers lifted his baton ready to strike. You ran over before he could, pushing the end of the stick away.

The second you touched the girl she panicked, jerking away. “Saena, it’s me. It’s Y/N.” She looked over at you with glossy eyes, red nose, and tear stained cheeks. Her grip around Wonbin loosened. You pulled her into your grasp, embracing her as Wonbin just had. He was staring at you, a little shocked, a little relieved. He was questioning you in his head. “I’ve got her,” you stated, “go.” The boy nodded unconsciously and made his way onto the stage. Meanwhile you found a quiet place to sit down with Saena.

From then on you heard bits and pieces of Wonbin’s interview, interspersed by Saena’s steadying breaths Unsurprisingly, a lot of the questions made were similar to the ones asked to you.

“It’s good to be back.” You heard his voice coming from both the screen hanging on the wall showing the broadcast, and from the stage itself. “The Capitol will always be my home. But I am honored to represent District 11 in this year’s Games. I hope that Saena and I can make everyone proud.” Everything sounded so slow, so calculated, compared to the Wonbin you had come to know. It was clear he had taken the interview preparation seriously.

After a handful of simple topics, like the new hair color, Heechul finally got to the issue of the party. It was time to hear the narrative that they had prepared. You almost didn’t want to listen. Instead you focused on Saena as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

“Can I be honest with you, Heechul?” The man responded with an over-the-top ‘of course’. “When I stepped out onto that balcony, I had no idea that all of this would follow after. I was glad that another tribute was there. We talked a bit about the party, danced, and then one thing led to another. Next morning I find out that I’m in a relationship with the girl from District 1.” The audience chuckled a little at his incredulity, but they continued to hang on to his every word. “I hate to ruin a good story, but we really just got caught up in the moment. There isn’t much more to it than that.”

The host pondered on his words for a second. “Earlier tonight she seemed to imply that your ‘Capitol boy’ charms are what drew her close to you. Would you agree with that assessment?” You could imagine the blush on his face, that shy expression of his.

“I don’t know about that. That’s not how I necessarily see myself. Perhaps she was being nice in her portrayal of my character.”

“Could be. And what is it exactly that drew you to her?”

“Well, as you all know, she is a very beautiful girl. But she is also smart and delightful to be around. I’m sure any man would have felt the same in her presence.”

“Hm. I would say you’re both rather cunning. Wouldn’t you say so?” The question was directed at the crowd, who responded with different variations of ‘yes’. “You mean to tell me that you have no special feelings for this girl right here? I’m not sure that ‘any man’ would look at her like that.” The people let out a resounding ‘ooooh’. “How do you truly feel about our battle angel?”

“How do I feel?” Wonbin mumbled, the microphone barely catching what he said. A long drawn out silence came after that. In reality it must have been a few seconds, but it felt long enough to get your attention. You looked over at the screen to see a zoomed-in shot of Wonbin staring at the same still image from the footage of you two in your late night embrace. Focusing on it more now, you could see how you had been looking up at him with the same adoration in your eyes. The picture suddenly seemed too intimate to be broadcasted like this. You weren’t even certain if you’d want Wonbin to see this image, much less the entirety of Panem. You looked sweet and innocent and everything else he thought of you as.

“I feel ashamed,” he was still mumbling. Heechul repeated the word in confusion. “Yes.” His head turned back to face the host, eyes darting from the crowd to the camera. “I’m ashamed because my father always told me to fight for what I believed in.” Saena quickly informed you that he was explicitly instructed to not mention his father. Even she was on the edge of her seat, anxiously waiting to hear what the boy had to say. “I believe in her. I believe in us.”

“‘Us’? As in you and…”

“I think I’m in love with L/N Y/N.” You audibly gasped along with the rest of the audience. Your breath staggered. It couldn’t be true. It had only been a few days. How could so much change in such a short time?

“Wow, that is quite the confession young man,” Heechul attempted to regain control of the interview. “And an unexpected one at that.”

“I’m sorry.” Wonbin went to scratch the back of his neck. He didn’t look embarrassed. Maybe a little flustered. “I can’t pretend when it comes to her. The truth is that she’s actually very special to me. And what I feel for her… I can’t put into words.” He took a deep breath. “She is still that girl who performed in the Capitol all those years ago, graceful and gentle and powerful. My heart pounds whenever I’m near her.” His expression lightened when something came to mind. “And when she smiles at you, genuinely smiles, you just want to give her the world.”

“You must really care for her.” The host stated, eying the other. The boy confirmed with a confident ‘I do’. “What happens tomorrow then? Will you also leave everything to the arena?”

A flicker of acknowledgment crossed Wonbin’s face. Acknowledgment of what was to come. Then with all the certainty in the world he responded. “We will both do what’s best for ourselves.” He paused, distinguishing this point from the following. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing that any harm that comes to her is my doing. No matter the outcome, I will be satisfied with the fact that I found true love. I was once told that there were fates worse than death. To live and never love… that would be the real tragedy.”

Saena carefully grabbed onto your arm. You hadn’t even realized that you were shaking until then. It felt like a massive earthquake was running through your body. Walls that you had built up for years crumbling, yet the overall structure remained in tact. He said he would give you the world. In a way he already had by helping you regain a sense of humanity you’d lost long ago. What did you have to give him other than the remnants of the girl he once knew?

“Actually, this song is for mother, back in District 11.” Your eyes flickered back to the screen. Wonbin now holding an acoustic guitar. “Since my father used to work, I would watch the Games with her every year. I hope that this serves as an apology for not being able to watch them with her this year.” He looked directly into the camera, eyes glossy with the beginnings of tears. “Eomma, I love you and I miss you so much. Forgive me if I don’t come home.”

He started strumming the strings, a beautiful melody wrapped in a sweet-sounding voice. It was his. Sharp and clear and filled with emotion. Compared to the voices in your head, it sounded like an angels’ choir.

“He didn’t get to say goodbye,” Saena spoke quietly. You turned to see her somber face. A bit of fear in her eyes. “They wouldn’t let him see his mother. He doesn’t even know if she’s still alive.” All those conversations you had with him, and he had always seemed to evade the topic of his parents. You never pushed considering that his familial situation was precarious at best. In return, you didn’t speak of your family either. Any stories about the past cautiously omitted them, like his stories did. The girl scooted closer, whispering: “after the Reaping, before they took us away, Peacekeepers brought his father on stage and shot him in the head.” You felt as if you had been punched in the gut.

It must have happened after the cameras turned off. How awful for his mother to witness the death of her husband and her child being sent off to die at the same time. How awful for Wonbin to have to move on from something like that. The more you thought about it the more terrible you felt. He had been taken there against his will with no family, no connections, disgraced and laid out to die as punishment for a sin he didn’t commit. He found solace in you, in whatever this bond you have. Maybe he wanted to marry you to fill the gap that was made back in District 11. Your brain zipped through another ‘what if’ of the same grief-stricken Wonbin falling at your doorstep in District 1. Introducing him to your parents, marrying him, having kids of your own. Giving him a new family to count on and love.

“I’d never seen someone die like that before,” Saena continued, voice fading into a worried squeak. “I don’t think I can do it again. Because that’s what’s going to happen tomorrow, right? We’re all going to die? They’re going to kill us?” She had fresh tears in her eyes as she stared up at you like a frightened child.

You didn’t want to lie to her. “They will try, but we can stop them. We can get to them first.”

“Are you going to try to kill me?” Even in her face you could see how she didn’t want to believe it. That someone like you, the closest thing to a friend she has, would murder her in cold blood. The image of her dying in your arms appeared in your head again. You shook your head fervently.

“No, no, of course not!” You whisper yelled, reaching for her hand. “We’re in this together. You, me, and Wonbin. We’ll figure this out.” You tried to muster the most confident expression you could. Perhaps if you said it firmly enough you’d start to believe it.

“Are you in love with him too?” She asked, a sudden lightness in her tone and expression that you much preferred to the existential dread. That’s why you decided to humor her and respond.

“What makes you say that?”

She smiled briefly. “Because you get all soft whenever he talks or someone mentions him.” A genuine giggle left her lips when you gently pushed at her shoulder. A scoff escaping your mouth.

“I do not!”

Saena was about to respond when you heard some kind of commotion coming from the audience. The first electrifying notes were played from a guitar. An electric guitar. Your eyes flicked back to the screen. Wonbin. Fur coat removed, sweat dripping from his face. That concentrated expression you had imagined. The tune was rough compared to the previous soft melody and his voice was piercing as he sang.

“Shout, loud, cry, tears

Fear, pain, but keep going

All I did it for

My love, not fame”

You were mesmerized, caught in a trance. Different lyrics sticking in your mind.

“We gon' run and chase, make it everyday

Together, we can make it happen, you know that I need you

On the way, run for you

How are you now that you see me?

I still want it, where you at?

Still can't see, shout far away to find you

Shout loud for your name

Ain't 'bout the fame, nah”

The crowd was silent for a couple seconds after he finished. Followed by a roar of applause unlike anything previously seen during the Games Interviews. People screaming, crying begging for more. Wonbin ignored it all, giving the crowd a bow before grabbing his coat and walking off stage. He disappeared from the screen, leaving behind a shocked Heechul. “Park Wonbin, everybody! Our very own rock star!” The boy rounded the corner, passing back the guitar while his eyes scanned the room. They landed on you with a certain determination.

His footsteps were light, practically jogging over to you. The sweat glistened on his exposed arms, causing his black tank top to stick to his chest. Hair stuck to his forehead. He was panting for air the second he plopped down next to you. You didn’t even get enough time to fully take in his presence before he grabbed your face and crashed his lips onto yours. Your hands reached for the fabric of his shirt. The kiss was frantic and adrenaline-filled, but you took it as passion. He didn’t pull away until he physically ran out of breath. Even then he still gave you another peck. After, you shared the same rush he had, breaths intermingling. His warm eyes traced over your face.

“Did you mean it?” You weren’t sure if you were asking about something specific he had said or the whole thing. You needed to remove all doubt. Because if you were going to let yourself fall into the deep end, you needed to know that there was something there to catch you. Wonbin didn’t say anything, just wrapped his hand around yours and placed it over his heart. The organ nearly pounding out of his chest. It kept thumping steadily even after the excitement of the last few minutes slowly wore off. Finally, you threw yourself into his arms. He caught you. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his neck. You didn’t specify what exactly you were sorry for but he seemed to understand what you meant.

You were sorry for everything. For not trusting him. For rejecting him. For his father. For his mother. For being sent here with you. For not having the courage to tell him that you felt the same. Despite it all, he held you like you were the most precious thing in his life. Something he couldn’t live without. And the structure you’d been holding up all this time, the last of the walls you had built, collapsed into nothing but rubble and dust.

“Saena, are you alright?” He asked over your shoulder. The girl confirmed that she was before excusing herself, muttering something about going to find Ten. Even with your back turned you knew it was an excuse. You didn’t have it in you to be embarrassed. Fingers pressed against the bare skin of his wide shoulders. Breaths evening out. Feeling the steady beats of his heart against your chest, you were so close. The first tear fell onto his neck and dripped down to his collarbone. He caressed the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair. “Not here,” he whispered. “Not now.”

A voice called your name but it sounded distant and wobbly, like you were under water. Maybe it was Yunjin, or maybe it was Seulgi. It could’ve been Jeno for all you cared. You weren’t going to move from that spot for anything or anyone. Instead you pressed yourself closer and wrapped your arms tighter around him. Wonbin hummed, hands slipping down to your waist. “You should go,” he mumbled. Lips moving against your shoulder. You shook your head. He spoke your name softly. “It’s okay. We’ll see each other again. I promise.” He had a habit of making promises of things he couldn’t be certain of, but you still ended up believing him.

You pulled away to look into his eyes. They stared at you fondly. Beyond that they held no semblance of doubt. At the very least he believed in what he was saying. You licked your lips, nibbling on the bottom one out of nerves. “When?”

“Tonight. On the balcony.”

“At what time?” Your fingertips danced along the straps of his shirt.

“As soon as possible. I’ll be there.”

Pushing back a lock of his pink hair, you admired him one last time, desperately needing that mental camera. You wondered why you couldn’t just stay here forever. The voice calling your name once again reminded you of the reason why you couldn’t. His hands gently dragged across the bodice of your dress. You leaned in and kissed him, once on the lips and another on the cheek. “Don’t be late.”

•••

NIGHT BEFORE

Apart from a slightly brisk breeze, the night was perfect. A clear sky with many stars visible from your apartment balcony. You longed for Wonbin the second you broke away from his embrace. The journey back was unbearable, costume and make up removal torturous. The minute the team left you made a bee line for the balcony. Every time you yawned, tempted to have your last ever night’s rest in a bed, you kept reminding yourself of why you were there. Repeating his name over and over until it felt like you were casting a spell. You held it together for as long as you could, but the longer you waited alone, the more your thoughts consumed you. All your concerns manifested into sharp tears and uncontrollable sobs. The cries of a scared little girl. Pathetic and disgusting.

The sound of the sliding door opening startled you. “Wonbin,” you spoke in your hoarse voice, running to the small gap between balconies. You pushed your hand through, anxiously seeking his own.

“Y/N?” His voice alone was enough to ease the windy sandstorm inside your head. You felt his hand envelop yours. The other running along your arm soothingly. “What’s wrong?” You muttered out a quick ‘nothing’ which he immediately dismissed. “No, it’s not. You’re crying. Come here.” He tugged you closer, trying to wipe your tears and hold your face. You leaned into his touch.

“It’s just,” you took a deep breath and shut your eyes in an attempt to regain your composure. The tears still stung. Face trembling under his fingers. “I’ve spent my whole life preparing for this. Every day training for these stupid fucking Games.” Your voice was a raspy shake. Wonbin could hardly understand, though he desperately tried. Eyes searching your countenance for clues. “But I didn’t have anything else then. There was nothing else for me.” You wrapped your fingers around his wrist as if it would ground you. “I’m supposed to die tomorrow.” He shook his head slowly. “I’m supposed to kill as many tributes as possible, and die a valiant death. I’m going to die tomorrow.”

Wonbin’s voice cut you off sharply. “You’re not going to die tomorrow.” Then in a softer tone: “I won’t let that happen.” He brushed your cheek reassuringly.

“If I don’t, then what’s left?” You asked. He had no clue how to respond. Your face scrunched up in distress. “Everything’s changed. Now I have you and Saena. Even if we survive, there’s three of us. Only one can win. Which of us is going to make the impossible decision? It’s not going to be you, and it’s certainly not going to be Saena.” Everything turned into a blur as the tears welled up in your eyes. “It has to be me. I have to finish the game. I can’t go back if I don’t. So I have to die tomorrow.”

He pressed his face against the gap, not able to push his head through. With a hand caressing the back of your neck, he brought you closer. Close enough to feel your heavy breaths and the heat of your tears. But he couldn’t really touch you. Couldn’t hold you. “You don’t ‘have to’ anything.” Your fingers reached for the fabric of his shirt. “I meant what I said. I believe in you, I believe in us. We’ll figure something out.” You had spoken the same words to Saena just a couple hours earlier, but you couldn’t quite believe in them now. Belief didn’t seem like enough to challenge reality.

“Wonbin, we can’t win.” You cried, admitting defeat. He looked at you pitifully. Like you were some kind of broken doll in his hands that he wasn’t sure how to fix. It almost made you sick. He wanted to help you, ease your pain, but there was nothing he could do. Your ending was inevitable. No amount of affection and encouragement would ever change it. “We can’t be together.” Tears glistened on your eyelashes and he found it so heartbreakingly beautiful.

Something flickered in his eyes. Sadness that switched to anger and frustration. A sudden banging sound came from the other side of the wall. His shoulder. “No, that’s not true.” He pulled his hands away from you. “There has to be another way.” He pushed, pulled and yanked on the wall and cross linked fence, as if they would give way to a path to you. When they didn’t, he reacted in an unfiltered rage. “God fucking dammit!” You went to touch his face or arm or anything to get him to calm down. Before you could, he landed a hard smack on the fence and the rusted metal clasps at the bottom broke off, allowing for it to be slightly pushed open.

For a few seconds you both stared at the metal, lost in thought. Breaking out of his startled daze, Wonbin shook the fence a bit. Face all too serious and analytical. “Stand back,” was all he said in a quiet command. He hopped onto the old railing, using the wall as support. You told him to get down, that he would hurt himself or get you both caught. He didn’t listen. Determined beyond reason. Instead he pounded his fist on the top metal clasps, trying to widen the gap. You could only watch him with concerned eyes and tear stains running down your cheeks.

He managed to squeeze his arm and leg through to your side, the metal of the fence squealing under the pressure. A sound that wasn’t that loud but seemed to ring like an alarm in your ears. The space between the railing and the ceiling was too small. He had to duck down in order to fit, making it more difficult to get through. The fence just needed to be a little more pushed back. He used the force of his entire body to press against it. A low groan in pain and exertion escaped him as his shoulder made it through, then his torso, then his hips. A couple more clasps broke, nearly ripping open the fence entirely. His body flung backwards and with a sudden gasp you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him towards you before he could fall. He collapsed in your embrace.

“Are you fucking crazy? You could’ve killed yourself!” Your sharp whisper pierced through the night. A hand going to smack his chest as he regained his footing. He was breathing heavily but under that sound was a soft ring. Just a hint of laughter. Maybe he is crazy, you thought. His hands went from your shoulders, used to steady himself, to your waist, pulling you as close as possible. The frustration was gone from his eyes, replaced with untethered affection and relief. He pressed his forehead against yours.

“We will always be together.”

Wonbin was calm, collected, and certain. A stark contrast to his demeanor from a minute or so earlier. His nose brushed yours carefully. Heart still pounding underneath your palm. You were left wondering how two opposing statements could both be true. You could never truly be together. Would never get the opportunity to see where this connection could go. If it’s strong enough to last a lifetime. But at the same time, you knew, you felt, that it would never fully disappear. A part of you will always hold on to the other. A part of them will stay with you forever. Gone but never lost.

He kissed the thoughts away, gentle yet firm. Grounding you in the moment. Lips softer than anything you’d ever touched. It was mind numbing. His hand held the side of your neck, thumb pushing your face up by your chin. “Don’t worry about the Games,” he said in a low whisper, breath warm against your skin. “That’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight there is only us. Okay?” You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he peppered your face with soft pecks. Lips trailing down your jaw and eventually he cradled your neck to lay your head on his shoulder.

There you stood for a while. In his arms, fingers curled tightly around the fabric of his shirt as if he would slip away if you didn’t. He pressed his cheek against the top of your head. Humming peacefully to a tune only he knew while swaying your bodies slowly, like a subtle dance that no one was meant to see. The scent of something uniquely him, something you were growing familiar with, made you forget what you were even crying about. It felt like time had stopped briefly. The universe blessing you for a moment.

You never knew you could love someone in this way. Hopelessly. Deeply. Desperately. When the only thing you want or need is them, and them alone. You understood now Wonbin’s need for you. How he was able to set his soul in your hands. Gamble it all on you. Then again, he had nothing else to lose. You were all he had. And the more you thought about it, he was all you had too. Years of trying to find purpose in your training. First dancing, then the Games. Years of internalizing glory as purpose. A glorious win. A glorious death. For such a long time that you started to believe in it. After a few days with Wonbin, you knew how false it all truly was.

Your purpose was to care. Care for others. For Wonbin, for Saena. To help them and support them as they do for you. Your purpose was to love them and trust them. Never let them feel less than or unwanted. Never let them lose hope. Your purpose was to cry and laugh and smile. Grow old and learn what it means to live a happy life. Your purpose was Wonbin. This boy you hardly knew but felt connected to as if he were a lifelong friend. A soulmate made to save you from the dark and lonely path you were treading on, just as you were made to do for him. You saved each other. Despite whatever ending the universe gives the two of you, that will always be true.

Wonbin stumbled a bit. He looked to the ground where you had set up a make shift bed. “I didn’t want to sleep alone,” you explained when he gave you a questioning look.

You laid for hours on that pile of pillows and blankets. Talking about anything and everything that wasn’t the events set to take place the next day. About your childhoods, funny things and sad things. About a hypothetical future together where you would spend summers in the Capitol and winters back home in District 1. What kind of house you’d live in. What music you would play at your wedding. How many children you’d have. “As many as it takes to get a daughter,” he half-joked, running a hand along your arm. “I’ve always wanted a daughter.” He didn’t have much of an argument as to why but seeing as you didn’t have a preference, you agreed nonetheless.

“The people really liked your song tonight.” You shifted closer to him. Leg thrown over his, arm wrapped across his torso. He was laid down on his back. One hand messing with your hair and shoulders, the other on your knee, occasionally tracing shapes on your skin. You never felt more comfortable or at peace. “They love you.”

He shook his head and you watched as his blonde locks fell into his eyes. His hair was already washed clean of that pinkish hue. “They don’t really love me,” he countered without any humor. “They love the show I gave them.” Something in his tone sounded bitter. Arguably he had been the most successful tribute of the night. Between the awe-inspiring performance and dramatic love confession, Panem had chosen their golden boy. How could they not love him? You did. But how they felt didn’t seem to matter to him. Not anymore.

You hummed in question, twisting around onto your stomach so that you could properly look at the boy. “Isn’t that what you wanted? To be famous for your music.” He tilted his chin to match your gaze. Fingers brushing through your hair.

“They were only willing to listen because they already see me as six feet under. The first and final performance of a dead man.” It was quiet for a minute or so, as you both pondered on his words. “It’s all fake,” Wonbin continued, “their love, their concern, their interest. They don’t care about us, not as real people. That kind of fame… it’s fake. I don’t need it. I didn’t play my songs for them.” He emphasized the last word as if the idea was ridiculous.

Turning your head to rest it back on his chest, you agreed with his sentiment. “Yeah, you played it for your mother. It was sweet.”

“You know, only one of the songs was for my mother. The first one,” he clarified. “The second one… was for you.” This shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did. But after spending the last couple hours with the lyrics replaying over and over in your head, you were finally seeing them in a clearer light.

In a sudden movement, you lifted yourself up and crawled to hover over him. His hands followed you gently. One sticking to the back of your knee, the other pushing your hair away from your face. “You wrote a song about me?” You questioned playfully. It was too dark to tell if he was blushing or not, but you could see his bashful smile. Eyes reflecting the city lights and timid stars. “And you played it in front of the entire country?”

He let out a low uneasy chuckle. “I also said that I was in love you.”

“You said that you thought you were in love with me,” you corrected with a grin.

“I was trying not to be too strong with it.”

“Oh, you were very subtle.” At your sarcastic comment, Wonbin tickled your side as he brought your lips to his with a hand on the back of your neck. You giggled into the kiss, squirming in his arms while you tried to get him to stop. Once he did, he let you pull away. His hand felt warm on your bare lower back where it had somehow slipped under your shirt.

The two of you took deep breaths, coming down from the excitement. He held your face carefully. Expression softening. “My love is all yours, Y/N. If you want it.” Chills ran down your spine. The affectionate gaze, the delicate touch, the candid voice. “I just want to spend the rest of my life with you. Whether it’s 80 years or 12 hours.” You didn’t realize you were crying until the first drop landed on his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, wiping at your tears. Here he was giving you his whole heart and all you could do was cry like a baby. “I never cry in front of other people, and now I feel like I’m always crying in front of you.”

“You don’t have to apologize for having emotions.” He held your hand, stopping you from swiping underneath your eyes. His index finger replace your own. “As long as I’m never the cause of your tears, I will always be here to dry them.” You chuckled softly in disbelief. How did you manage to end up with someone like him? Soft and caring.

“I love you, Park Wonbin.” You confessed in a shaky whisper. “I love you beyond reason.”

He tilted his head up, lips brushing your jaw. “That’s the best kind of love.”

There wasn’t a logical explanation as to why you loved him so much. Why you melted under his touch, and felt like you were floating every time his lips moved against yours. It just felt natural. To press your body to his. To run your fingers through his hair. To sigh at the way his hands danced across the back of your thighs. To moan as he kissed along the sensitive skin of your neck. To slip your hand under his shirt and caress his toned chest. To grind your hips against his and feel a sudden pressure between your legs.

“Wait,” Wonbin broke apart from the kiss, flustered and dazed. “Are you sure?” He stared into your eyes, searching for any hesitation or doubt. “I don’t want to push you or hurt you.” You could understand his concern. It wasn’t like you had had the best experiences with intimacy lately. However, even with your limited experience, you knew this was how it was supposed to feel. Nerve wracking and exciting. Like the anticipation of reaching the end of a countdown. You wanted this, more than anything. And looking into his eyes, fingers wrapped tightly around the waistband of your pajama pants, he wanted it too.

“I want to know what it’s like to be loved in that way. But I only want it if it’s with you.”

Your sincerity rang true to him. Biting his lip a little anxiously, he nodded his head. “Okay,” he conceded, a small smile appearing on his face, eyes shimmering. “But,” he squeezed your hand, “if you want to stop, at any moment, we’ll stop. And if you’re uncomfortable, we’ll figure something out. Try something different. And—“ You placed your fingers over his lips, effectively silencing his ramble of concerns. He watched wide-eyed as you slowly sat up, straddling him. One small tug of his arms and he was sitting upright. Eyes staring into yours until you pressed your forehead to his. “Tell me what to do,” he breathed out.

“Kiss me.” His lips pressed against yours softly, more delicate than before. He was nervous. Hands shaking on your waist, heart pounding under yours. Deep kisses that were hesitant and grew more confident as time went on. Your heavy breaths and quiet moans spurred him on. Fingers tugging at his hair. And when you reached for the hem of his shirt, he immediately helped pull it off. Smooth, toned skin tingling under your fingertips. He shivered while your nails traced down his torso.

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

Wonbin accepted your request, gracing your ribcage with a gentle touch. Kisses making their way down your neck to your collarbone. He let his hands wander over your warm skin until it wasn’t enough. Your pajama top quickly joined his on the ground next to you. He pulled away, almost as if he needed a moment to take in your beauty. Moonlight embracing the silhouette of your form. Every curve and line. You looked like an actual angel. A hand went up to your face, tracing your jaw and the column of your neck. Caressing your collarbone and the peak of your breasts. Dedicating a short time to observe how you react to the tender way he rubbed over the sensitive nub with his thumb. Your lips parting, letting out short gasps of pleasure.

He worked further down to the waistband of your pants. Staring at you like you were a piece of art that he couldn’t believe he was allowed to look at, much less touch. A stare heated with desire, clouded with admiration. He pushed under the fabric and pressed his fingers against your heat. At this, you groaned, jerking forward and clutching onto his shoulders. Something about your expression made him switch.

In one swift motion he flipped you over, laying your body onto the blankets and settling in between your legs. Lips attaching to yours in a desperate haste. A messy entanglement of tongues and teeth clashing together. Gold chain pooling around your collarbone. All the while he let his hand dip lower over your core. He was just getting accommodated, spreading you open and gliding a finger through your slick. The pad of his thumb grazed your clit, causing you to moan loudly into his mouth. He did it again, setting the bundle of nerves ablaze. Your fingers tugged at his hair. “There?” Voice dipped in a sultry honey glaze, a little deeper and syllables more slurred together than normal. “Angel, is that where you want me?”

It took you a couple seconds to figure out what ‘angel’ he was referring to. The term of endearment rolled over you like a warm blanket. You’d never felt so comfortable being this vulnerable with someone. Vulnerability was never an option for you. And now that it was, now that you had someone you could be vulnerable with, you don’t know if you could ever go back. Wonbin was your person. The one you could trust and rely on. The one that you could give yourself to and know that you would end up alright on the other side.

When he hesitantly circled his fingertip around your entrance, it occurred to you that this was his first time. His uncertainty came from a lack of experience. You wanted to take all his inhibitions and worries away. Tell him that there was nothing he could possibly do to hurt you. That just feeling his warm, soft skin on yours was enough to send you into a blissful frenzy. He was mumbling something about wanting to put his finger inside, however he was too polite to say it so explicitly and too concerned about pleasing you.

You silenced him with a kiss. Chaste in comparison to the previous ones that caused saliva to drip down the corners of your mouths. “Bin, Baby,” you held his face, “I’ve fantasized about this. About being in this exact position with you.” He audibly gulped at your confession. Heat rushing down his body to where he was straining in his pajama pants. “About surrendering myself to your touch.” You pulled him closer to whisper in his ear. “Have you fantasized about this, about me?” He was reluctant but eventually nodded, burying his embarrassment in your neck. “Baby, I need you to reenact all those fantasies right now with me, please.” You were starting to get impatient, your body aching for his.

Wonbin was brought back to the night before. Still drunk, laying in bed, and all he could think about was how sweet your mouth tasted. And the intoxicating scent of your perfume. And the feeling of your smooth skin under his fingertips. And the melodic sound of your quiet moans. And that ridiculous angel dress that hugged your body in all the right ways. Next thing he knew he was furiously fisting himself at the thought of all the things he would do to that gorgeous body of yours. Even as he released in his hand he envisioned you collapsing onto his chest, out of breath and all the way spent.

He unfortunately removed his hand from your core to push himself up, staring down at you. “All of them?” He asked, taking hold of your hand. You brushed your fingers through his hair and confirmed your desires. A look of determination crossed his countenance.

He pressed his lips to your wrist, right where your bruise was. Feather-light so it wouldn’t hurt. Then to your neck, running kisses along the finger marks that still persisted. He went to every bruise, cut, and scar on your body, showing each of them the same diligence and affection. You shuddered after each one, a tingling sensation being left behind. Almost as if he were dousing the different parts with ice water. All your body heat pooling at your core.

You softly gasped once his lips reached the peak of your breast. He placed an open-mouthed kiss over the dark circle of skin, tongue darting across the now hardened nub. The metal of his necklace cool against your warm body. You wrapped the hair at his nape around your fingertips, damp with sweat, as you gave him soothing scratches that made him hum on top of your already tingling skin. Legs wrapped around his torso, an arm around his shoulders. You were practically cocooning him with your body. His tongue began working faster, kisses getting sloppier. Accidentally grazing his teeth along your nipple, a whimper escaped your mouth.

He pulled away for a second, watching as a small string of saliva connected his lips to your skin. His hand moved up your side so that he could wipe the mess all over your breast. Wonbin then moved to the other side, providing similar attention to the previous one just with more fervor. It was only when he got a solid breathy moan out of you, causing you to cover your mouth, that he looked up into your eyes. The image of him in the dark, bare back reflecting the moonlight, tip of his nose rubbing against the swell of your breast, mouth wrapped around your nipple, tongue darting out, and dark eyes staring up at you half inquisitive, half amused, was enough to make you combust.

His lips pulled into a sly smile, clearly reveling in his ability to have this effect on you. He laid several kisses up your chest to your neck. Then he briefly removed your hand just to give you another kiss on the lips. A little different from the others. It wasn’t sudden like your first kiss, or hungry like the ones at the party. It wasn’t rushed like the one after his interview, or mind-numbing like the one he gave you after risking his life just to get to your side of the balcony. It wasn’t joy-filled between fits of laughter, or punctuating the end of a love confession. It was soft and sensual, eliciting a whimper of his name from the back of your throat. He pulled away slowly, letting the fluttery feeling linger.

Warm and steady, his hands tugged on your bottoms. The fabric pushing past your hips, down your thighs and onto the floor. Now completely bare and displayed in front of him, you realized you didn’t have any of those anxious thoughts that used to plague your mind when thinking about situations like this. You were younger and more naive then. Most of your concerns were about how you were going to be perceived by the other. Would they like your body? Would they feel satisfied with it? Would they ridicule aspects that didn’t meet their standards? That was all missing as Wonbin stared down at you from his kneeling position. All you felt was his adoration.

He was on his stomach in no time. Wide shoulders pushing your legs apart as he wedged his body in between them. Wet kisses trailed from your knees to your inner thighs, alternating from one leg to the other until he reached your core. Experimentally, he used two fingers to spread you open. “So beautiful, my Angel,” he mumbled, almost too soft to hear. Pushing the tip of his finger inside just to take it out, he watched your arousal begin to spill, a quiet gasp leaving his lips. Something about it was so mesmerizing to him. Especially the long drawn-out moan you had to cover with the inside of your elbow. You only had to suppress your sounds even more as he pressed his face to your heat, taking a quick swipe with his tongue.

His mouth learned how to devour you. Coating you with his saliva before lapping up every drop of your essence. And when that wasn’t enough he pushed his tongue past your entrance, allowing the wet muscle to explore inside you. Hands running along your thighs, he held you still. Something that was necessary since your body started to thrash around from the pleasure. With your hips bucking up every few seconds. His nose bumped your clit and you let out a sob-like whine. Fingers curling in his hair.

Lips surrounding the bundle of nerves, he kept applying pressure with his tongue, circling around and over it until your legs were shaking, chest heaving, sweat dripping, and you were mumbling nonsense past your skin. “Bin, Baby, please, please,” they came out as cries. He responded by introducing a finger into the mix, your body welcoming the intrusion with a solid squeeze. One that had him moaning against your heat and pushing in a second digit after testing out the first. His fingers slipped easily in and out with your arousal.

Unsatisfied with your muffled sounds, Wonbin brought his free hand to your chin. Fingers sneaking underneath your arm to expose your mouth. All the little moans, whines, and whimpers escaping your lips softly. For a second his tongue detached from your core. “I need… to hear you, Angel,” he breathed out in heavy pants, fighting for air. His digits curling against your walls. You were close. He could feel it in the way your legs clamped around him and the unrelenting shudder as his hand carefully wrapped around your throat. The vibrations of every sound you made at his fingertips. “Let go for me, Angel,” he mumbled into your clit, attaching his lips once again. “Let it all go.”

You came hard. All over his hand and chin. Enough to make him gasp again, slightly louder this time. Your grip on his hair must have been painful but he didn’t complain. Instead he kept thrusting his fingers, allowing each wave of pleasure to crash over you until you became too overstimulated. Then as the string of curse words mixed in with differing versions of his name kept slipping from your mouth, he brought his to your entrance and lapped up every last drop of your release. “Fuck, Baby. So good.” You could feel him smile at your praise in between licks.

By the time your vision came to he had crawled over you, brushing hair out of your face as he stared at you with hooded eyes. The whole bottom half of his face glistening. Not that you minded, pulling him in for a deep kiss. It was sloppy. Tongues brushing against each other. You groaned at the taste of yourself. Hands caressing his shoulders and upper back muscles. Something about having the weight of his body on you felt so grounding, so safe. You could make out with Wonbin until the end of time, but your body begged for more. Reaching down, you ran your fingers along the wet patch on his pants. His entire figure trembled at your simple touch. “Are you sure?” He whispered, attempting to keep himself from squirming as you moved past his waistband and wrapped your fingers around him, giving him a couple tantalizing strokes.

“More than anything,” you confirmed with an unwavering gaze. “I need you.” The words hung in the air for a couple seconds. Wonbin already told you he needed you. Now hearing that same statement from you… it felt perfect. He nodded his head, latching his lips back onto yours while he started to kick off his bottoms. You knew in that moment that you could ask anything of him and he would do it.

The first push inside, the initial stretch was euphoric. If a first kiss was a spark this was the entire electric grid exploding all at once. Still slick from your previous release he was able to slide in easily. His jaw fell open in a low groan that you had to muffle with your hand. The other was trapped in his tight grip. You could see it in his eyes, blown wide and slightly watery, that this feeling would be something he would dream about for the rest of his life. Same as you. Already so sensitive from before, everything from the friction to the fullness and the heat of his skin pressed against yours made you feel like you were floating.

He bottomed out and buried his face into your neck. A moaning mess before he’d even started moving. Fingers running along your side. For a minute or so it seemed as if you would stay like this forever. Wonbin settled inside you as your walls pulsated around him. Both of you not wanting to rush the other. It was only when his hips began to rut into you that you told him he could move. Slow at first, he picked up speed to find a pace that best suited the two of you. You could tell that he wanted the whole thing to last for a long time. Because of that you made sure to refrain from squeezing him too much. Though you weren’t the best at controlling it seeing as he felt like the closest thing to Heaven.

You didn’t know that sex could feel like this. Loving and secure. He wasn’t just thrusting inside you. He was caressing you, holding you, showering you with wet, affectionate kisses that distracted him from how lost he was in your arms, eyes, and body. He was gentle and demanding of your pleasure and heart. He was overwhelming with his eye-fluttering scent, mind-numbing kisses, toe-curling touch, and soft moans that melted into unconscious calls of your name. He was making love to you, in every sense of the phrase. And you knew this second approaching orgasm wouldn’t just be a release, it would be a complete surrender to his love. To a life that would always have him in it no matter what happens.

His hand ran down your abdomen, partially to keep you in place as you started to buck your hips up to match his pace but also to rub his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves, aiding your second climax that was readily approaching. He groaned loudly into your mouth. Fingers pressing harder against your skin. “Angel.” You were too far gone to respond. Instead he grabbed a hold of your hand and brought it down to where he had his on your abdomen. You didn’t understand at first until you felt it. The bulge that pushed up underneath your skin, matching his every thrust. “It’s us.” Maybe it was his sweet voice or acknowledging the feeling of your physical connection at the same time. Your climax hit you so hard you nearly passed out. The only thing that pushed past your daze was the hot contents of his release coating your walls.

“I love you,” was the first thing that left your mouth after Wonbin collapsed in your arms. Neither of you anxious for him to pull out. The combination of your juices left you both warm and fuzzy. All exhaustion burning out into a blissful simmer.

He pressed his lips to your cheek, bringing them to the shell of your ear. “I love you, too.” He sighed as you ran your fingers through his hair for the nth time that night. And for a moment it truly felt like you were the only people in existence. “You were supposed to be on top,” he confessed bashfully.

You let out a soft, reassuring chuckle. “We still got time.” At this, Wonbin flipped to his side and brought you close, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as if the life you were building together wasn’t a fantasy and that the day would never come.

•••

MORNING OF

Sometime between the quiet conversations and intimate moments, you fell asleep. Rather peacefully until you went to snuggle closer to your lover only to find him missing. A shuffling sound coming to your ears, you peered over at his figure digging through the pile of blankets. “What’s going on?” You asked drowsily, sitting up to see if you could help. Wonbin glanced at you with an unreadable expression. You bit your lip as you blatantly checked him out. He was still shirtless, hair a mess, lips slightly swollen. Those same lips pulling into a smirk as he looked you over.

A light laughter erupted from both of you as you drew him closer by his arm. His hands went to your waist while yours ran across the muscles leading up to his shoulders. Faces merely inches apart. “I’m going to need that shirt back,” he playfully tugged at the hem of the top you were wearing, his shirt. You’d forgotten that you had put it on earlier. It was so warm and comfortable, and it smelled like him. He brushed his nose against yours, garnering your attention.

You leaned in closer until your lips brushed against his. “Then take it,” you challenged. He chuckled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. You brought him in for a charged kiss. Fingers running through the tangled strands of his hair. He lifted the shirt’s hem and pulled it up and over your head leaving you bare. You hurriedly climbed onto his lap. The kiss getting more heated as you wrapped your arms around him, his hands dancing along your back. He left open mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. As delicate as they were possessive, especially when he reached your breasts.

You were ready for him to lie you back down and take you once again. Down another path of pleasure that left you breathless and dazed. But he didn’t. Instead you felt confused as he gave you a simple peck before he covered you with a piece of fabric. He pulled it down, allowing your head to fit through the collar. It was your shirt, your actual shirt. All you could do was hold still while he helped you dress. His hand caressing your cheek afterward. “My pretty little Angel,” he cooed softly, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You stared at him blankly while he carefully slid you off of him and put his own shirt back on. The fabric covering all the markings — love bites and faint scratch marks — you had made on his chest and back, making it seem as if they had never existed. He went to stand up and in an act of desperation you held him down by his leg, running your hand along the inside of his thigh. “What’s the hurry?” You mustered up the lightest tone you could. Even though the heavy sense of dread was dragging you down. “Don’t tell me that you’re not up for another round.” You had been intimate enough that night to know the tell tale signs of his arousal. Muscles tensing up, face flushing, the veins on his trembling hands becoming more prominent.

Wonbin stopped you from unbuttoning his pants, holding your wrists tightly between his hands. His face twisted into an expression you hadn’t seen before on him. Darker than frustration. “Don’t.” He was stern. Any amusement that had been there was long gone. “The Sun’s rising,” he explained simply. You glanced over at the city. Sure enough the horizon was just a little bit brighter than the rest. The sky slowly turning a lighter shade of blue with each passing minute. Your time was running up but you refused to accept it.

You scrambled after him as he sat on the balcony chair, putting his socks back on. Despite being dejected, you still tried to keep the atmosphere light. “But we still have some time,” you went up behind him, hands on his shoulders. Trying to be affectionate, you wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on top of his. “We can watch the sunrise together and listen to the birds.” He didn’t respond with words. Just grabbed a hold of your forearms and placed sweet kisses on both your palms. And then he stood up, walking over to the railing. Your breaths started to get shallow, hands shaking and nose wrinkling. “Or,” your voice wavered, eyes fogging up, “we could talk about what would come after the cutting of the cake. We didn’t decide on how we’ll say goodbye to everyone at the reception. It’s an important part of any wedding because—“

“Enough!” His voice cracked. You knew it wasn’t that loud but he still startled you, your already trembling body flinching.

Tears streamed down your cheeks. Voice a shaky mumble. “Because goodbyes are the hardest part.” He briefly turned towards you, nose red with tears in his eyes. That expression you had seen once before. Scared yet defiant. It was the same expression he had when his name had been called at the Reaping. Now mixed with anguish. Anguish for your short-lived love affair coming to a brutal end. Something that could have been great. You couldn’t believe that first viewing of him had only been a few days earlier. It felt like a lifetime ago. “Wonbin?”

He shook his head, turning away. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said in disgust. Your resolves only held strong for a few more seconds. After which he pivoted back towards you, the two of you looking at each other in a silent, longing frenzy, and then ran into each other’s arms. He pulled you in as close as possible, covering you in frantic kisses. “I love you. I love you so much. I love you more than anything in this world. I love you. I love you.” He spoke the words like a chant, like an incantation, like there was no way he could say it enough. The mixture of your tears tasted salty as your lips worked at a feverish pace. His hands desperately sliding from your thighs to your back, grabbing everything in their path. Into your hair and around your neck to your face. And then he collapsed to his knees, face pressed against your stomach as he outright sobbed.

You held him like that, rubbing his back and shoulders and caressing the back of his head. You held him like that for what felt like hours. Hopelessly wanting to remove all his pain but you didn’t even know how to do that for yourself. So you resigned yourself to comforting him the best you could. After a couple minutes he calmed down. Only a few sniffles here and there served as proof that he’d been crying. You helped him stand back up and when he tried to look away in embarrassment, you gently brought his face back to you. Wiping at his tears and placing loving kisses on his jaw and cheeks. In return, he rubbed soothing circles on your exposed hip.

“Just don’t stop being the strong girl that I know you are.” He spoke softly, drawing you even closer to him. “You’ll make it to the end.”

“Is this the end?” You pondered aloud. “Are we out of time?” You pulled away to look up at him. His nose scrunched up, eyebrows pressing together.

“Does it feel like the end?” He countered. The dread in you wanted to say ‘yes’. Your heart naively said ‘no’. But deep in your gut you felt as if the real answer was ‘I don’t know’. Which seemed impossibly worse. Uncertainties in life were as scary as they were intriguing. “I don’t think we would be questioning it if it was.” He opined. Then he added definitively: “When it’s time we’ll know.” Perhaps that was true. The only thing that could separate you now was death. Only in death would you part. That moment wasn’t this one.

“Okay,” you nodded in agreement. He caressed your cheek for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“I should go,” Wonbin said reluctantly, pulling away. You followed him like a frightened puppy to the barrier wall between the two balconies. A somber look in your eyes. Suddenly, he turned to face you. “I’ll find you,” he let out in a rush. “In the arena, after the countdown, I’ll come find you. We’ll get through this together.”

You vehemently disagreed, shaking your head. “No, listen,” you grabbed his hands. “After the countdown you run as far away as you can from the cornucopia. Jeno’s going to go after the weakest first and those are the ones that stay in the center. Take Saena if you can and run until you can’t hear the other tributes.”

“I’m not leaving you with him,” he stated firmly. Staring at you as if you were requesting the most outrageous thing possible.

“You can’t protect me if you’re dead.”

“If you die, there will be nothing for me to protect.”

“You’ll have Saena.”

“You know what I mean.”

The tension simmered with indignant stares. You were the first one to break the silence. “I’ll be fine.” His eyes told you that he didn’t believe you. You couldn’t blame him. Jeno and the other Careers hadn’t been the most trustworthy. But you understood the way they think. As long as you were of use to them they’d let you live. And as long as you were alive you could keep Wonbin and Saena safe and off their radar. You brought your interlocked hands to your chest. “I need to do this. If I go with you, Jeno won’t stop until we’re dead. Please,” an unwavering serious expression on your face as you gazed into his eyes. “Promise me that you’ll go without me, and take care of Saena.”

He was conflicted. On the verge of arguing, but he couldn’t while looking into your pleading eyes. He let out a sharp sigh. His hands held yours a little tighter. “I promise,” he stated sincerely. You brought him in for a hug and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. “I need you to promise me something as well.” You whispered a reassuring ‘anything’ to him. He pulled away, reaching for the back of his neck. The gold necklace fell into his grasp. “I want you to take this,” he said, handing the piece of jewelry over to you.

You furrowed your brows. “Bin, I already told you—“

“Just hold onto it for me.” He dropped the chain into your palm and closed your fingers around it. “If something happens to me, I need you to give this back to my mother.” If something happens to him? You couldn’t think like that. You wouldn’t. You won’t. Wonbin was going to be fine, and you’ll be fine with him being fine. In fact, there was no point in talking about him being fine because, of course, he was going to be fine. Everything will be fine. He called your name. “Angel?” You hummed in response. “They can’t have this, you understand? They can take a lot of things but they can’t take this. It’s ours now.”

You stared down at the thin gold-linked chain, fingers fiddling with the star charm at the center. It truly was a beautiful trinket. More beautiful than the first time you had held it in your hands. Back then it was just a simple piece of jewelry. Now it felt so much more. It was your comfort and relief. A representation of your combined love and hope. A memory of a past that was long gone, but never forgotten. And the dream of a bright future together that would never come. You would guard it with your life.

“And if something happens to me?” You questioned. The boy physically flinching at the thought. Unconsciously shaking his head. Face scrunched up like it pained him to even ponder that outcome.

He let out a deep calming breath. “Then you’ll give it back to me, but I want you to keep it safe for now. Until we find each other again.” It wasn’t an outright promise, however it was still wishful thinking. You nodded along as if it were a set plan. A date at some nice place where you had a table reservation.

With a rather timid expression — much too timid for how close you already were — you lifted up the chain necklace. “Will you help me put it on?” Something close to a smile appeared on his face. You handed him the piece of jewelry and turned around. He pushed your hair to the side, fingertips brushing your neck.

The task was finished quickly and, yet, he still lingered. Breath fanning your skin. His hands slid down to your sides, lifting up your shirt delicately. A trail of warm kisses leading from your shoulder to just under your ear caused your eyes to flutter shut. “Even if once is more than enough,” his fingers traced along the waistband of your panties, his voice a low drawl in your ear, “I would have you every second of every day if I could.” He landed a few more kisses on your neck before spinning you around by your waist. “For now, just let me look at you ‘til I have everything memorized.”

The two of you stood there staring at each other for a lot longer than you should have, but when something feels like the last time, you don’t rush. A few more drawn-out kisses and warm embraces later, Wonbin finally climbed back onto the railing and, with your help, he pushed back through to his side. Even then, neither of you wanted to let go, hands interlocked and faces pressed against the small gap. The first rays of sunlight peaked over the horizon. “I will never stop loving you. ‘Til my last dying breath, I will fight for you.” His words fell heavy on your sinking heart. You were so distraught about your future that even breathing felt like a struggle.

However, as your fingers finally slipped from his, the last ‘I love you’s hanging in the air, you knew that breathing was all either of you could do. It was how you would fight this great injustice life gave you. A tragedy in the making. You’d keep breathing until you couldn’t. Every moment that you do was another spent believing in this love affair, fighting for it. Letting it be known that Park Wonbin and L/N Y/N existed and were unapologetically in love, against all odds.

You knew it wouldn’t be that easy. That once you walked through that sliding glass door, you’d be leaving behind everything that just happened. The easy part, falling in love. Every single kiss, touch, confession of love, whispered thought, and loving gaze would stay behind, locked in a memory that wouldn’t exist apart from inside your mind. Past that door was only strategy, horror, and death. None of which you felt ready for, despite all your years of training.

With a shaky hand, you clutched onto the star charm of Wonbin’s necklace. Eyes closed. Your lungs filled with air and slowly was exhaled out. Unprepared and emotionally comprised, you slid open the door and stepped inside, praying that you and the boy you loved would live to see another sunrise.