Twig’s Home, District Seven (@dawnhardn)
It always feels like a balm, to have Dawn in his home. It’s been a long time, since the days when his parents used to come over, used to bring whatever charges were in their care at the time, little feet running around his home and filling it up in ways he never managed on his own. But they’re gone, now, and he doesn’t get many visitors these days.
The furniture is all his own making, the way he keeps himself busy between Games. The broken glass on the floor, however, is Blythe’s.
He hardly sees it, though. He feels shocked, too shaky to be quite numb. He wishes Dawn’s presence could be a balm, now, but he’s not sure if anything could. “You have to be safe,” he tells her, not sure which of them he’s trying to convince. “They could never reap someone from the Capitol.” But then, he knows, the Capitol’s already treated Dawn like a traitor once before.
