#robyn001

Twig has been avoiding Robyn. ​

He received the invitation for Harbor’s so-called wake, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He stayed in District Seven; he pretended it wasn’t happening. He knows, he knows, that it’s a decision he’ll have to answer for eventually. But he’s been cowardly enough to try and put it off for as long as he can—it’s easy to be busy in the Capitol, and so it hasn’t caught up to him yet.

In a way, no matter how morbid it is, he got lucky. While people who were in the know knew, he and Harbor kept their relationship on the quieter side—it was nice, Twig thought, for two people so used to the spotlight, to everything about them being for public consumption, to have something that was just theirs. Now, it means that Twig has a chance to survive this. To not let himself be tarred by whatever Harbor did or said that was a step too far for the Capitol to abide.

And, unlike everyone else, he actually got to say his goodbyes to Harbor, no matter how inadequate they feel now. Even if he didn’t know, then, exactly how final they’d be.

But, of course, luck can only be on his side for so long. It’s the morning he’s supposed to board the train back to District Seven, and here Robyn is, impossible for Twig to duck and avoid. “Robyn,” he says. And then, because he can’t exactly say such a pleasure to see you again: “It’s been awhile.”