sweetheart.

Run, baby, run; don't ever look back. They'll tear us apart, if you give them the chance. ~We The Kings, Check Yes Juliet


The president gives him a cold, unforgiving smile as he places the gold crown—he thinks it's actually pretty ugly—upon his head. He knows why, of course. But that doesn't mean he has to care.

He's past the Hunger Games, and now he feels pretty much invincible. Again. (He's far from it.)

"Congratulations," Snow announces with another artificial smile. "Looking forward to home?" He wants to gag at the thick scent of blood that wafts right into his face. But he gives a grin back, and says yes, of course he is. (He'll regret it, two weeks later.)

And then he's finally back in District 12, to an unfamiliar, too-large house in Victor's Village that isn't really home. He misses the coal dust.

His mother hugs him for what feels like the first time in forever; his little brother, Luc, running through the carpeted hallways and chattering excitedly. After the dinners and cameras and everything, she stands in the doorway, staring distastefully at pretty much everything.

"Juliet." His voice cracks, and she cracks a smile. He drags her to him then, because he has no more words than that. She doesn't say a single word either as he kisses her and cries, with must be the whole goddamn ocean—(he's never seen it, but he's heard it's big)—leaking from his eyes.

Later, he impulsively buys a fresh loaf of bread for the first time in his life, white and soft. He only needs one slice, but it's not like he'll need the money.

"Want some toast, sweetheart?" he offers. Sincerely. He sort of expects her to say something rational, like, we're sixteen. (Or just flat out no.) But she doesn't.

He never thought he would taste salty-sweet butter on this toast.