AN: Hello everyone! I hope this week sees you all happy and healthy. Thank you to everyone who alerted/favorited/reviewed. I appreciate your support bunches! To those of you who caught all the grammar/spelling mistakes in the last chapter- I apologize. I hurried to get the part out and didn't proof read as closely as I normally try to. It's a pathetic excuse but it's all I've got for you. Hopefully this chapter will be more up to standard!
Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins and I do not own The Hunger Games.
Part 25- Can't Go Back Now
"We need to get you up and moving around again." Juni says as she pulls off the old bandages one afternoon a week later. "These burns are about healed up enough that you won't have to wear bandages anymore."
I look down at the red and pink scar tissue that has grown over the worst areas of the burns, "I can't walk around outside the house. People will see me."
"I know that, which is why Rowan is going to take you to his house in the Victor's Village tonight. You can walk around behind his house and in the woods surrounding the village. No one will notice you there." She explains looking at the burn on my jaw.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I ask nervously. I don't admit to myself that I'm just nervous to leave this room for the first time after arriving back in the District.
"It will be fine, child. You worry too much." She chuckles.
"It's just, there are other Victors there and-"
"They hardly pay attention to anything these days let alone what their neighbors are doing." She cuts in with a sad smile.
"Not Johanna." I argue. "She's still sharper than a whip."
Juni brushes this off, "If Johanna finds out you're here, Rowan will take care of it. She's not one to gossip anyway."
"Now get dressed." She says standing and taking away the bandages, "We're going to move when the sun is down."
I put on a pair of soft old pants from before my days in the Capitol and a worn tee shirt. Even though the sun has begun to set, the heat of the hot July day clings to the air. It's hotter than an oven outside but Juni twists my hair up underneath an old cap.
"You're hair would be the one thing that would give you away." She explains, "It's almost impossible to identify you from a distance if your hair is covered.
By the time Rowan shows up, I'm sweating buckets and more than ready to bolt out of the house in hopes for some sort of breeze.
"Ready then?" He asks simply. He's tense though; I can see how tight the muscles in his shoulders are. It makes me nervous just watching him. Does he really think this is going to be a difficult trip?
"Yeah." I reply, sounding much more assured than I am, and follow him out the door after thanking Juni for all her help. As we approach the square, I can see there are still a few people milling around probably avoiding the heat inside their houses after a long, hot day of work.
"Just keep your head down and stay a few paces behind me. If anyone talks to me, you keep walking toward the Victor's Village. I'll catch up with you there." Rowan says under his breath. I nod and drop behind him. No one stops to talk to him however a few people wave greetings or stare at him as he walks by. I follow him from a distance, only stepping up next to him once we've reached his porch in the Victor's Village.
"That wasn't so bad now was it?" He asks me, as if he were any less worried about the journey, his eyes crinkling at the edges even though he tries not to smile.
"Sure." I agree, "Can we just get in before anyone sees me?"
He nods and turns the knob to the door that he doesn't bother locking. We step inside and he immediately snatches his hat off my head, allowing my hair to fall down around my shoulders freely.
"Don't need this anymore." He states, hanging it on a hook by the door. I don't argue, enjoying the fresh air that can now reach my scalp, cooling me off significantly. He steps in front of me and leads me through the house briefly before walking me up the stairs to the bedrooms.
I don't know what I expected Rowan's house to be like. Perhaps something like Milo's apartment, very modern and fashioned in the Capitol's style since the Capitol built it. Maybe I even thought it would be rundown and dirty since he's always drunk. But I never would have pictured what I am looking at now.
It's a big house with wide, open rooms. The living room has a large stone fireplace with big, comfy-looking furniture surrounding it. Over in the far corner is a television that appears as though it doesn't get much use. The kitchen is spacious and done in dark red colored wood, maybe cherry but I can't tell for sure.
Upstairs are four bedrooms and a bathroom, with a shower and hot water of course. He guides me, carrying my single bag of possessions, to the room at the end of the hall. Its walls are painted in a warm yellow that reminds me of the morning sunlight in the fall. In one corner is a large, soft bed with a yellow quilt and in the other corner is a white dresser for my clothes, or lack thereof.
"This is it." He says dropping my bag on the corner of the bed, "Home sweet home." It's hard to miss his dry tone of voice.
I turn to look at him, "It's a beautiful house." I say softly.
He shrugs, "It's alright. Pretty empty. But I guess I paid for it right?"
"You hate it." I summarize with a nod of understanding, "I hated my apartment in the Capitol too. You just can't get their reek out of it."
He smiles wryly and nods before asking, "You hungry?"
I hear the grumbles in my stomach and nod, "Yeah."
"Well, I'm no chef but-"
"I can cook something," I offer, "if you show me where everything is."
"Are you sure?" He asks in surprise. I haven't offered to do anything since I arrived back in the district but tonight's secret walk over lit a spark in me, even if only for a little while. I suddenly feel like I have energy to burn.
"Yeah, I feel okay right now and Juni said I'm supposed to start moving around."
He shrugs, "And we don't want to argue with Juni." He moves past me to lead the way to the kitchen.
I look in his icebox and see it's stocked full of food from the market. It doesn't escape me how ironic, how disgusting it is that this man, living alone, has more food than most families in the district. I don't blame him though. He's certainly suffered enough to have this full icebox. It's the Capitol that I blame because what kind of society can honestly allow children to starve in the streets while wasting so much food on a single person.
I decide on frying up potatoes with the chunks of butcher meat sitting on the shelves. I tell him what pans I need and he pulls them out from cabinets for me. As I take the silver pan from his hand, I happen to catch a glimpse of my reflection. I'm surprised by what I see there- or rather what I don't see there. No one has let me look at my reflection in weeks, not since I caught fire. I was expecting the right side of my face to be scarred beyond belief judging by Brule's inability to look me in the eye.
As I look at myself now, I appear exactly the as I did before. There are circles under my eyes and my cheeks look a bit hollow but my face is unscathed by the flames. I turn to the right and see it then. The burn that had been bandaged right at the corner of my jawbone. It's not large and the pink is lighter than the burns on my torso. It looks like a single flame jumped up and licked me right on my jaw up to the bottom of my ear, three inches in length perhaps.
I look up and see that Rowan is watching me, concern clearly written on his face.
"It's not that bad. You hardly notice it." He says softly.
I start to laugh. Not a bitter laugh but a real, from the gut, laugh. He stands completely still, staring at me like I might be insane and I feel like maybe I am at the moment.
"The way- Brule," I stutter trying to get the words out between fits of laughter, "I thought- my face."
It doesn't take long before my laughter catches and Rowan is leaning a hand on the counter as he laughs like a madman as well. When we finally catch our breath, I straighten up and put the pan on the stove.
"I thought my face was covered in scars the way everyone acted in the Capitol. And then, when Juni still wouldn't let me look at myself in a mirror once I woke up; I thought I was mutilated or something." I turn and give Rowan, who's still in shock at my reaction, a genuine smile.
"I think Juni was afraid you would panic. I mean she saw you on the television too. I think she was worried you might have become obsessed with your appearance like all the women in the Capitol. She didn't want to cause any more distress than you were already in." He explains as he sits at the counter and watches me work.
"Fair enough, I guess." I say as I flip the contents of the pan around.
I serve up two heaping plates once the meat is cooked through and we dig in hungrily. It seems we both worked up an appetite during our stealthy travel from Juni's house. Something in me feels lighter now. Maybe I'm not as destroyed as I had thought.
"This is really good," Rowan mumbles through a mouthful of food as he shovels more in. "I was starting to think something was wrong with my kitchen. Everything I make burns or I end up cutting myself open somehow."
I nod with a chuckle as he practically inhales his food, "Thanks. I used to make this all the time for Ash and Holly. Except we used rabbit, not butcher meat."
"I miss rabbit." He says staring down at his plate. "I haven't had any since... since the Games I guess. My Games I mean. Once I got back, they moved me straight into this place and I had enough money to buy everything in town. They don't sell rabbit meat in town so I haven't been able to get any since then."
"You should catch some." I suggest, chewing thoughtfully.
He shakes his head, "Don't know how. I would always trade for it. With Linden actually, when he had extra." He finishes and his face turns somber.
I stare up at him. It's the first we've ever talked about Linden; the first time Rowan has ever spoken his name to me. I never realized the two had ever spoken before Linden's reaping. Apparently they had known one another better than I would have ever imagined.
Rowan breaks the silence first, "I'm sorry I couldn't bring him home to you." He whispers just barely loud enough for me to hear.
My breath is caught in my throat and I can't speak but Rowan continues anyway. He stares down at his plate when he speaks again.
"I tried. It just wasn't enough. There was nothing I could do to help him once Jewel stabbed him." He's pleading now but I get the impression he barely remembers I'm here.
It's strange because really we're the same. I tried my best to bring Linden home but it wasn't enough. And here is Rowan, sitting across from me at his counter, telling me the exact same thing. In the end, the odds were never in either of our favors. The Capitol always had the power to tip the scales, which it used quite shamelessly. We only thought we had a chance because the Capitol let us believe so but really there was never anything we could have done.
"I know." I whisper as the breath finally releases from my throat. I cover his hand for a moment with my own and he looks up as if he suddenly remembers I am sitting across from him.
"I failed you and then you had to go to the Capitol. And now you're broken." He's staring at me with wide, terrified eyes as he says this as though he can't believe the horror of his statement is real.
In that moment, a life that could have been flashes through my mind. A life where Linden did come home and I didn't have to leave for the Capitol. I never had to leave Holly and Ash. I never sold my voice or body. I married Linden and we worked through the tough parts of life together. We fell asleep in each other's arms every night. I gave birth to our children and we raised them along with Ash and Holly. We grew old together and we died after a long life.
This flash is quickly followed by the what ifs. What if Linden did come back after killing all those children? Would he have been the same boy I fell in love with? I am nearly certain he wouldn't be. Look at all the other Victors; none of them are normal anymore. And I know without a doubt that he would have been wanted in the Capitol. He would have suffered the same fate as so many Victors.
No. Our lives would be nothing like the one that flashed through my mind, not in this Panem anyway.
"It's not your fault, Rowan." I mutter and let my eyes drop to my nearly empty plate. "He's better off dead than if he'd won the Games."
"You're not." He counters with a distraught look.
I shrug, "No. But we can't change it. Don't blame yourself. It's their fault."
It's a bold thing to say, especially in a Victor's house. There's bound to be bugs in here that transmit to the Capitol. But I suppose the Capitol already knows my opinions of it and Rowan certainly won't be tattling. Rowan doesn't look at me again for the rest of the night and he goes to bed early.
I stretch and feel the strain of my new skin the next morning. The sun is already up and I've slept straight through the night. If there were nightmares, I don't remember them so I dress and walk down to the kitchen to find some breakfast.
The door to Rowan's room is already open but he's nowhere to be found downstairs so I make some eggs and toast some bread in the skillet. I eat slowly but Rowan doesn't come home from wherever he's gotten to so I spend the day wandering around the empty house noting how truly empty it is. There are no pictures on the walls or little knick-knacks that indicate a human lives here. Only the essentials are present. This doesn't do me any good since there's nothing to occupy my mind or to distract me from the gnawing in my stomach that I'm sure is all in my mind but it doesn't make it any more comfortable. I would do just about anything to get some morphling right now.
As soon as it's late enough, I make a stew for dinner and I'm just spooning some into a bowel when a sweaty Rowan walks through the front door.
"Hey." He says sounding a little breathless.
"Hi." I reply reaching for another bowel from the cabinet.
"Stew?" He asks sitting down in front of the bowel on the counter.
I nod and sit across from him with my own bowel.
He begins to shovel the food into his mouth immediately and I have no idea how he manages to breath between bites.
"Where were you all day?" I ask as I take a bite myself.
"Around." He mumbles through the food. Then he looks up at me and must see the questioning look on my face since he adds, "I needed to get out. It was a rough night."
"Rough?" I repeat hoping that he might elaborate.
But he doesn't, "Yeah."
So I don't push the subject, "Where did you go?"
"A little bit of everywhere. I stopped by Cypress's for a while. Then I went for a run around before I came back." He says as he stands and refills his bowel.
"You talk to Cypress?" I ask in surprise.
"Yeah." Then he thinks about what he said, "Well, not talk so much. We carve together."
"You carve?" I ask in an even more surprised tone.
He chuckles, "Yeah. I took it up when I stopped drinking. Gives my mind something to do when I don't want to think. Keeps my hands busy too, you know?"
I nod, " Are you any good?"
"I'm no Cypress, but he says I've got the touch," he shrugs with a smile.
"How is Laurel?"
"Good. She's seeing a guy, actually. You know the boy who plays the fiddle every year at the fall festival?" He asks with a little smirk.
"Sure. We were in school together. Cedar, I think is his name. He was at the Victory Tour dinner, too." I say softly as the night flashes across my mind so vividly I feel for a moment that I'm actually in the City Building and not in Rowan's kitchen.
"Yeah. That's him. They've been going together since last fall. He caught her eye at the festival; played her a pretty song."
I smile lightly, "That's nice. I'm glad for her."
"Cypress thinks they'll get married this year."
This surprises me, "The fall festival's only two weeks away."
"Yeah," He nods and scoops the rest of the stew into his mouth, "He's waiting for the proposal any day now." He stands and clears both our bowls from the counter and leaves them in the sink.
"I'm going to go shower. I smell." He says and pads up the stairs quietly.
I decide to wash up the dishes quickly instead of leaving them to do later. The sun has set by the time I finish and the last of the summer's fireflies are floating around out back. I step out onto the back porch that runs the length of the house to take it all in.
It's perfect outside tonight. The air has cooled since the afternoon and a gentle breeze blows through the trees that boarder the property. A lark calls out somewhere in the distance and I can hear children yelling to one another on their way home. I lean on the railing and close my eyes as I take in deep breaths of pine-scented air. This is perhaps one of the things I've missed most about home. The Capitol smells like cars, never like the fresh, clean pine that permeates the air in District 7. It's renewing to breathe in the scent now.
"Don't try to jump." Rowan, hair still damp and curling at nape of his neck, murmurs from right next to me and I hop in surprise. He gives a half-smile, "You might take out a firefly on the way down." I chuckle because it's such a ridiculous idea that someone would jump off the porch like they would a balcony.
"Luckily, there are stairs right there that I can use." I say nodding toward the three steps next to me. Then I hesitantly ask, "Do you really think it's safe to go out in the yard? No one is going to notice?"
He shakes his head slowly, "No. We usually don't pay much attention to the rest of the world here in the Victor's Village."
"Good." I reply, taking his words easily, and walk out to the center of the grassy yard, reveling the feeling of the grass between my toes. I take a seat and lean back on my hands to stare up at the stars. Rowan comes to stand wordlessly next to me as he looks up at the sky as well.
"They don't have this in the Capitol." I say quietly. "All those bright lights drown them out."
"I don't think they mind too much. They don't know what stars are supposed to look like." He mutters. "My little sister used to love picking out pictures in the stars on summer nights like these."
I glance at him, "I didn't know you had a sister."
"I did." He says and sighs, "She's dead now though. I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."
I sit in the yard a long time listening to the woods come to life with the night. The owls start to hoot as they search for their prey. Wolves are howling up on the mountains over a kill. As I breathe in the air I grew up with, it's almost as though I can feel it cleansing me, slowly putting all my shattered pieces back into place. For once, I don't feel the urge to be pulled under a morphling haze. I want to stay as alive as possible so I can remember every moment of this. I don't go back inside to sleep until the moon is already on its descent through the sky.
A week later (or at least it seems like a week- time is all a blur in the Victor's Village), Juni arrives in the afternoon to see how well my burns are healing. I peak through the curtains cautiously and see the old woman standing on the porch so I let her in. Rowan isn't here, probably he's out visiting Cypress like he does most days.
Juni smiles warmly when I open the door for her, "Surprised you're answering doors these days, dear." She says leading the way up to my room so I can undress and let her look at the grafted skin.
"Rowan isn't here." I state simply, pulling my shirt over my head and taking a seat on the bed. She was right when she said the burns looked their worst when I arrived back in seven. They're still an angry looking pink but they're not nearly as horrific as before and the areas are shrinking, leaving behind pale, taut skin.
"Well, that works out well for what I wanted to tell you then." The older woman says and she leans in to examine the burn on my thigh more closely.
"What's that?" I ask, looking out the window at the sunny afternoon in early August.
"Rowan's twenty second birthday is coming up in five days." Juni says levelly as she presses gently on an area of grafted skin on my torso.
"Really?" I hiss in pain at her prodding.
She looks up at me with a raised eyebrow and nods. She motions that I can put my clothes back on so I stand and do so.
"He never mentioned anything." I state.
Juni chuckles, "Doesn't surprise me one bit. He hasn't enjoyed celebrating his birthday since he went to the Games. I just thought since you're stuck here with nothing to do you might enjoy a task."
"Sure. I don't want him to get angry about it though. If he doesn't like to celebrate his birthday, I don't want to force it on him." I reason.
"He wouldn't get mad at you, dear." Juni says with a wry smile.
"Why not?" I frown.
She doesn't answer but hakes her head slowly, still smiling, "Is there anything you want me to get for you before I come back in a few days?"
"He has pretty much everything I'd need to cook something." I muse, "Maybe some strawberries. Those are growing wild right now I bet."
Juni nods in agreement, "I'll see if I can't find a wild bird as well. Then you'll have some fresh meat. Everyone knows you could use it." She says poking me in the side as I swerve to try and miss her.
I laugh but she's right. I lost a lot of weight when I first arrived back in the district. Even though Rowan has enough food stocked up to feed a large family, I haven't managed to gain back all the weight and my ribs show more easily than they should.
"Okay." I agree, "He can't get angry if I just cook for him." I reason and Juni smiles with a nod before heading out the front door again.
Rowan arrives home not much later that afternoon, earlier than he normally comes back. He bursts through the door with more energy than usual, a grin wide across his face.
"Hey." He calls from the door before sliding his shoes off. I look up with a distracted smile from the dinner I'm just sliding into the oven.
"You're in a good mood." I state once I close the oven and note the time.
"It's a great day outside." He says with a shrug but his smile doesn't falter.
I look out the window and see heavy clouds rolling in. I raise an eyebrow, "Really?"
"Sure." He says, splashing a bit of water over his face at the sink. "Don't you like summer storms?"
I think back to all those summer nights I would sit on the porch of the house, waiting for the thunder and lightning to roll in. It must be a District 7 thing. I shake my head with a smile anyway and Rowan chuckles when he sees my reaction.
"Need any help with dinner?" He offers.
"You can peel the potatoes." I say pointing at the bowlful I left soaking on the counter. "Just like carving." I add dryly.
"Right." He rolls his eyes but steps over to the bowl to start working. I watch him work diligently from my perch on the counter. He bites his lip in concentration, brow furrowing each time he hits a knot in the potato skin. I can't help but notice how perfect his profile really is; all long, dark eyelashes and smooth skin framed by his rich auburn hair. I don't realize how long I've been staring at him until he raises his evergreen eyes to meet mine and lifts an eyebrow.
"You know I could get you a picture and sign it for you if you wanted." He says, an edge of laughter in his voice.
I jump slightly as he jolts me from my trance and roll my eyes, "Oh please." I retort weakly. I can't think of any better comeback and he calls my bluff, laughing loudly. I turn away so he can't see the smile creep up to my lips as I listen to him. There's something so innocent about his laugh and it's hard to imagine how he's managed to hold on to that tiny bit of himself through everything.
He mistakes my reaction for irritation though and too soon he quiets down. I'm working on mashing the potatoes in the pan when he tugs gently on the end of my ponytail.
"Are you angry with me?" He murmurs close enough that I can feel his breath on the shell of my ear. I contain the shiver that tries to run down my spine and instead shake my head silently as I step away from him. This doesn't convince him and he leans over the counter next to me. "Are you sure?" He asks, eyebrow raised.
"Yes, I'm sure." I say as I fix my gaze on him, "You're not the first person to ever poke fun at me, Rowan. Don't flatter yourself."
This earns a grin and he doesn't move from his position, watching me while I work. I turn my attention back to the potatoes in front of me. The only sound in the kitchen for a long while is the squishing of potatoes against the masher until I speak up, never looking away from my work.
"Look who's staring now." I say, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. I can see Rowan's eyes widen slightly out of the corner of my eye before he laughs again and pushes off the counter.
"It's not a bad view." He calls as he walks upstairs to wash up before dinner. I shake my head and smile in spite of myself; not because it's been so long since a guy has said something like this but because it's been so long since a guy has been able to joke about something like this with me.
…
Five days later, Juni arrives earlier in the morning than usual carrying a nondescript burlap bag. Rowan hasn't left for the day yet and he hurries to the doorway to greet Juni. She gives his arm a pat as she walks by with a smile.
"Are you in a hurry, Juni?" He calls after her as she starts to climb the stairs.
"I have other patients to see besides your guest, Rowan." She replies, lugging the decidedly heavy bag up the stairs after her.
"You're always complaining that I don't talk with you enough." He says following her up the stairs. I try not to laugh at the perturbed face that Rowan can't see her make.
She turns to face him, "Don't you need to get going somewhere, child?" Rowan's face falters for a moment and he pauses on the stairs. Juni jumps on the moment, "Tell Cypress I said hello and to come by if he's done being stubborn about that knee of his."
Rowan opens his mouth but closes it and nods, "Sure, Juni. I'll let him know." He agrees, running a hand through his hair. "I'll see you later, Camellia." He says to me with a shadow of a smile.
"See you." I return, waving from my place at the top of the stairs. He turns to go and Juni leads the way to my room where she proceeds to instruct me to undress. I do so and she keeps up a professional manner until she hears the front door close and Rowan's footsteps down the road.
"These are looking just fine, Camellia." She says with a smile. "Now for the real business of the day."
I smile and pull my clothes back on as she empties the contents of her bag. Not only has she gotten more than enough wild strawberries but she's also managed to trade for a groosling, cream, and several herbs of the season. I pick up one of the strawberries and take a bite. The sweet flavor bursts in my mouth and I have to consciously keep myself from groaning.
"These are perfect, Juni." I say through my mouthful.
She smiles, "I know how to pick out the best fruit, child." She says, shuffling past me towards the door, "The question is, do you know how to make a pie out of it?"
"Of course." I say, rolling my eyes, "You taught my mother after all."
She chuckles and I follow her to the kitchen downstairs where I know she'll be determined to put her two cents in while I make the strawberry pie. The process is relatively short and within the hour I set the pie down in front of her, glistening red in the afternoon light coming in through the kitchen window.
"Not bad." She comments as she stands from her seat at the counter, "I need to get going. I actually do have a few other patients I need to check in on today. You can handle the rest of the cooking on your own?"
"I think I can manage." I reply jokingly. She chuckles and gives my shoulder a squeeze as she walks past me on her way out the door. "Thanks for everything, Juni." I call after her and she waves off my thanks in reply.
…
I meet Rowan at the door when he returns that evening. Everything is finished cooking and the house smells amazing from the roasted groosling. I've even taken the time to shower and pin my hair back. I clap a hand quickly over his eyes as he walks through the door. He lets out a yelp and grabs my wrist so tightly it hurts- I've scared him.
"Don't open your eyes." I say quickly before he can pull my hand away.
"Wh- Camellia? Why not?" He asks, eyebrows scrunching together but he doesn't try to pull my hand away again.
"Who else would be in your house?" I joke, trying to contain the excitement in my voice, "It's a surprise."
"I hate surprises." He grumbles.
"I don't and I've worked hard on it all day so you should shut your mouth, Rowan Carson." I reply firmly as I guide him forward into the kitchen.
"Smells good." He murmurs lowly as I sit him down in a chair.
"Okay," I say, still standing behind him, "You can open your eyes."
"Wow." He says, surprise clear in his tone. After a moment of gazing at all the food, he turns in his chair to face me, "What is all this for?"
I smile, "Juni told me it was your birthday."
He frowns, "I don't celebrate my birthday."
"That's what she said but she also suggested that maybe you should start again." I reply, sitting in the chair next to him at the small table. He doesn't say anything, staring at the table instead. I frown, "If you don't want to call it a birthday dinner then call it a thank you dinner." I suggest.
"Thank you for what?" He questions, his evergreen eyes meeting my own, perplexed.
I shrug. There's so much to thank him for. "For letting me stay here with you. For bringing me to Juni that first night. For everything in the Capitol." My voice cracks involuntarily and I try to cover it with a cough before adding, "Rowan don't make me grovel for goodness sake. I just cooked dinner for you all day."
This seems to alter his mood drastically. He smiles lightly and starts to serve up the food as he tells me about his day happily, looking younger than I can ever remember seeing him. He keeps me laughing with his jokes and I still can't get over how strange it feels to laugh again but I don't ever want to stop once I start. Today is a good day- I can't help but think. It's the first time I've had the thought in years really.
After we finish eating, I bring the pie to the table and Rowan's face lights up like a child's. It's not an unusual reaction, even for an adult. Something sweet like this is rare in the districts. I cut a slice for him and he digs in immediately. I laugh as I cut one for myself.
"Everything was delicious." He declares after letting out a satisfied burp to which I roll my eyes.
"It was I agree." Leaning back in my own chair, stuffed beyond belief. If eating this doesn't put meat back on my bones I don't know what will. We sit in contented silence for a while before I stand and clear the table, drawing water to start the dishes.
Rowan leaves the room and I don't know what he's up to until I hear the soft cadence of musical notes traveling in from the living room. I continue scrubbing, enjoying the mixture of music notes and the song of the cicadas from the woods outside.
"Dance with me." Rowan orders from right behind me, his breath tickling the stray hairs around my ear.
I jump and turn to face him, looking up at him quizzically, "I don't really dance, Rowan."
"Yes you do." He smiles, holding a hand out to me. "I've seen you."
I shake my head, "That was in the Capitol. I don't want to do that anymore." I explain.
His smile falters for a moment before brightening up again, "I don't mean like that. I've seen you dance to our music, here in the district. I remember you used to dance with your father and your brother at the fall festival every year."
My eyes widen slightly at his words. He's right of course; I always danced with my father and Ash. What surprises me about his disclosure is not the fact of it, but the knowledge that he'd noticed my presence all those years ago. I had always just assumed that he'd never noticed me until the day I threw his drunken body up against the pole in the train station and threatened him.
"How do you remember that?" I ask, frowning but I don't pull my hand away when he takes a gentle hold of it and begins leading me into the living room where the music is clearer. It's a reel from the district and I have no idea how he's managed to get a recording of it. Something like that is expensive, even for a Victor.
"You're a hard person to forget, Camellia." He answers softly as his free hand finds my waist and begins leading me in the twisting patterns of our native dance. There isn't any more time for words as we circle each other quickly in dizzying patterns that leave us breathless. It's strange at first to do these dances that I have banished from thought for so long but as one song after another leads us around the room I feel something click inside me. It's as if a part of me is finally arriving home- a part that I thought might have been lost forever.
By the time we've danced to several songs, I'm red faced and breathless, hair falling down into my face from the pins. Rowan is gasping for air as well and holds a hand to his side.
"Maybe it's- not the- best idea to- dance right after eating." He says with a breathless laugh, "This stitch in my side feels like a knife."
I can't catch my breath enough to do anything other than laugh at his predicament. We rest for several songs before Rowan's side has recovered enough that he can stand up straight again just as the opening notes of a much slower tune start to float through the room.
He sticks out his hand to me again and this time I take it without hesitation. He pulls me closer to him and wraps and arm lightly around my waist. As he does so, I notice how he smells like the pinewood that he carves all day with Cypress and how his arm seems to fit so comfortably around me; how he doesn't let his hand slide any lower or travel unnecessarily to any other part of my body.
When I look up at him, he's already watching me, some emotion I can't quite place rampant on his face. He quickly erases this look however and replaces it with a lazy smile. The same smile that the Capitol fell in love with- one known for causing women to swoon. And though I've never been one of the women that his smile effected, a blush creeps up my neck for reasons I can't seem to understand and I mentally reprimand myself. There's absolutely no reason I should be able to blush anymore after everything I've been forced through.
"Thank you." He murmurs, oblivious to my inner battle to stop the color from rising to my face. "It's a perfect birthday."
I smile softly, "You're welcome, Rowan. Happy birthday."
He opens his mouth to say something but the music stops with a zipping noise, causing me to step back from him quickly as though I've been caught doing something I know I shouldn't be. He closes his mouth and walks over to turn the machine off.
I can't stop my eyes from staring at his auburn hair, glowing in the setting sunlight, and how his broad shoulders move beneath the loose fabric of his light green shirt. The blush starts anew when I realize what I'm thinking and I duck my head both to hide the emotion and to stop myself from continuing to stare. Where is all of this even coming from? Rowan is just allowing me to stay with him. Why is my mind so polluted that I can't just be friends with a man?
He returns to stand in front of me, leaning against the back of the couch and crossing his arms as he does so. When I finally look up, he's staring at me again in that strange way.
"You're getting pretty old." I comment quickly to eliminate any chance that I'll start blushing again.
He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, dragging it down to rub the back of his neck, "I'm only twenty two. That's hardly past my prime."
"Well I'm only twenty so I guess you'll have to forgive my bias." I say with a joking grin.
He shakes his head but can't hide the smile on his face, "I'm sorry to tell you this but you're already past your best years compared to most of my suitors, Camellia."
I can't hold in my laughter at this, "Oh really?"
"Yes." He nods soberly, "The average age of a girl after me in District 7 these days is about fourteen."
This really gets me laughing in earnest as I imagine the gaggle of schoolgirls following Rowan around town. I hold a hand to my stomach as I try to stop laughing but the idea is too amusing. He let's out a chuckle or two as well before reaching out to take my free hand in his own.
"Let's watch the sunset before bed?" He suggests. I nod and let him lead me out to the back porch where the sun is setting between the trees and the mountain peaks. The sky is lit up in shades of deep red and orange and purple. We sit silently on the steps, listening to the late larks going home to their nests for the night and the cicadas striking up their sonata in full force now.
Once the sky has turned a deep blue and all the stars have come out, I stand and stretch. Rowan follows suit, watching me as he does.
"I'm off to bed I think." I say, shooting him a quick smile as I move to the door.
"Camellia," He calls after me. I turn to look back at him from the doorway, "Thanks for making me celebrate my birthday."
"You're welcome." I say and smile lightly before letting the screen door close behind me as I make my way upstairs.
…
I'm in a room with my hands tied behind my back. It's dark but I can just see the night sky out a small crack in the wall. My body is cramping from sitting on the floor for so long when the door slams open and a figure appears. He throws a bucket of liquid over me and I scream as it burns. I look down and see my skin has melted away to show the red tissue beneath it as blood pours out of me. But I don't die. I'm screaming for the figure to help me, not to kill me but he just stands and watches. Then, just when I think I'm going to die of blood loss, a fire lights and engulfs what is left of my body. I let out an animalistic scream but the figure doesn't respond.
"Camellia," a voice calls out from outside, under the night sky.
"Camellia!" Rowan shakes me as I scream and the trembling starts. I cross my arms and pull my knees to my chest.
"It's okay." He whispers soothingly, "Camellia, you're safe. You're here in the Victor's Village of District 7. They can't hurt you here."
I catch my breath before countering, "Yes they can. They still are." I close my eyes trying to will away the desire for morphling that I had hoped, after such a good day, was dwindling but I find is now eating away at my insides. That dream was so real. The pain was so tangible. But I'm here, not there.
"They're in my mind." I add in an undertone.
He doesn't say anything as he sits on the edge of my bed and pulls my head to his chest. I don't fight him as he wraps his warm arms around me; appreciating the feeling of safety it gives me no matter how superficial.
The words escape my lips before I get the chance to stop them, "It was him. He set me on fire again."
I hear his breath catch and for a moment we're both silent. I turn my face into his shirt and try to steady my own breathing, repeating to myself that I'm safe; that no one is going to hurt me here.
"Why did he do it?" Rowan whispers in question, almost as if he's afraid asking me might set me off screaming again. And it might.
"I made him angry." I reply just as softly.
"How?"
So I answer him. In the most basic way possible, I try to explain what happened that night. How I couldn't remember actually hurting Milo because I was on so much morphling. Milo's face as he poured the brown liquor over me. My confusion as he dragged me to the fireplace. The pain. How he stood over me and watched as I tried to put out the fire. How the Avox had found me there and gotten Urela to help. How Urela, my only friend in the Capitol, called for help even though I was half dead and delirious.
I don't tell him the details though. The words Milo said to me. The way he threw me around like some toy. The way my thighs always bruised under his touch. The horror that having my wrists pinned over my head strikes in me. I leave those details for another day somewhere in the future- maybe never.
When I'm finished, Rowan's shirt is wet with tears and I'm exhausted. He moves to sit against the headboard of the bed, still cradling my body against his own. He doesn't say anything for a long time as he pulls a hand gently, ever so gently through my hair. The touch of his hand alone is nearly enough to set me off again. It's too gentle. No one can honestly be so sweet. The only person who could ever touch me so gently is dead now for the Capitol's entertainment. Hands are supposed to get what they want, not sooth an unsettled screw-up.
"I'm sorry that happened to you, Camellia." Rowan says softly, pulling me away from my pitiful thoughts and I can tell he means it. His voice is full of empathy, not pity. He knows what it's like to be under the control of the Capitol, to be bought and sold.
I know he's like Finnick. I don't know how people treat the Victors they buy but I know that he doesn't desire to be with those Capitol women. I don't know if they torture and beat him like the Patrons do the district entertainers but I can tell from his tone that he means every word that he says; that he can envision even if he can't completely understand what it was like for me in the Capitol.
Something inside me heals at this thought and at his gentle touch. I know I'm not alone even though I've been separated from Urela and banished from the Capitol. Rowan is here. He wants to help me. So as his hands continue to play with my hair, I don't shy away. I desire this sense of safety that his presence brings me tonight.
"Rowan," I whisper as his hands continue weaving through my hair. He hums in question, "I'm sorry I ruined your birthday."
"You didn't." He murmurs softly, "It's still a perfect birthday, Camellia. We're both here and safe. Nothing can ruin my birthday as long as that's still true."
I let him hold me against his chest until I fall asleep, his hand still brushing through my hair. Or maybe I cling to him and wouldn't let him leave if he tried. It doesn't matter much though since neither of us makes any move to leave the other. When I wake up the next morning, I've been tucked snuggly into my bed and Rowan is gone again.
AN: And that's it for this week folks! I'm still waiting to hear any opinions about the 100,000 word celebratory post so please let me know if you have any ideas at all- however random they may be. Also, within the next two weeks I will be taking finals, doing some celebrating, graduating and moving back from school. So with that said, the next part may be delayed but I appreciate your patience!
To emjay: I believe you're review last time cut off so if it left out something important feel free to send another!