day nineteen. sacred.


roven lyrrell, district six. seventeen. lxviii.

x

Roven is not a liar.

Though, he does live with secrets. Too many to count. But secrets aren't lies. They walk a thin line between omission and deception. It's an important distinction, especially when you're Roven Lyrrell.

For a long time, he kept the biggest secret from himself.

That was until Aizen. He was a sepia photograph of a boy, brown tones and warm, otherworldly features. A creature that stepped directly out of his dreams, sent to terrorize Roven.

Brutal smiles and even nastier jabs masked his longing, especially during the first two years of their tentative friendship.

Friendship. A term too mundane for what grew between them. Gawain was a friend. Hell, a brother. Aizen was more.

Will always be more.

Stolen glances. Barbed wire blows. Carefree nights spent in each other's company, when their tributes fucked off to who knows where. It all played on repeat.

Aizen was the temple where Roven found solace — his very own secret religion. He spent late nights reading ancient texts, becoming more and more devout. Memorized the way his knobby, fine-boned fingers moved, completing menial tasks.

Now, he can openly practice his faith. It feels freeing to know someone like a second self. To be wanted.

It's almost like adrenaline, liveliness, a feeling of danger that flows from Aizen's body directly into Roven's blood and sings when it meets his soul.

They may live districts apart, a puzzle kept separated and unfinished, but they fought for each other. Choose one another, despite the odds.

Roven will erect temples brick by brick to spread the word if it means keeping their faith alive. For his love is sacred, kneeling at the altar of the boy he reveres.


If you know, you know :)

Definitely not subtle with this one.