Work Text:
Haymitch could live there forever. He was sure he would if he had every chance. He already knew that sooner than later, he’d have to stir Lenore Dove where she was sleeping against him. But for now… for now, he was soaking in every moment that he could.
It was rare that he’d be able to sneak out this long, at least on the weekends. He usually had to help out with the still with Hattie, or try to get his chores taken care of for his Ma. But maybe he’d just gotten lucky with them both. Or maybe, they felt he was deserving of a small bit of a break before his birthday that upcoming week. And what that birthday would mean on the day it was.
It was something for him to worry about at some other point, something that he wanted to put to the back of his mind as quickly as he could. He knew what the mention of the day could turn into, the way that it could wipe any hope or joy out. He didn’t want to ruin the day, whatever was left of it, especially not when Lenore Dove was as peaceful as she was.
He didn’t know how long she’d been asleep next to him, curled up small and tucked against his chest. It was a sight he could get used to, one that he knew one day he’d get to wake up to every day. Every morning, he’d stir to the sight and be lucky enough to kiss awake. It felt sooner than ever that it would happen. He knew exactly how their life would go. Forever was exactly what they were heading toward. And he’d known that since the first moment he’d seen her up in the apple tree branch with those crooked pigtails.
Sooner or later, he’d have to stir her from where she was sleeping. Even if he was sure that the two of them could lie there forever. Eventually, he’d have to help her pack up their picnic and follow along with her back toward the Seam. He needed to have her back before supper, knowing that Clerk Carmine might just skin him if she was a second late.
The warmth of the sun was trying to coax him into a nap just like it had her. It was nearly too hot, but their swim in the lake had given them some kind of shield from it. All he felt was peace, a content that was echoed by the song of the birds that were flying around above them in the trees.
He moved to press a kiss to the top of her hair, his eyes searching over the face that he loved more than anything. He wanted to study her, every inch, to soak her into his mind. He’d always wanted to be able to close his eyes and be able to picture every bit of her. And even when he was able to do just that, he was sure he’d still study her like that until his last breath.
Her hair. He’d always been so intrigued by her head of curls, ones that were so carefully taken care of. He could still remember the sight of her, high in the tree, tucked carefully into two crooked pigtails. He’d seen them in every style under the sun, ones that he never knew which he loved more. He was sure it shone in the sun, a red tint that was so beautiful to look at, one that he would never be able to recreate.
Her Uncle Tam Amber had spent every morning helping her get it just right. He’d always been so careful, being sure that she had whatever hairstyle she wanted. He’d only gotten older over the years, hands that had spent years molding metals for those of the District. But the thing he was proudest of was his hands being able to make Lenore Dove the happiest.
Hair that Tam Amber had sat him down with and taught him so carefully how to take care of. He’d watched all too carefully, trying to make sure he got it just right. The man had laughed, trying to help soothe, to keep him calm, as he’d fumbled along. But eventually he’d gotten it right. Eventually, Tam Amber had given him one of those gentle nods, one that made him feel more pride than he should have.
Her mind. She was the most brilliant person that he knew, in ways that he would never fully understand. His father had been smart, in a quiet kind of way, something that the two of them seemed to share. Lenore Dove would never show off just how smart she was, something that felt like he was only just lucky enough to know from his proximity to her.
He tried to understand the way that her mind worked. He probably asked her more questions than anyone ever should. But all he wanted was to understand the way that it did. If he ever didn’t understand, he wanted to make sure that maybe, just maybe, he could.
Sometimes it made him feel stupid. Not that she ever made him feel that way, no, but rather that he wasn’t always able to keep up with her. And that was all that he wanted to do. He wanted to make sure that he understood her. It was exactly what she deserved, someone who would understand her inside and out. And he tried every bit that he could.
Her dreams, ones that sometimes he was lucky enough to learn. Sometimes he could see it in the way that she lingered on the outskirts of the woods. Woods that if they stayed too close to, it seemed like her Uncle would just know what they were up to. The same woods that she could disappear into without him for hours.
She’d always dreamed of something more. Of a life that was different from what they had always known. She made her feelings about the world around them well known, or at least to him and Burdie. It’d been a conversation that had been banned from the Covey home, one that was whispered in the quiet of the woods. He always tried to listen, to try and further understand.
But sometimes, sometimes those conversations could cause her to go quiet. Sometimes her gaze would be more distant, looking like she was choking back tears that she couldn’t voice aloud. And all he could do was settle beside her instead and be there when she could finally speak once more.
Her face, one that people would have once gone to war for, a phrase she’d read to him once, and he’d understood immediately. That was exactly what hers was. She was the most stunning person that he knew. His rare and radiant girl, who shone brighter than the sun.
He could watch her for hours, tracing over every single line on her face. The furrow between her brows would grow when she’d become frustrated. The crinkles around her eyes as she tried to fight back laughter. The way her eyes would roll in something between annoyance and fondness at his words.
Her beauty marks, the freckles that scattered over that beautiful face that he loved more than anything. Small imperfections, in his eyes, but ones that he only saw as what made her as perfect as she was. She’d grumble and groan as he kissed over every single one, connecting them with kisses like the constellations in the sky.
Her eyes, ones that he could drown in every time that he looked at her. They were so filled with emotions, ones that he always tried to figure out as quickly as he could. They were ones that he’d never be able to look away from, forever burned into his brain.
There was something about the way that she could look at him that made him lose his breath. Sometimes he would catch her gaze across the classroom, and he was sure that he’d lose track of time. He could still remember the way that she’d watched him so closely as they’d walked back from the apple tree together all those years ago.
They were so filled with love. It was a love that he would never be able to get over. It was a love that was so overwhelming, it could feel like he might choke. But what a way it would be for him to go.
Her smile. It was his favorite sight. He had no doubt about that. She could always have such a serious look on her features, usually trying to hide whatever emotion she was feeling. She often kept quiet in class, trying to keep her head down and not get called out on by any of the adults. Seeing that smile, a little shy and nervous, across the classroom always made his heart feel warm.
He loved making her smile. The way that her smile could cross her lips, just the slightest bit crooked, the way the corner of her lip could curl up in response. His eyes would always linger, locked on her lips, and thinking about them for far too long.
He loved her lips for that reason just the same. Their kisses. It was something that he’d never get enough of. Their first kiss had been awkward, nervous, and shy as he’d walked her back to the Covey home, only for her Uncle to catch sight of them. And the kisses had only gotten better, dreamier, things he could think about long after she’d gone home.
Her voice, a sound that could bring him back to the world around them. Her voice was able to soothe him, to make him feel right at home. There was something that was always far too comforting and had always been his favorite thing to hear, even when she’d been squawking away at him.
She would sing to him some days just because. Sometimes, he’d be lucky enough to hear her reading aloud. Or a fit of giggles that she couldn’t contain, one that was so contagious that they both fell into the laughter together. And even more, he’d get to hear her say his favorite words.
I love you like all-fire.
Her music. The songs that he would listen to her hum more often than anything. It was a sound that was comforting, that could lull him almost immediately to sleep. And even more rare, just like his girl, he’d get to hear her sing. Some of the songs were ones that they were taught in music assembly. But some were ones that he knew she wasn’t supposed to be singing.
He’d find her sometimes in the meadow, curled up around her tunebox, and causing the piano keys to wheeze out some old song that was deep in her Covey history. They were songs that were banned, whether that was by her Uncles alone, or by the District itself, he didn’t quite know. But her voice was so beautiful, one that would haunt his mind. He could hear her at times, when the song could get far too stuck in his head, as she’d always be part of him, no matter how far they may travel from one another.
Her sweet tooth, one that he would tease her over with each bag of gumdrops that he’d surprise her with. He’d never been the biggest fan of them, though he’d found himself loving them simply because of her. Anytime he’d go into the Donner candy store, he’d always grab at least a few of them to bring her as a surprise.
She would swear that she could taste each flavor. That each gum drop was different, as if it wasn’t all the same. He’d always roll his eyes as he’d tell her just what it was, and sometimes, the same color would be a different flavor depending on her mood. No matter how far from high on his list they were, he would still sit across from her and try to catch them as she tossed them at his mouth, the two filled with giggles.
The colors followed her everywhere she went. As plain as her clothes could be, muted skirts and old denim overalls, there was always a reminder of color. Ribbons of daffodil, of raspberry and blue, colors that had always seemed to mean something to her. Rainbows that had appeared from nowhere helped patch any holes or scrapes that came from use or growth.
There was no color in the world that wasn't tainted by the reminder of her. He could catch one across the meadow and be reminded of a moment beside her. She was a world of rainbows that he'd never opened his eyes to until the moment he'd laid his eyes on her.
No matter what happened between them, there was one thing he knew. No matter how far they went, or the way the world might try to pull them apart. His world would forever be filled with color because of Lenore Dove.
Her heart, something that he always said was his favorite part of her. Her heart was so big, bigger than anything that he had ever known. And he knew how lucky he was that she loved him with it. That somehow, with all of the world that she was capable of loving, he was part of it. That he was so incredibly loved by the most lovely human who had ever walked the earth.
She saw just how cruel the world could be, how harsh it could be to those who were less fortunate. And instead of becoming cruel just like it, she had always stayed so soft. She’d always only allowed her heart to grow more, to open her arms even wider for those who needed help.
Even the people that she disliked the most, there was still a want in her heart for them to do well, to be better. She could speak angrily like no other, how much she disliked one of the girls at school, but he knew the anger came from how the girl had spoken about her Uncle’s work. Of how those harsh words had been turned toward people she cared for, and how she wanted to try and heal that hurt.
She wanted to make the world better. It was something she wanted more than anything. And sometimes, he didn’t know if the world deserved someone as good as her in it.
Her fingers, ones that were so small, so delicate, so perfectly practiced. As delicate as they seemed, the smallest of grooves, of calluses from the instruments she played so carefully. The way her fingers would practice against the desk during class, waiting patiently for everyone else to catch up with her. Sometimes they’d be painted, soft, dull colors that never quite stood out. But every now and then, there was more. Like a bright orange that had stained her fingers, a color he had adored on her.
The way that her fingers fit so perfectly with his. His hand could dwarf hers in a moment, able to fold his fingers over top of hers. The way he'd always pull her hand in closer, pressing a dozen kisses along her palm, knuckles, and fingertips, that would earn him a blush and giggle.
The way that a touch of her hand had been enough to cause him to lose all of his cool. The brush of her hand as they had walked side by side back from the apple tree that first day. The way a simple touch caused his hands to feel clammy for the first time in his life.
Her books, things that she loved so delicately. Pages from a world before that she tried to dive away into. Worlds away from the harshness that they often found themselves within. Carefully rebounded by her Uncles to try and make them last a little longer for her.
They could spend hours together, as peacefully as one could be. He'd lie with his head in her lap as she read, sometimes to herself and others to him. Her free hand would find its way to his curls, soothing as could be. He'd found himself asleep more often than not, as at peace as he'd ever be.
The scar on her knee, one that he adored to see. She'd fallen off the bike that they had found out in the Seam. It’d been one that a Peacekeeper had likely left behind, one that they had ridden around on for as long as they could. It’d been the best week that any of them could ask for.
Lenore Dove had taken a tumble, one that had knocked out one of her loose teeth. He’d been terrified he’d get in trouble for her getting hurt. But all she had done was pop back up with laughter and a bloody mouth and knee. The new tooth had grown in, but there’d always been a reminder right on her knee, one that he’d always remember to kiss when he’d help her put her boots on.
Her geese, the same ones that had left him with a few scars of his own. He’d always been uneasy around them, the speed at which they could chase after him if he was their target. He was sure that they would trade him for a handful of cracked corn if it meant he’d never come around them again.
But Lenore Dove? Those were her babies. She was the first face any of them had seen, imprinted on a face so lovely, just like he’d practically done himself. They’d follow her around, honking at her if she was a moment late to see them. She sang to them, curled up with them, cried over them. She’d even written her last will and testament to them, leaving every earthly belonging she had to them. And he was sure that she would have found a way to make sure that they got just that.
Her stars. Because that was what they were, hers. She allowed Sid to share with her, something that always made his heart swell, seeing the two of them tucked together and pointing out the constellations above them. Tam Amber had taught her from a young age, something that she had passed down to Sid to do just the same. They both had always had their head in the clouds, eyes on the stars, far too special to just keep their feet on the ground.
The way that the stars would sparkle in the sky always reminded him of her eyes. The way that she would watch him, like he’d hung the moon himself, though he never quite felt he’d be able to do anything quite so special. The shooting stars and comets that she’d excitedly point out, the way her eyes would clench tight, and she’d wish as hard as she could. He’d never know just what she wished for, but he always had a feeling of just what felt important enough for her to want.
Her song. A song that sometimes he still struggled to understand, one that he had spent months trying to memorize. And he’d done just that, last December, for her birthday. He’d never felt that he was much for singing. He’d much rather leave that to her or Burdie. But that winter day, he’d spent it cuddled next to her at the cabin, singing her song for her.
He was sure it was a song that had been meant to show just how insane the author had become at the loss of his love. Something that he felt he could understand himself, when he had his own rare and radiant girl that he couldn’t imagine a life without. The idea of it all, of having to pick himself off the floor, of trying to ever feel love again, with the ever-present loss of his Lenore Dove? He’d never be able to escape it.
But thankfully, he knew he wouldn’t have to worry about that until they were far older. When their bones ached more, and their hair had started to gray. When all they were capable of doing was lying down beside one another. He hoped they wouldn’t have to live a day without one another. And somehow, it would still never be enough. Which was why they’d find each other in every lifetime, something he’d never quite believed in before Lenore Dove either.
Her color. Hers. Dove. Warm gray with a slight purplish or pinkish tint. Her color. Her bird. Her name.
It was a color he hadn’t quite noticed before, or at least never really paid attention to. Not in a way that seemed to matter. But the longer he knew her, the clearer the color came to him. Something was comforting in the way the color seemed to always appear when he needed her most. When he missed her, there would always be some reminder of her that wasn’t far away. He’d always be lucky for that, he knew that much.
The rebellious part of her, a part of her that made him worry more than anything. She’d always deny it, that she would be able to cause any bit of trouble. But he’d heard her words before. She could talk up a storm for a girl who seemed so curled in on herself. When she felt something wasn’t right, she didn’t let that go easily. She’d been arrested twice, both when they were eleven, but ever since, she’d been on a streak of good behavior.
But some part of him wondered if that was even true. Some part of him saw the way that her mind ran, how quietly she would watch, the way her face could change at times. There was more, deep inside her, things that she tried not to let interrupt. He was almost sure she did it out of worry. That if she caused trouble, it could only cause trouble to the people that she loved.
It worried him more than anything. The way that she could stare off at times, how distant he could watch her become after lashings out from the Peacekeepers. When there were hangings or whippings, the way he could see the light fade from her eyes, how he’d hold her as she wept afterwards about how ugly the world was.
He would watch the way her eyes would linger on the woods when they’d sit in the meadow. The way that she’d always still, she’d hesitate to follow him back toward her home at times. It was a worry sometimes that she’d just disappear. But he always knew she’d come home. She’d have to come home. She’d always find her way home to him.
The longer he watched her, the more he knew just how special things would be. He knew that this would be what his future was made of, early mornings taking in the sight of her as they grew older by each other’s sides. He’d be able to watch every gray hair come in, every wrinkle that would appear, every sign of aging, something they’d do by each other’s side.
He didn’t know much about what the future would look like. But what he did know was that she would be there. He’d love her. He’d beg her Uncle Clerk Carmine for a chance to marry her, something he knew the man would give him a hard time for. But he’d do everything he could to make sure that the man knew that he would do anything he could for her. He’d marry her.
They’d raise some kids, ones that would be so loved and cared for. She’d teach them the Covey way, the music, the songs, a life that would be passed on just as it had to her. They’d be the perfect mix of the two of them, hoping more than anything they took after her more than him. That they would all have a brain like hers, a curiosity, a heart that was too big for the world, that they would always do their best to nurture.
He didn’t know what he would do either in the future. Maybe digging coal like his Pa had, though the idea of being down there caused him more stress than he liked. Or maybe he’d take out the white liquor business from Hattie. He’d be able to make more that way, make sure that his family was well taken care of. Even if it could be some trouble, if it made their life a little easier, he’d do what he had to.
None of it would matter if he had Lenore Dove with her. They would figure everything out in whatever way they needed to. That was the only plan that he had. The two of them would be together for the rest of their lives. And that would be enough.
He watched her a few moments longer as she slept. He didn’t want to disturb her for a moment. But the placement of the sun up in the sky told him just how time was running out. Her uncle would be searching for them sooner or later, and the last thing he needed now was getting on his bad side. Not when his birthday was that week. Not when he could just maybe have enough good behavior that she could stay a bit late with him.
He pressed another kiss to the top of her head, trailing a line of kisses from the top of her curls to her temple. He didn’t want to move. Not when it felt like the rest of the world could move on without them. But he needed to.
“Lenore Dove,” he whispered, smiling as he heard the small groan that left the girl in his arms. “My love, we gotta get up.”
“I don’t wanna,” she mumbled, though he could feel her stretching in his hold. She’d be up, even though her eyes were squeezed tight to avoid the sunlight shining into them. “Can’t we just stay here?”
“I wish we could,” he answered. And he did. Though he knew eventually they’d want to wander back to their families. No matter how nice this all was then. “But I think your Uncle would come up here and never allow me to see you again if he had to make the hike up here.” It was a half-joke, though part of him wouldn’t put it past him either.
There was a soft hum in response, as if she was contemplating the problem they’d face, before she seemed to finally give in. She twisted in his hold, pulling her sweet face away from where she’d been buried away into him. He was met with a sleepy smile as her eyes blinked open, her free arm shifting to try to block out the sun. “Can’t let him go groundin’ me before your birthday. Sure that he’s lookin’ for an excuse.”
He smiled at the sight of her, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. It was sweet, gentle, a small little reminder of the love that he felt for her. A love that he hoped she’d always be able to tell, even if his words weren’t always there like they should be. “I’m sure he is.”
He didn’t move until she was ready, letting her take her time to stretch and sit up, her small hands rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She was still tired, he could tell that much, but they’d manage more than fine on the walk back. He moved to his feet first, offering his hands out to her to take. He pulled her up to her feet, shifting to press a few kisses over her face for good measure. It was enough to pull a few giggles from her, as tired as she was. He’d never get tired of it all. Of her face, of the sounds that left her, of the love that he entirely felt every single step of the way when it came to her. She is the most precious thing he has ever known. Something he always wanted to make sure that she knew. “I love you like all-fire.”
“I love you like all-fire, too.”