Archive of Our Own

The heat of a mid August day hangs heavy over District 12 as they make their way through the streets of the Seam, their destination one of the buildings that sits in the strip that blurs the line between the Seam and the merchant side of town. That year's Hunger Games, the 52nd to be exact, had come and gone once more and the threat of being reaped that had hung over Maysilee since she’d first understood what exactly the Hunger Games were and what they entailed when she was barely 6 years old was gone for good now, by next years reaping she and her sister would be 19 and her name would never be called out from the lips of the Capitol escort. The fresh grief of the District losing another two kids left the streets quiet and so Maysilee tries to keep her voice down, not as cruel as most people seem to think she is, even as her bafflement rises. 

“You want me to join you and Burdock and one of his friends on what, a double date?” Maysilee asks her best friend, shifting the basket of herbs she’s carrying from one arm to the other as it grows tired. 

“It isn’t a double date,” Asterid clarifies, shifting her own basket the same way, “Burdock just wants to have a nice day at the lake and he invited along a new friend and he told me I should bring along one of my friends so his doesn’t feel like…”

“Like a third wheel with you two?” Maysilee finishes her friend's sentence, grinning as Asterid just rolls her eyes. 

“I guess,” Asterid continues, “So will you join us?”

“You haven’t asked Merrilee?” Maysilee asks, still confused about how she was the one Asterid came too. 

“She… might be busy that day,” She replies sheepishly, keeping her eyes on the road ahead, avoiding Maysilee’s amused gaze. 

“Yeah that makes sense,” Maysilee sighs, letting Asterid unlock the door to the apothecary they finally arrived to as she thinks, “Yeah ok, I’ll join you,” She finally accepts, raising a hand as Asterid turns to her with a bright smile, “But you owe me, Ok?”

“Ok.”

— —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- 

The heat peaked over the next few days and by the time Asterid showed up at the Sweet Shop to drag her through the District the sun was blazing and Maysilee tried to stay within the few shadows she could as they made their way to the Seam. She fiddles with the hem of her blue dress in an attempt to use it to fan herself, her necklaces warm where they sit against her chest, though there are fewer than she normally wears, and are already gathering sweat and she hopes this lake she is being taken to will have a nice breeze. 

They arrive at Burdock’s place, where Asterid also lives since her mother kicked her out a few months before, when he spots them he raises from where he’d been sitting by the front door with a grin, giving Asterid a quick kiss and a nod to Maysilee. 

“Glad you could come Maysilee,” He says, she merely shrugs as she uses her hand to fan herself, “Wyatt should be waiting near the fence already, we’ll head there now.”

“Who is your friend anyway?” Maysilee asks as they begin walking again, pace trailing slightly behind the couple. 

“Wyatt, Wyatt Callow,” Burdock begins, looking back at Maysilee as he continues to walk forward, “I met him when I started in the mines. You probably would've seen him around school but he would’ve been a year or two above us.”

Maysilee tries to think back to school and those who had been in the years above her but she can’t place a face to the name of Wyatt. Burdock clearly picks up on her confusion and so continues, “He’s about this tall,” he says, waving his hand not too much taller than herself, “He has dark hair, dark eyes-”

“His family is part of the Booker Boys,” Asterid says, cutting her boyfriend off as Maysilee’s confusion continues. 

“Oh..” Maysilee mutters. She hadn’t known about the Booker Boys for very long, not compared to how infamous they are to the Seam and Seam children. But during the 50th Hunger Games one of the male tributes had been the son of a Booker Boy, his name had been Callahan and he’d been about 14 or 15 years old when he’d died brutally on their screens. She’d seen him in the halls of school and had never given him a second glance nor known he was viewed as any different then any other Seam boy. But as many adults around her had muttered about karma as Callahan had spit up blood from eating some poison plants in desperation she’d been filled in.

“But trust me, he’s a good guy, ok?” Burdock reassures, and somehow, it is reassuring. Of course she’ll stay her final opinion until she actually meets the guy but Asterid trusts Burdock and, even if it had taken time, so did Maysilee, so she nods and he grins before looking forward once more. 

“Is this safe anyway?” Maysilee asks once a few minutes pass and the houses begin to become further and further from each other. 

“Oh we’ll be fine,” Burdock replies easily, “This area is only ever patrolled on reaping day and the fence never has power to it.”

“Ok…” Maysilee mutters, sharing a look with Asterid who only smiles back.

“Oh hey, there he is,” Burdock says, eyes locked on a figure near the fence, who is evidently making use of the one tree near the fence and the shade it provides, “Wyatt! Hey man!” he calls out, waving largely. 

Maysilee peaks over Burdock’s shoulder as Wyatt waves back, smaller and without yelling back, and immediately he’s less grating then Burdock had been at first. Her eyes trail over his features and she thinks she recognises the deep eyes, olive skin and dark hair from the halls at school, his presence blurred into the background of her school days. But what she actually remembers him from was the funeral for the tributes that had died during the 50th Hunger Games. 

One of the female tributes had been a friend of Merrilee’s and she’d attended the funeral to support her sister. She remembered as the skies had opened above them, every single person in attendance soaked to the bone but far from cold as the heat had continued along with the rain. Her eyes had scanned the crowd as Burdock had sung a mournful song and she remembered how she had been caught on his face across from her, hair plastered against his forehead as he’d kept his head tilted down, a hat clenched in his hands. She doesn’t remember why he had captivated her gaze so much, perhaps she’d recognised him ever so slightly, but she’d looked away as the chorus was sung again and she tilted her head down like he had been and had been too distracted by comforting her sister to figure out who he was. 

Now that she knew who he was, and who his family were, it made sense why he was at the funeral, he would’ve known Callahan, might’ve even been related to him, a cousin, maybe? But in her opinion, he looks better in the sunlight without fresh grief and rain weighing him down. 

“Wyatt, this is Asterid my girlfriend,” Burdock introduces once they’ve reached him, all gathered closely under the shade, “And this is Maysilee, her best friend.” They all echo ‘Hello’s and ‘nice to meet you’s before Burdock shuffles them all through the gap in the fence. 

The walk to the lake from the fence is longer than Maysilee hoped it would be but it being mostly under shaded trees keeps her from complaining loudly. And once they reach the waters edge she’s glad she agreed to come, the breeze off the expansive water is lovely and cooling against her warm skin, the flora flourishing along the edge of the lake is a range of colours wider than she’d ever seen. So caught up in the view she stops where she stands to take it in as the others continue to a nearby pier and the soft grass near it. 

Eventually she rejoins the group, sitting herself in the grass, eyes watching the calm waters of the lake as Asterid and Burdock sit on the shore, their feet in the water, talking quietly and sweetly. Wyatt walks along the shore, a good mile down before he turns around and returns and, surprisingly to Maysilee, sits beside her. Still a foot or so of distance between them but close enough her eyes flick to him and take in his side profile and the way a scrip coin she assumes he pulled out of a pocket from his shorts roll over his fingers. She continues to stare as the breeze ruffles his hair until his eyes flick from the lake to her and she turns away so quickly she knows there's no way she got away with it. 

“Do you know how to swim?” Wyatt asks, voice soft but not quiet as he breaks the silence that fell over them. 

“Uh,” Maysilee stutters, caught off guard by Wyatt talking to her, before she regains her footing, keeping her head facing forward towards the water, somehow a deeper blue then the sky above, but unable to keep her eyes from looking back at him in her peripherals, “No I don’t,” She admits, “Do you?”

“I do,” He says, pocketing his coin before he continues, “The broken fence is a bit of an open secret in parts of the Seam.”

“Or if your family works with a lot of rule breakers?” She says with a small smile, a smile most people miss when she’s trying to be teasing not actually mean, but Wyatt seems to catch it as he rubs the back of his neck bashfully.

“That might’ve been a part of it,” He admits a little ashamed, his smile is lopsided, exposing a dimple on one of his cheeks. Her eyes stick to it, without her agreement her head had turned so she’s only looking at him, not the lake, her eyes move from his cheek back to his eyes as he speaks again, “I could teach you, if you were wanting to learn?”

“Really?” Maysilee asks, thrown off by the offer, and even further thrown by the fact it seems completely sincere. 

“Yeah, I mean only if you wanted to,” He says, “But if you don’t want to that’s-”

“No, no,” Maysilee interrupts, ”That'd be great, actually. Better than third wheeling the two of them.” she continues, nodding towards where the happy couple is standing in the shallow water. 

“Yeah, just hearing Burdock talk about her all the time can be bad enough,” Wyatt says with a smile, standing up and offering a hand to help Maysilee up, a hand she takes.

“You haven’t heard the way Asterid talks about him during sleep overs,” Maysilee retorts grinning, following Wyatt’s lead as he strips down to just his underwear, something he can swim in easily. 

She turns away as he neatly folds his clothes to lay on the grass, trying not to linger on the way his body had been sculpted by his work in the mines. She slips her dress off and kicks off her shoes, neatly folding them and placing them next to Wyatt’s pile and carefully unclips and places down her necklaces. 

She follows him to the lake and welcomes the cool water on her feet, “I guess I’ll start with floating,” He says. 

Once they’re in the water time seems to pass quickly as Wyatt walks her through the basics of swimming. And by the time they leave the water to let the dry air and blazing sun dry them off Maysilee is confident enough that if she found herself in water she wouldn’t drown.

The group heads back as the sky begins to burn orange with the setting sun and once they return to the district Wyatt breaks off with a wave, walking in the opposite direction to Burdock and Asterid’s place. The three that continue walking together stay silent as the streets get darker, Maysilee fiddles with her still slightly damp hair as a small smile sits on her face. But she is snapped out of her daze as Asterid nudges her, a wide grin on her face. 

“Are you glad you came with now?” she asks, smugness barely suppressed. 

“Shut up,” Maysilee grumbles, feeling her ears begin to burn under her hair, her pace speeding up as they arrive at her friend’s home, waving goodbye without looking back, “See you later,” she calls, ignoring the couples echoing laughs that follow her. 

— —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- 

A few days pass and she finds herself at Asterid’s apothecary, helping her crush fresh herbs Burdock gathered for her and then sorting them. The small room is thick with comfortable silence and the summer heat that continues to scorch the District. 

She places a now full jar back on the shelf and grabs another bundle to crush with the mortar and pestle clearing her throat in a way she hopes seems casual but knows doesn’t.

“Are you and Burdock planning to head back to the lake any time soon,” Maysilee asks, keeping her eyes on her hands as she methodically crushes the plants. 

“We were thinking of heading back on Sunday,” Asterid replies, trying to keep her tone even but she can’t fight the amusement.

“Oh, do you know if Wyatt is planning on joining you?” Maysilee asks, ignoring the grin on her friend's face she spots out of the corner of her eye.

Asterid hums in feigned thought, “I believe he is,” She eventually says. Maysilee nods nonchalantly, ignoring the jump in her heart rate at the news. She hadn’t seen Wyatt since the day at the lake and if she had just happened to be out an about as the shifts ended in the mines with the small hope of spotting him in the crowd no one had to know, it hadn’t worked anyway, not once had she even spotted his dark hair or his scrip coin running over his fingers or anything. “Would you like to join us too?” Asterid asks a few minutes later, the question causing Maysilee to jump as she was snapped out of her train of thoughts.

“Yes,” she answers quickly, too quickly if the satisfied smile on Asterid’s face is anything to go by, “Just to make sure Wyatt isn’t playing third wheel to you and Burdock.” She tacks on. 

“Of course.” 

Maysilee leaves the apothecary to head home a few minutes later, a distracted wave to her best friend’s goodbyes as she steps into the long shadows of late afternoon. She does technically have a shift at the sweet shop that Sunday, but as she returns home, taking the stairs up to her family's apartment quickly and racing to her and Merrilee’s room, she’s confident she can beg her sister into taking the shift. 

“Merri!” Maysilee calls out as she enters their bedroom, startling her sister who is on her bed sat reading a book she knows her sister had read several times before, “I need you to cover my Sunday shift.” she asks.

“What?” Merrilee sputters out.

“I’ll even cover your shift on Saturday, we can swap,” Maysilee continues, sitting herself on the edge of Merrilee’s bed, nudging the book her sister had dropped onto her quilt so she wouldn't sit on it. 

“What? You hate working Saturdays,” Merrilee questions, and her sister was right, Saturdays were always the busiest and longest days in the Sweet Shop. Every Saturday it seemed the whole of District 12 would come through the doors, ‘a nice treat for the end of the week’ was a phrase every other customer seemed to utter to her as she stiffly smiled and bagged up their sickly sweets. But, somehow, she found herself desperate enough to work one, “What are you doing that you need Sunday free anyway?”

“Asterid invited me back to the lake,” Maysilee answers simply.

“And you're that desperate to third wheel Asterid and Burdock?” Merrilee asks, confused. 

“It won’t just be them,” Maysilee explains as she raises from her sister's bed, keeping her face turned away from her twin as she slowly unclips the necklaces that hang around her neck, hanging them gently on the small stand that sits on their shared vanity, “A friend of Burdock’s will be there, it’s not like I’ll be stuck with just them.”

“Ahhhh!” Merrilee exclaims quietly, like pieces Maysilee can’t see are falling into place for her, she hums thoughtfully, for long enough that Maysilee turns around again and stares her twin down, “Fine, we can swap shifts,” Merrilee finally answers, sending her a sweet smile, a smile only Maysilee can see right through to the teasing, “But, you’ll need to fill me in on everything afterwards, ok?”

“Ok.”

The days passed slowly, switching between being stuck behind the Sweet Shops counter, the pastel apron tied over her dress and digging the chains of her necklaces into the base of her neck, and helping Asterid in the apothecary, trying to keep any questions she had about Wyatt to herself. She could already tell her best friend was beginning to think she might be feeling a little more than curiosity of a new acquaintance or even a budding friendship and she was unwilling to give any credit to the absurd idea, even if it meant she had to bite her tongue more times than she would like to admit. 

Her Saturday shift dragged as much as she feared it would but every time she wondered if she could convince her twin to swap back she would remember the trip to the lake and she’d decide to suck it up. 

“Hey Maysilee,” Wyatt greets as Maysilee arrives at the Districts border fence, she startles as he calls her name, she’d hummed and hawed so much over what undergarments she should wear under her floral dress, they had to be nice enough for her to swim in, which left her options slim as before the week before she’d never even swam, that she knew she was running late and figured she would just be meeting Asterid, Burdock and Wyatt at the lakes shore. 

“Wyatt,” She says, fiddling the towel she has hanging over her shoulder as she watches him rise from where he’s been sitting underneath the same tree he’d been waiting at the week before, “Are Asterid and Burdock not here yet? I thought I was running late.”

“You are,” Wyatt responds with no hint of annoyance in his voice, he’s just simply stating a fact, he grabs his own towel and meets her where she’s still standing, “They’re already at the lake, but you’ve only been there once, getting lost wouldn’t be fun,” He explains with a small smile.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, I wouldn’t have gotten lost, probably,” Maysilee replies, muttering the last word to herself as she slips under the fence, waiting as Wyatt follows behind her. 

“It’s not a big deal, I was the one who offered to stay behind and wait for you,” Wyatt admits, he’s walking in front of Maysilee, leading the way in through the narrow beginning of the path before it widens enough for two people to stand side by side so she can’t make out his face but she thinks the tips of his ears are redder than they had been just the minute before. 

“Oh,” Maysilee breathes, “Thank you.”

The rest of the walk to the lake is quiet between them but it's comfortable in a way that silences with other people rarely are for Maysilee. Most people in District 12 view Maysilee in a certain way, a way she is well aware of, they think she’s cruel, haughty and full of herself, an image she, admittedly, does little to disprove, but when she’s around everyone but a select few the weight of their opinions of her hangs uncomfortably over them and in the quiet between them in a way that can only be suffocating. 

They arrive at the lake, the view just as beautiful as it had been before, but this time her eyes stray away from the landscape in front of her and linger on Wyatt drinking it in beside her, turning to look for Asterid by the pier when Wyatt’s eyes shift to her. 

“Asterid!” Maysilee calls out as she spots her friend sitting on the end of the pier, watching a spot further into the depths of the lake that must be Burdock swimming around. 

“Maysilee!” Asterid replies with a smile, gesturing for her to join her where she sits, “I see you eventually showed up,” She continues with a teasing grin as Maysilee drops down beside her.

“Lost track of time,” Maysilee lied. She'd actually been well aware of the time and had been stressing embarrassingly about it. But for some reason deciding what to wear had been more of a challenge than ever before, she never cared what people thought of how she dressed, she could say plenty about those people and their own fashion choices. But the thought of wearing something ugly had left her strangely nauseous. “Was there any reason Wyatt waited for me at the fence?” Maysilee asks, lowering her voice as she turns her head slightly, spotting Wyatt back at the shore, taking off his clothes and folding them the same way he had last time. 

“He offered, that’s all,” Asterid says, following Maysilee’s gaze and then looking back at her friend with a raised eyebrow, ‘Why? I thought you liked him?”

“What?!” Maysilee hissed, “I don’t like him-”

“As a friend,” Asterid cuts in, “Jeez. But seriously, did something happen?” She asks, concern falling over her expression.

“No, no, he’s… great,” Maysilee fiddles with her grandmother's pendant as she thinks, “I’m just not used to someone liking me so quickly.”

Asterid smiles softly and opens her mouth to say something but before she can, footsteps near them on the pier interrupt them and they turn around to find Wyatt walking up to them, one hand shielding his eyes from the bright summer sun. 

“Wyatt,” Asterid greets, “Thank you for getting Mays here.”

“Oh, it was no problem,” Wyatt assures, looking at Maysilee as he says it, “Are you planning to swim today?” Wyatt asks her. 

“Oh,” Maysilee stutters, dragging her eyes away from his body and focusing on his face, “Maybe,” She shrugs in a way she hopes reads calmer than she is, also hoping Asterid can’t read on her face just how much effort she put into her outfit just so she could swim. 

“Okay,” he nods, “Well let me know if you need more lessons.”

“Yeah,” She replies, watching as he jumps into the lake, a fine mist splashing onto the two still sitting on the pier. Maysilee hears Asterid mutter something under her breath but when she turns to her friend, dragging her attention away from Wyatt who is making his way through the water to Burdock who is floating on his back. “What?” She asks her friend, who just shakes her head amusedly. 

As Burdock and Wyatt swim in the deeper water Asterid and Maysilee leave the edge of the pier to walk along the edge of the lake until Burdock makes his way back to the shore, shaking his head like a wet dog, Asterid laughing and Maysilee grumbling as water droplets fall on them. The three of them sit on the grass as Wyatt continues to swim, floating like Burdock had been earlier but closer to the shore then the other, close enough that Maysilee can see as his head turns, following the mockingjays that fly overhead. Ever since Maysilee had learnt how mockingjays were created she had disliked the bird, something the gold pin that had been stuffed in the bottom of her drawer for years could attest too, their calls reminding her of nothing but the control Capitol held over her and her District. But as Wyatt’s fascinated gaze stays on the birds she wonders if she could learn to see them in a different light. 

“Are you going to join him?” Burdock asks from beside Asterid, letting the sun dry his skin and hair. 

“What?” She asks, startled that Burdock was the one to suggest it, more expecting Asterid, who sits between them smirking to herself as she watches the conversation, to be the one to push her to swim. 

Burdock shrugs, plucking some strands of grass absentmindedly, “He’s been asking about you at work,” He says casually, like the one sentence hadn’t made her heart rate spike, “He seemed to enjoy spending time with you, figured I’d be a good friend.”

“To which one of us?” Maysilee asks, turning back to the lake. 

“Can’t it be for both of you?” He responds, she can hear the smile in his voice. 

She shakes her head but rises to her feet, kicking off her shoes, slipping off her dress and folding it and taking off her grandmother’s necklace to lay it on top. 

She ignores the couple’s laugh behind her as she steps into the water, it's cold but welcoming compared to the summer heat and she slowly makes her way towards Wyatt, she’s confident enough she wouldn’t drown but that doesn't mean she’s particularly fast. 

“Is the offer for more lessons still available?” She asks, hiding her smile as his eyes widen and he splashes around so he ends up upright and facing her.

“Of course,” he says, wiping a hand over his face to chase away the stray droplets.

Time passes quickly again once she’s in the water with Wyatt and it feels like barely any time at all had passed by the time Wyatt suggested they dry off, but the sun had found itself heading towards the horizon. She grabs her towel and begins drying herself, grabbing Wyatt’s and passing it back to him.

“Burdock and I are going to head home,” Asterid says as she joins Maysilee and Wyatt on the very edge of the lake, Burdock trailing behind her, their hands linked between them, “Will you be ok getting back?”

“We’ll be fine,” Maysilee assures, squeezing the excess water out of her hair, “Won’t we Wyatt?”

“Yeah, we’ll be ok,” Wyatt agrees easily, towel around his shoulders to catch the dripping of his own hair. 

Asterid nods and begins to make her way back up the path, Burdock calling out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, man,” to Wyatt as he is pulled along by his girlfriend. 

When Maysilee turns back to Wyatt she laughs at the drenched ring on the towel created by the water dripping out of his hair, “How can your hair hold so much water?” She asks, unconsciously reaching over and flicking a piece that stuck out to the side, not as weighed down by water as the rest. 

Wyatt copies her and raises a hand to his still soaked hair before a mischievous smile breaks out on his face and before Maysilee can figure out what he’s going to do he’s already shaking his head, droplets spraying onto her as she shrieks. She expects to feel annoyed at him, the same way she had when Burdock had done the same thing, especially as she’d just managed to dry the majority of herself before he did it, but instead she just laughs, backing away from him and back to her clothes as she sees Wyatt’s grin turn from mischievous to sincere before he laughs as well. It’s the first time she’d heard him laugh, properly laugh not just chuckle quietly to himself, and she feels heat rush to her cheeks as she turns away, it’s a nice sound. 

They sit in the sun to dry, their towels they sit on less than a foot apart from one another as they talk casually. First about their respective jobs, and as they talk Maysilee finally figures out why she never spotted him in the crowds of miners leaving for the day, “I like to take the longer path,” He says, coin back in his hand, “It takes me around the edge of town, I end up home later then my brothers but after being stuck in the mines all day I need time alone.”

“I need the same,” Maysilee says, mentally crossing off the need to be walking around District 12 when the miners get off, what’s the point if she’s not even going to spot Wyatt? “Whether it’s after working at the shop or with Asterid in the apothecary I need my alone time.”

They talk more about their families, only briefly mentioning their parents before they talk about their siblings, Maysilee with Merrilee and some stories with Asterid intertwined, impossible to completely separate the three of them with how long they’d been friends, Maysilee wasn’t sure she could think of a time before Asterid had come in to their lives. 

And Wyatt with his own stories about his older brothers Kennedy and Bryn, both years older than him leaving him the baby of his own family, but both protective and guiding figures to Wyatt in their own ways. 

Maysilee wonders if she’ll ever meet the two of them as Wyatt retells how Kennedy had broken his arm when he’d been a teenager and how he’d tried, and failed, to hide it from their parents. But as she laughs and turns her gaze back to the lake she realises just how much the sun had continued to set since Asterid and Burdock had left.

“We should probably head back,” Maysilee says as Wyatt trails off, nodding towards the sun that’s dangerously close to being considered setting. 

“Right, yeah, we probably should,” Wyatt agrees, rising to his feet and holding a hand out to help Maysilee up, they gather their things quickly, slipping on their shoes, having already put their clothes back on as they had talked, and begin making their way back up the path. The quiet is again comfortable but a question that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue since Wyatt had taken her hands to help her swim bursts that bubble. 

“Are you busy next Saturday?” She inquires, tone forcefully casual as she brushes a hand over a bush dotted with colourful flowers. 

Wyatt pauses beside her for a second before he shakes his head as he responds, “No I’m not, why’s that?”

“I was thinking we could come back, just the two of us?” Maysilee asks, eyes darting to Wyatt and then away, nerves keeping her from being able to look him in the eyes as she invites him, “I could bring a picnic for lunch, and you can make sure I won’t drown when I go swimming again.”

“You wouldn’t drown, you’re a quick learner,” Wyatt answers after a second, voice a little breathless, and Maysilee’s stomach drops with worry she’d been rejected, but Wyatt continues before Maysilee can actually spiral, “But I’d love to.”

“Cool,” Mayslee breathes out, relief flooding through her at the same time she sees the fence bordering District 12. They slip through the fence one after another but as they stand on the District side of the fence they linger. 

“I, I’m heading that way,” Wyatt says awkwardly, nodding in the direction he’d walked the week before, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts as he swayed a little, like he wasn’t sure if he should begin walking or stay standing where he was, “I’ll see you Saturday?”

“See you then,” Maysilee affirms with a nod, hiding a smile as Wyatt nods back and then begins heading home. The smile stays on her face as she weaves her own way back home through the streets of 12, even with the knowledge that her mother is sure to be waiting behind the door, tapping her foot just waiting to reprimand her for being late home, and the fact she didn’t ask Wyatt what kind of food he liked and she’d have to drag Burdock, and Asterid by association, into her plans. 

— —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- 

“Burdock,” Maysilee begins, turning to her friend's boyfriend as Asterid takes over stirring. It’s already Wednesday and Maysilee hadn’t had a chance to see Burdock in the days since and the worry of not knowing what food Wyatt likes had been growing as Saturday creeped closer. The three of them are outside behind the apothecary, Maysilee and Asterid working on a balm that required the ingredients to be boiled and stirred for nearly an hour, and with the summer heat invading the inside of the apothecary it was easily decided that they would do it outside where the heat wouldn’t continue to build within the walls of the small room, and they continued switching back and forth to keep them from passing out. “Do you know what food Wyatt does and doesn’t like?” 

“Um…” Burdock stutters, clearly caught off guard, and Asterid by the large pot turns to them with a raised brow. “I’m not sure?” Burdock continues, head tilted as he thinks, “I don’t think he’s mentioned any specifics but he did mention once he’d never been a picky eater, so I’d say anything goes? Why do you ask anyway?” He finally questions. 

“I..” Maysilee trails off, feeling strangely self conscious under the couples gazes, pulling at her dress before she clears her throat and continues, “I asked Wyatt to join me at the lake on Saturday after the two of you left, and I told him I’d bring food for a picnic but I forgot to ask him what he liked.”

Maysilee rolls her eyes as the wide grin that spreads across Asterid’s face, “You’re welcome for dragging you along,” Asterid sing songs, laughing as Maysilee grumbles and pushes her away from the pot she’d been stirring, taking her place as Asterid sits beside Burdock whose brow is furrowed in thought.

“Wait, on Saturday?” Burdock questions once Asterid’s laughter has tapered off. 

“Yeah?” Maysilee confirms. 

“It’s just,” Burdock begins, leaning into wear Asterid’s shoulder presses against his, despite the heat of the day lingering into the late afternoon, “The Booker Boys do a lot of their gambling stuff on Saturdays down at the Hob, and I know the Callows, and Wyatt especially, are a big part of it.”

Maysilee feels her cheeks burn at the implication that Wyatt purposefully blew off his usual weekend plans to spend time with her, especially as she’d done something so similar just the week before to get Merrilee to cover her Sunday shift so she could visit the lake and see Wyatt again. And the fact he barely even paused when denying that he was busy that day, before Maysilee had even suggested plans… 

Maysilee shifted the stool she was sitting on closer to the pot she was stirring, hoping the red of her cheeks could be mistaken as being caused by the heat of the boiling ingredients instead of her own flustered state. 

“Maybe they aren't doing it this weekend,” Maysilee eventually says outloud, trying to sound like a reasonable explanation, “And that’s why he’s free.”

She tilts her head down, letting the hair she’d been brushing off of her neck and behind her shoulders all day because of the heat, fall down past her shoulders and curtain her face to hide her smile. She misses the disbelieving look Asterid and Burdock share as her eyes stay locked on the bubbling liquid she continues to stir. 

— —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- 

She packs the picnic basket she found in the back of her family's small storage closet, a basket she hadn’t seen be used since her grandmother passed, with care she rarely gave to something, ultimately, so small. But the need to both pass the time until it’s no longer too early to make her way to the lake and quell the anxiety of packing food Wyatt wouldn’t like keeps her placing wrapped food in gently and rearranging everything several times. 

She ended up deciding on sandwiches, something she figured was a safe choice, some fruit that her Papa had told her she was free to eat before it went bad and some water as well as some sweets she thought Wyatt might like, ones she took with Merrilee’s help. Which she paid for with an in detail explanation of Wyatt and what he’s like as she had made the sandwiches and her sister had sat nearby, their parents out for the day and unable to overhear her scandalous friendship with not only a boy from the Seam but the son of a Booker Boy. 

Once the basket is finally stacked to her liking she runs a hand over her dress, a nice yellow one without any sleeves to help beat the summer heat, straightening out any errant wrinkles in its fabric, and then brushes a hand through her hair making sure there’s no flyaways before she grabs the basket and turns around, pausing at the sight of her father in the doorway. 

“Papa,” she greets, “Is everything ok?”

“Fine, who are you meeting?” He asks, gesturing to the basket of food. 

Her eyes flicker to the basket in her hand like she’d forgotten what she was holding before looking back to her father with a sweet smile, “Oh just Asterid, I thought we’d have lunch together.” She lies easily, expression not wavering at all. 

“Ok, what time are you getting home then?” Her father questions further, but steps to the side and allows her to walk into the living room and towards the front door. 

“I’m not sure Papa, it depends,” Maysilee answers, stepping into her shoes. 

“Be back before ten, ok?” her father says, “You work tomorrow, and I need you in your best spirits, not falling asleep behind the counter.”

Maysilee bites back a ‘I’ll never be in my best spirits behind that counter’ knowing her Papa has heard her complaints about working in their families business and long since having gotten sick of them, instead she smiles and nods, “Of course Papa, love you!” She calls out as she slips out of the door, hearing her father repeat back the words as she walks down the stairs. 

The walk to the gap in the fence passes quickly now that she knows where exactly she is heading but she keeps having to move the basket from one hand to the other as she walks, her hands becoming too sweaty to keep a proper hold on it, but the sweat doesn’t come from the heat of the late summer day. 

When she arrives at the fence she finds Wyatt under the tree, but this time he’s lying in the grass that covers the roots of the tree he’s under, a hat over his eyes and his arms crossed over his torso, he looks so still Maysilee wonders if he’d been there long enough to fall asleep. But as she makes her way closer to him he lifts his hat off of his eyes and sits up, sending her a small smile. 

“Did I wake you?” She teases with a small smile as he stands up. 

“It’s too bright to sleep out here,” Wyatt responds sincerely, causing Maysilee’s grin to widen further. He puts his hat back on, covering the way some of his hair has been left sticking up from laying down, before he reaches over and grabs the basket from her without a word, their hands brushing as he grabs the handle. 

“You didn’t have to wait here for me,” Maysilee says, trying to ignore the sparks under her skin from the brief contact, “You could’ve just headed straight to the lake.”

Wyatt shrugs, slipping through the fence and then holding it in place for Maysilee to do the same thing before he responds, “I didn’t want you to think I’d stood you up,” He states, “Plus, now I can help carry the basket.”

“Something else you didn’t have to do,” Maysilee retorts lightly, speeding ahead so he can’t see the soft smile on her face as she hears him chuckle. 

They eat the food Maysilee brought once they reach the lake, Wyatt humming appreciatively at everything he eats. They decide to swim before they dig into the sweets she’d pinched, though most of them were for Wyatt, after having been stuck around candy for the entirety of her life she could barely stomach most sweets. 

In the recent weeks she’d found she loved the feeling of freedom swimming brought her and she wished desperately she’d had the chance to learn earlier. But when Wyatt applauds jokingly, though a sincere smile shines on his face under the summer sun, as she successfully swims from the pier to where he treads water closer to the middle of the lake, she can’t find anything in herself but gratitude that Wyatt had been one to teach her. 

Maybe she should’ve just met him sooner, maybe in another life she did. 

The lake and the water are welcoming but eventually the skin on her hands begin to wrinkle and she heads back to the shore to dry off in the sun, Wyatt following a few moments later. She offers him the sweets, only stealing one of the salted caramels to suck on as Wyatt tries the few she’d brought, waving him away every time he offers to split it with her. 

The caramel has dissolved in her mouth, only the taste lingering, when she opens her mouth, “Y’know, Burdock mentioned something interesting to me this week,” She says. 

Wyatt hums around a candy, swallowing before he asks, “What did he say?”

“He told me that the Booker Boys, and your family, normally gamble at the Hob on Saturdays,” Maysilee says, plucking a small wild flower out of the ground and spinning the stem in between her fingers. 

“Oh,” Wyatt chokes out, turning away quickly so Maysilee can only see the back of his head, but not quick enough for her to not see his face rapidly turning red, “I.. He’s right, um.” Wyatt goes silent for a few minutes and Maysilee allows it as she continues to fiddle with the flower, eventually though Wyatt turns his head forward once more, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, a poor attempt to cover the blush that had made its way down his still exposed back, but the blush remains as he speaks again, “I might’ve told my family I wasn’t feeling well to get out of it.” 

Maysilee laughs at the answer, her own cheeks beginning to blush to match Wyatt’s, who groans loudly, covering his face with his hands, “No, no, don’t hide,” Maysilee says, voice light with suppressed giggles, she grabs one of his wrists to pull his hand off of his face, “I think it’s sweet, really,” She smiles wider as Wyatt finally, hesitantly, looks at her, “I don’t think anyone has ever tried so hard just to spend time with me.”

Wyatt’s expression falls a little before he smiles, sitting up straighter from where he’d hunched over himself in embarrassment, “Well, everyone else is just missing out,” He replies earnestly.

Maysilee blinks in surprise, wondering in the back of her mind if steam can be seen coming out of her ears from how hot her face feels. She shakes her head lightly as she says, “If it makes you feel better, I had to beg my sister to cover my shift last Sunday so I could visit the lake and see you again.” 

“I don’t think anyone has ever tried so hard just to spend time with me,” he parrots back after a moment, a smile causing his dimples to reappear on his flushed cheeks. 

“And clearly everyone else are idiots,” Maysilee states, “So your family is at the Hob right now?”

Wyatt blinks in surprise at the change in topic but takes it in stride, nodding as he answers, “Yeah, my brothers and father are there, the other Booker Boys too.”

“I’ve never been to the Hob before,” Maysilee mentions, trying and failing to sound casual. 

“It’s nothing interesting,” Wyatt responds, “Just dark and smokey and full of people you don’t want to talk to.”

“Don’t you spend time there?” 

“Proves my point.”

Maysilee shakes her head at the comment, sure Wyatt’s family might be Booker Boys but he himself is only an oddsmaker, a role he’d explained to her the week before and then proceeded to demonstrate by figuring out what the odds would be in hypothetical fights between any two random people she could think of. But even before she’d learnt more she couldn’t understand the animosity, sure betting on the Hunger Games was cruel but in District 12 you had to make money in any way you could if you wanted to survive the year, so how could anyone judge so harshly? But she also knows many of the Booker Boys are shunned by those around them, she’d remembered the comments during the 50th Games when Callahan had been reaped, so it wasn’t like Maysilee could outright deny Wyatt’s comment, even if to her, it is stupid. 

“Take me there?” Maysilee asks. 

“To the Hob?” Wyatt questions. 

“Yes to the Hob, come on I’ve never been and it’d be fun to watch you with your oddsmaking,” Maysilee says. 

“I can come up with odds for fights again if you want to see me work out odds,” Wyatt bargains, “We don’t have to go to the Hob.”

“Wyatt-”

“Maysilee,” Wyatt cuts off before she can continue, “The Hob is not a good place to go, it can even be dangerous for guys like me who are there often and work in the mines. But for someone like you? From the merchant side of town and you’ve never been before, it’s dangerous. And if you got hurt because you came with me..”

“Wyatt,” Maysilee soothes, “I trust you to keep an eye out for me and I’m not totally helpless myself, nor am I a child. I can go by myself if I want, but I’d prefer to be with you.” 

The two of them stare each other down for a long few moments, Wyatt’s eyes searching her face, seemingly realising just how serious, and stubborn, she is with this, his eyes linger on hers before he sighs and she knows she’s won. 

“Fine, we can go,” Wyatt agrees, but raises a hand before she can cheer or thank him or do anything to celebrate getting her own way, “But, you have to stay near me, ok? And if I think we should leave, we’re gone, ok?”

“Okay,” Maysilee agrees easily, would've done exactly that even if it hadn’t been a condition, “I promise, now let’s go.”

“What, now?” Wyatt asks, watching as Maysilee slips her dress back on, her necklaces already having been put back on once she’d been mostly dry. 

“Of course,” Maysilee answers, stepping into her shoes, “We’ll need to go drop the basket off first.”

“Ok, ok,” Wyatt accepts, rising to his feet and putting his own clothes back on. 

They head back to the District and slip through the fence but instead of heading in their separate directions Maysilee guides Wyatt into the heart of the merchant side of town, “Wait out here, I won’t be long,” Maysilee instructs once the reach the Sweet Shop before she slips into the store front. 

There are a few customers browsing the shelves but it’s relatively calm for a Saturday and Maysilee hurries up to her twin who stands behind the counter, expression twisting into confusion as she spots her. 

“Maysilee? Why are you in here?” Merrilee asks, it’s not unwarranted, if Maysilee isn’t actively working she tries to stay away from the store and with the staircase to their apartments front door being outside the building she normally succeeds. 

“Are Mama and Papa upstairs?” She asks without answering her twins question. 

“Uh, no, Papa said they’d be out until later,” Merrilee answers. 

“Good, I need to drop the basket off,” Maysilee says, “And then I’m heading back out, I didn't want them asking questions.”

“Oh?” Merrilee hums, she stretches onto her tip toes to look out of the front window, “Is that Wyatt?” She asks, spotting him fiddling with his scrip coin as he waits patiently for Maysilee. 

“Yes it is,” Maysilee answers quickly, already making her way back out to head up to the apartment, “I’ll give all the details later.”

“You better!” 

Maysilee drops the basket on the kitchen counter before rushing to her room, a quick hello to her canary Ana who stares her down judgingly from her cage before she quickly brushes through the part of her hair that wasn't braided away from her face. Checking the mirror and deeming that her hair looked good enough and that she’d left Wyatt alone for longer than intended she grabbed her coin purse, stuffing it in her dress’s pocket, and left the apartment, taking the stairs two at a time to end up back at his side quicker. 

“Lead the way,” Maysilee says, gesturing an arm in the direction she knows the Hob sits in, Wyatt smiles, pocketing his coin and beginning to walk. 

“Because my family is at the Hob, they’re going to try and drag me into their work and get me to figure out some odds,” Wyatt warns as they walk through the Seam. 

“That’s fine,” Maysilee hums, “It’ll be interesting to see you at work.”

“I’d hardly call it interesting,” Wyatt replies.

“Well it’ll be you doing it,” Maysilee says easily, “Automatically makes it interesting to me.”

The Hob looks strangely dark from the outside once they reach the building, many of the windows are blacked out and Maysilee can’t tell whether it's due to grime or on purpose. But the noise coming from inside dashes any doubt that it could be empty and abandoned. Wyatt pushes his way through an open door, reaching back to grab Maysilee’s wrist to keep her close through the crowd that has gathered near the entrance. The area is surprisingly well lit once Maysilee can finally see past the heads of patrons, with lights blazing along the walls, only flickering occasionally, and some closer to the bar and the small stage, making it obvious what the most attention should be paid too. The air is tinged with the smell of smoke and coal dust but barely more than she’s already used to living in District 12, you can’t even escape the smell of the belching mines on the merchant side of town, if anything it’s fresher then she thought it would be based purely off the outside of the building. 

She feels eyes on her as they walk but she pays them no mind, it’s hardly a shock anyway she’s sure her blonde hair sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the dark heads of hair around her. They head directly to the far corner, on the opposite side of the large room from the bar and door, closer to the stage where Maysilee can spot some instruments sitting in wait but with no performers in sight. She goes to ask Wyatt about who would be performing on stage but before she can another voice calls out to him. 

“Wyatt!” a man calls out, he weaves quickly away from the large group in the corner furthest from the door and the stage, Wyatt for his part pauses but doesn’t turn around. She looks over the stranger once she can see him past the people in the crowd, he has dark hair and dark eyes similar to Wyatt though he stands a little taller and leaner, but Maysilee can see the bulk of muscle from working in the mines on his arms, she figures he must be one of Wyatt’s relatives but, though he is definitely older, there’s no way he’s old enough to be Wyatt’s father, maybe one of his brothers? It seems she will meet Wyatt’s family after all. 

“Kennedy,” Wyatt greets with a blank face, having turned around to face his brother at some point, “What did you need.”

“Well I don’t need anything, though I’m sure dad will be wanting you to work out some odds for the boys considering you’re here,” Kennedy answers, eyes only briefly flickering to Maysilee and the hand Wyatt still has around her wrist before he focuses on his brother, “But I am wondering why you’re here at all considering you said you were sick this morning.”  

“Oh, well…” Wyatt begins before he tapers off trying to think of a reason why he is here. 

“I made him feel better,” Maysilee cuts in, suppressing an amused smile as both brothers turn to her with shocked expressions. 

But Kennedy gathers himself quickly, nodding in acceptance of her explanation with only some confusion in his eyes as he turns back to Wyatt, “Well whatever the reason is you should go help out the boys, you won’t be able to hide from dad.”

“I didn’t join you today for a reason Kennedy,” Wyatt shoots back, “It’s not even a big fight, they’ll be fine figuring it out themselves.”  

“You know dad’s not going to care about any of that,” Kennedy replies, “Would you prefer to help out or hear about it from him all week?”

“Wyatt,” Maysilee says before Wyatt can respond to his brother, using the hand that’s not already within his grip to hold his wrist in a way she hopes is comforting, “It’s fine if you need to help out for a bit, like I said I’d like to see you in action.”

Wyatt searches her eyes silently before sighing and nodding, “Fine, fine, I’ll help, but only quickly, ok?” Wyatt concedes. 

“Fine with me,” Kennedy agrees with a shrug, “I know you can work your magic quickly.” 

The three of them head to the corner Kennedy had left from, the corner Maysilee assumes the Booker Boys take up every weekend, but once they’re still a few feet away from the tables the majority of the crowd are gathered around Wyatt stops, Maysilee and Kennedy following suit, and lets go of her wrist, turning to her. 

“Just wait here, I’ll only be a few minutes,” Wyatt tell her, Maysilee wants to argue, say she can come closer and that a bunch of gamblers don’t scare her but she doesn’t doubt that Wyatt would just turn them around and walk them right out of the Hob, his fathers annoyance be damned. 

So she just nods easily, “Take as much time as you need.”

Wyatt nods, turning to Kennedy and whispering something to his brother that Maysilee can’t pick up over the din of the Hob before she watches as he makes his way to the table with the biggest crowd around it, ignoring as the men cheer at his arrival and just leaning to hear their chatter. 

“I’m Kennedy,” Kennedy introduces from where he’s stayed beside her, sticking his hand out for a hand shake, “One of Wyatt’s older brothers.”

“Wyatt’s told me about you and Bryn,” Maysilee says, shaking his hand, “And I’m Maysilee.”

“Donner, right?” Kennedy asks, humming as Maysilee nods in agreement. 

Maysilee’s eyes wander back to Wyatt as they stay silent, smiling to herself as she watches his face scrunch up in judging confusion at whatever the man next to him is saying before he turns back to the paper he is writing on frantically, so quickly Maysilee doubts his hand writing would be legible to most people. 

“He seems to be good at this,” Maysilee comments, nodding to where a man slaps Wyatt on the back in appreciation and he shifts uncomfortably away from the touch. 

“Oh yeah he’s great,” Kennedy agrees easily, “The Booker Boys have a lot of oddsmakers but Wyatt is by far the best one, something our father is endlessly proud of,” he continues, voice turning a little bitter at the end, but he shakes it off quickly, turning to Maysilee, “How did my brother meet someone like you anyway?” 

Maysilee wants to bristle at the ‘someone like you’ comment but the question seems sincere so instead she grins, “Burdock Everdeen,” She says, biting back a laugh at the confused expression on the man's face, she wonders if Wyatt’s ever mentioned his friend to his brothers. 

“I’m done,” Wyatt announces, returning from the tables, “Come, lets head to the bar,” Wyatt says to Maysilee, who deflates a little realising she’d missed most of Wyatt working, ignoring his brother who just grins. 

“Well thank you Wyatt,” Kennedy says, “and it was nice to meet you Miss Donner,” he continues, sending her a quick wave before he rejoins the Booker Boys properly. 

“He wasn’t bothering you, was he?” Wyatt asks, retaking her wrist in a loose grip as they head towards the bar.

“No, no,” Maysilee answers, falling into step beside Wyatt, “Actually before you showed up I was about to ask him for your most embarrassing childhood stories.”

Wyatt’s head snaps to her and Maysilee laughs lightly at the shocked and lightly betrayed expression on his face, but before she can reassure him she’s just messing with him she spots the stage over his shoulder and she remembers the question she hadn’t been able to ask. 

“Is anyone going to be performing on stage today?” She asks, nodding to the still lonely instruments. 

“Oh, yeah the Covey perform every weekend,” Wyatt answers, “They should be beginning soon.”

“They still perform?” Maysilee questions, she remembers when the Covey had performed semi frequently during different events on the merchant side of town but since Lenore Dove had died after the 50th Hunger Games a few years before she hadn’t seen them, and she wasn’t surprised. 

Wyatt clearly understands why she questions it as his expression falls, “They still have to make money.” They both fall silent, any talk of the Hunger Games always dimming any conversation in the District, but the 50th one in particular, and the series of deaths that followed, even with 12 finally getting a victor, were always spoken of with bowed heads and soft voices, “Lenore Dove was around your age, right?” Wyatt asks as they arrive at the bar, both of them taking a seat as they wait for the busy bartender to come up to them, “Were the two of you friends?”

“No, no,” Maysilee denies, “We definitely weren’t, we’re very different people. But I did respect her.” She adds, the memory of finding Lenore Dove with orange paint on her hands all those years ago still fresh in her mind, not that she’d ever told anyone, or likely ever would. 

“Burdock has told me a bit about her, and that sounds about right.” Wyatt reveals, “Burdock sometimes helps with the vocals,” He continues, clearly trying to steer the conversation into lighter topics.

“Really?!” Maysilee questions, already making plans to come to the Hob when Burdock will be singing, she’ll drag Asterid and Merrilee along, really sticking him in the spotlight. But she can’t find it in her to be too surprised, she knows from the tribute funerals she’s attended, though she’s only on the very edges since the 50th games, that he can sing and there must have been a reason he knew the Booker Boys spent their Saturdays at the Hob. 

Wyatt nods as the bartender finally comes up to them, “What do you two want?” the man asks. 

Maysilee pauses, she’s had alcohol before but she’d never been to somewhere with a bar so she wasn’t sure what she did want, “Something not sweet,” Maysilee answers, eyes flicking to Wyatt as she does. 

“You heard her,” Wyatt says to the bartender, “And I’ll have the same.” 

The bartender sighs but nods, grabbing two glasses and shuffling away for a second before he returns to slide two identical drinks across to them, Maysilee quickly passing over enough coins to cover the cost, ignoring Wyatt’s protests. 

The Covey begin to play on the stage as they down the drinks, the alcohol burning its way down her throat but she swallows it down. Time passes quickly with alcohol in her system and at some point as they linger by the bar a Booker Boy, one she doesn’t recognise nor introduce himself, comes to beg Wyatt for more help. Before Wyatt can deny the request Maysilee accepts it for him, once she knows it won’t take very long, and she smiles at Wyatt’s confused face. 

“I was talking to Kennedy so I didn’t get to see you work your magic before,” Maysilee explains as she drags Wyatt back to the Booker Boys corner, “Show me what you can do, oddsmaker.” 

Wyatt sighs but doesn’t try to argue and lets her stand over his shoulder as he scribbles out equations more complex then she remembers seeing in her last year of school, though it could be the alcohol dulling her average math skills further. 

The men also watching and waiting for Wyatt’s odds barely give her a second glance as she hovers and she lets Wyatt drag her away from the group as they cheer and thank him. 

“Would you like to dance?” Wyatt asks a while later, they're hovering back by the bar, just having finished their third or fourth drink. In the time since they’d first begun performing the Covey’s songs have drawn enough dancers that a small dance floor had been made by the moving bodies. 

The song is lively and bright and the dancers jump and twirl around their partners, though it doesn’t seem like any kind of choreographed performance and instead the patrons are just allowing their bodies to be moved by the music itself. 

“Sure,” Maysilee answers, barely pausing to let Wyatt place his empty glass on the bar top before she’s dragging him to the edge of the dance floor. She takes his two hands in hers and attempts to follow the people around them. 

The next few songs follow a similar tempo so by the time a slower song begins they’re breathless, but instead of finding a seat to collapse in she lets go of Wyatt’s hands and wraps them around his shoulders, the distance between their bodies nearly nonexistent especially as Wyatt follows her lead and place his hands on her waist. 

“Cool down song,” Maysilee explains even as Wyatt asks no questions, but feeling like she needs a reason as to why she chose to stay on the dance floor with him. 

“I know you didn’t want to bring me here,” Maysilee begins as the two of them mindlessly sway in circles, trying desperately to keep her gaze away from his lips and on his eyes, “But thank you for- shit.” Maysilee freezes as she spots a clock on the wall over Wyatt’s shoulder, a clock showing there’s barely 15 minutes until her Papa expects her home. 

“What, what is it?” Wyatt asks, letting go of her waist to twist around. 

“I didn’t realise how late it’s gotten,” She explains, mentally trying to figure out how long the walk from the sweet shop to the Hob had been earlier and despairing, “My Papa expects me back home in 15 and it takes longer than that.”

“Oh,” Wyatt breathes, immediately grabbing hold of her wrist to force his way out of the building, turning back to her once the fresh air hits them, “I know a short cut that should get you home in time if you trust me.”

“Of course,” Maysilee answers without a pause, “Show the way.”

The walk back is quiet as they both hurry their way down back roads that carve the border of town, Maysilee wonders in the back of her mind if this is the trail Wyatt uses to walk home or if he just knows the streets better then she does. The sun has set by now, leaving the air cooler but still far from cold, but Maysilee can still see a lighter ring along the western horizon where the sun had slipped under, that and the few street lights that dot nearby roads leave enough light for them to walk by, though Wyatt’s hand still stays around her wrist. 

The roads become familiar to Maysilee and not a minute later the Sweet Shop comes into view, with time still to spare before she would be considered late, the store front is dark and locked up but she can spot lights on up in her family's apartment. 

“Thank you Wyatt,” Maysilee says, turning to him as he lets go of her arm, “For getting me home and for today, I had a good time.”

“So did I,” Wyatt agrees, “And you don’t need to thank me, I’m glad I could help you.”

“We’ll need to do this again,” Maysilee says, and before he can respond and she can chicken out she steps up and kisses him on the cheek lightly, turning quickly and heading up the stairs before she can see his reaction, “Good night!” She calls out, slipping through the apartment's front door. 

She finds her Papa sitting on one of their old couches as she closes the door behind her, his eyes snapping to her from where they’d been reading a book. 

“It’s pretty late Maysilee,” He says casually, noting the dark sky outside the window across from him. 

“But I’m not late,” She replies, eyes glancing over to the clock on the mantle to see it just click over to ten, “Good night Papa,” she says as she heads to her bedroom, already imagining the grilling Merrilee will give her. 

— —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- 

The time they spend together continues, every weekend they see each other, whether it’s at the lake, Wyatt always waiting for her at the Districts boundary fence, or at the Hob, dancing to the Covey’s music, Maysilee watching Wyatt work. Sometimes they’re a part of a group, Asterid and Burdock joining them at the lake, and then eventually the Hob once Maysilee admits to her friend she’d convinced Wyatt to take her. Subsequently Merrilee and Blair, who Maysilee had only met a few times through Burdock but slipped into the group easily, began to join when they could, and Merrilee got along with Wyatt well, though Maysilee never had any doubt her social butterfly of a sister would get on with the man. 

But, more often than not, it was just the two of them, the others busy when they weren’t. 

During her second visit to the Hob she finally met Wyatt’s oldest brother, meeting Bryn as Wyatt worked and she hovered behind him. 

“Miss Donner,” Kennedy called out to her, a nickname he’d continued to call her, she looked over to the man, noticing another man beside him though she can’t make out any of his features with the glass he is drinking from covering his face, “C’mere,” Kennedy asks. 

Maysilee blinks, confused, but she saw no reason not to, he was barely a few feet away, so she patted Wyatt lightly on the shoulder, just to let him know she wouldn’t be lingering directly over his him. 

“Yes?” She asked with a raised brow, sending a judgy look to the man still somehow guzzling his drink, “What did you need?”

“I figured you’d want to meet the family before, ya know,” Kennedy begins, turning to the man beside him, sighing as he stole the glass from his hand, Maysilee herself is confused by the comment, before what?, but before she could ask Kennedy continued talking, “This drunk is Bryn, Wyatt’s and I’s older brother.” 

“Oh,” Maysilee mutters, she hadn’t lied when she told Kennedy Wyatt had told her about his brothers and he had mentioned just how much Bryn drank, having lost his best friend to the Hunger Games when he was a teenager it pushed him to alcohol to cope, and Maysilee could see the toll it had taken on his body especially as he stood beside Kennedy. She wonders briefly if this is what Haymitch Abernathy would look like in a decade's time, she’d already seen how his curls had flattened and his skin had paled as he hid himself away most of the year, only a bottle to keep him company. 

“Bryn, this is Maysilee,” Kennedy introduces, “Remember the friend Wyatt’s been telling us about?”

“Right..” Bryn answers, his eyes focusing on her for a second, before he takes a step forward, arms open like he’s about to hug her. But before he can a familiar hand falls on her shoulder and pulls her back a step at the same time Kennedy grabs the collar of Bryn’s shirt and pulls him back like he’s holding a kitten by the scruff. Maysilee turns her head to find Wyatt by her side, a small frown etched on his face as he looks at his brothers. 

Bryn, however, seems unphased and simply blinks, nodding at Maysilee, “It’s good to meet you, Wy’s talked about you a lot,” He slurs, oblivious to the way Wyatt bites his tongue beside her. 

Maysilee smirks as she responds, “It’s good to meet you too.”

Kennedy shoves the glass he’d confiscated back into his brother’s hands, pushing him in the opposite direction, supposedly where he’d been hiding most of the night, before he smiles apologetically to Maysilee, “Sorry about him,” he says, "There's bad days and worse days, hopefully he’ll remember you.” He adds before shrugging and following behind Bryn’s stumbling steps. 

“He won’t, remember you, that is. Today’s a worse day,”  Wyatt states from beside her, sending her a strained smile before he directs her back. 

In the end Wyatt had been right and when she returned to the Hob the next week at Wyatt’s side Bryn had come up to her, a drink in hand but it remained mostly full, his steps were sure under him and his eyes clearer as he’d reintroduced himself, admitting surprisingly sheepishly for a 30 year old man that he’d been told about their failed introduction from the week before and offered a proper one. And as he grinned trying to ruffle Wyatt’s hair she’d finally seen the resemblance between Bryn and his younger brothers. 

That same day she’d also formerly met Wyatt’s father, though she’d seen him in the crowds of the Booker Boys Wyatt had made an effort to keep the both of them away from him as they’d spent time in the Hob. This time though Wyatt’s father called out to him specifically as he went to walk away from the Booker Boys, his odds making already done, and Maysilee had followed him as he’d answered to the beckoning. 

“Dad,” Wyatt reluctantly greets. 

“You already finished with the odds boy?” Jethro Callow asks, not looking up from the stack of cards he’s shuffling through. 

“I have,” Wyatt answers, “You know I’m quick.”

“You are,” Jethro agrees, “But until a few weeks ago you’d spend quite a bit more time with ‘em, you better not be giving any shoddy numbers.”

“They’ve all been good, you can ask,” Wyatt sighs, sending Maysilee an apologetic look. 

Jethro grunts and finally looks up at his son, eyes catching on Maysilee beside him, “And who’s this?”

“Maysilee Donner,” Maysilee introduces, sticking out a hand expecting a handshake like Kennedy had given her. But instead the man looks her up and down, eying the dark pants and yellow shirt and the necklaces that hang around her neck she’s wearing, the summer weather now slipping in to fall allowing her to wear her thicker clothing without sweating right through, and the obvious good make of it all. He grunts and turns back to his cards, shuffling them again, almost in a similar way to how Wyatt fiddles with his coin, and Wyatt turns her away, leaving the crowd of men behind. 

“Sorry,” Wyatt apologises, continuing before Maysilee can ask what he’s on about, “I didn’t really want you to meet him, not like that at least."

“Hey, what’s done is done,” Maysilee replies easily, besides she was far from unused to people reacting poorly when they first met her, her reputation preceded her most of the time. But she held back on voicing that out loud, having the feeling it would likely just make Wyatt more upset, something she did not want. 

The summer temperatures fall away quickly and by the first week of October they decide it’s too cold to swim in the lake until the weather begins to warm again in a few months time. Maysilee sits with her knees to her chest and wraps her towel around herself tightly, shuffling closer to Wyatt who does the same thing as, despite the sun being out today, the wind is cold and bitter against her wet skin. 

“I’ll miss swimming,” Maysilee admits, “I enjoy it more than I thought I would.”

“The months will pass quickly,” Wyatt replies, “And we can still visit the lake together, I think you’ll enjoy the view during the winter when it's snowing.” 

Maysilee hides her smile behind her towel as she wipes some drops of water off of her forehead, it’s a simple comment but the confirmation that Wyatt also sees them continuing to spend time together sets her heart racing. 

“Hopefully I’ll still remember how to swim by next spring,” Maysilee jokes, laying her forearms on top of her knees and her cheek on top of them so she’s facing Wyatt beside her. 

“I’ll teach you again if you need,” Wyatt responds, tone completely sincere but he sends her a cheeky smile as she laughs. 

The light from the entrance to the Hob spills out into the dark night, lighting the path for every poor soul that stumbled out. Maysilee and Wyatt’s could currently be counted among those souls. 

She forcefully righted herself under the weight of the man she was trying to keep propped up. She wasn’t completely sober, about a drink and a half in her, but compared to Wyatt anyone would be convinced she’d never touched a drop. 

Wyatt himself had told her he’d had a rough week in the mines, something she’d also heard from Burdock, apparently their sector had fallen a bit behind target after a few of them had been injured in a cave in and to make up for it they’d been pushed beyond their limits. Wyatt had explained this to her before subsequently downing his entire drink in a solid 4 seconds. And he continued to do this for the rest of the night until he’d risen from his chair and nearly fallen flat on his face, he would have in fact if Kennedy hadn’t been nearby to catch and steady him. 

So now the two of them left the Hob, earlier then they normally did but Wyatt certainly drunker then she had ever seen him. She’d only just been able to convince Kennedy that she would be alright to help Wyatt home and he should stay to keep an eye on Bryn who was in the midst of one of his worse days, barely even having blinked as she’d greeted him earlier. 

But now Maysilee was starting to doubt her ability, just a little, “Work with me Wyatt,” She muttered, mostly to herself as she shuffled closer to her friend in the hopes he’d naturally straighten up, but instead his feet shuffled at the same time so he stayed leaning against her, one arm around her shoulders, his face nearly in the crook of her neck. 

“Come on Wyatt,” She jostled her shoulder to get him to lift his head, “You said you could show me the way to your home.”

She hears him mumble but it's incoherent before he tries to duck his head back to her neck. 

“No, no,” she says, moving her hands from where one holds one of his arms over her shoulders and the other holds his waist to instead hold his cheeks and make him look at her, “You need to help me by standing a little straighter and giving me proper directions, ok? Or otherwise I’m going to have to head back in there to get Kennedy to take you home, ok?”

“Ok,” he replies, voice a little muffled from where she’s squishing his cheeks. But he does stand up a little straighter and when she pulls his arm back over her he doesn’t fall straight back into her. 

“Ok oddsmaker,” she says, feeling a little more confident, “Show me the way.”  

The walk takes quite a while, as even though Wyatt is actually trying now Maysilee still has to hold up the majority of his body weight. But eventually they turn down another street, something that takes an embarrassingly long time as Wyatt’s feet twist under him, and Wyatt lifts his head and lights up, pointing to a house about two blocks down. 

“Hey, that’s where I live,” Wyatt cheers, his voice slurring over the words, Maysilee hushes him to be quiet, well aware that in the time it had taken them to stumble half way across town most of 12 would be asleep, and she doesn’t feel like having to talk down some angry half asleep people and keep Wyatt on his feet and not flat on his face. 

“Good,” She sighs to herself once Wyatt’s arm had fallen from where he’d been pointing ahead and he seems to have died back down to his usual volume, she had been more than a little worried that in his drunk state Wyatt had been leading them in the wrong direction. She had begun thinking of alternate ideas if they hadn’t been able to find Wyatt’s place, she could’ve eventually got him back to her own home but if her parents had found a drunk Seam boy sleeping in the apartment there’s no doubt they would have killed her, the only other option she could think of was to just spend the night outside, though that would’ve just been another reason to kill her. 

“Alright,” Maysilee said quietly once they reached the front door of the house Wyatt had pointed at, “Where’s your key?” She knows Wyatt’s mum is inside, not one to like the crowds of the Hob like the rest of her family, but with the way the windows are dark like the rest of the houses on the street Maysilee assumes she’s asleep, and she’d hate to wake the woman up as their first ever meeting. 

“Umm…” Wyatt hums, slapping at each of his pockets one by one, “I don’t think I have it.” He eventually mumbles. 

“What?!” Maysilee hisses. 

“I think I left it with my work stuff,” He replies. 

“And where would your work stuff be?” She asks slowly, but her stomach is already sinking having guessed where. 

“In there,” Wyatt predictably answers, pointing at his front door. 

Maysilee sighs, rubbing her face with her one free hand as she thinks of what to do. They could always wait for Kennedy, Bryn and Mr Callow to come home so that Wyatt can be let in but Maysilee has no idea how long they intended to stay at the Hob tonight and she can just imagine both Wyatt and herself falling asleep waiting. And she’s not sure she’d be able to recover from the embarrassment of waking up to the three of them as she sits in front of their door. 

Her thoughts continue spiraling, maybe she could get Wyatt to her place and hide him?, but before she can decide she hears movement on the other side of the door and it unlatching before a woman she’s never met before pulls it open. 

She stands about half a head shorter than Maysilee with a soft face, though the smile lines and the wrinkles on her forehead show the years she has lived, in the low light Maysilee can spot a few streaks of grey in her dark hair. Maysilee thinks she’s beautiful, her mind briefly flicking back to her own grandmother before she’d passed. 

“Mama!” Wyatt cries, breaking the quiet moment and immediately being sushed by Maysilee and the other women, Wyatt’s mother. 

“Wyatt, baby, please be quieter, people are sleeping,” Mrs Callow scolds lightly, before she steps to the side and beckons them in, “Please, bring him in.”

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Maysilee says as she listens to the older woman, pausing once she’s gotten them past the threshold and Mrs Callow closes and latches the door behind them. 

“I wasn’t asleep yet,” Mrs Callow reassures, leading them further into the house, or well, leading Maysilee further into the house, Wyatt has collapsed against her again like a puppet with its strings cut, “Put him on a chair, I’ll get him some water.” She instructs, flicking the dining room light on as she slips into the next room, both Maysilee and Wyatt wince at the sudden light as she sits him in a rickety chair. 

Once Wyatt doesn’t seem like he’s about to fall off his chair Maysilee begins to move in the direction Mrs Callow headed to offer help, what with help exactly she’s not sure, but before she can move even two steps Wyatt’s hand shoots out and grabs the hem of her shirt in a tight grip. She looks down at him in confusion and has to stifle a laugh at how flushed his face is, in the dark of the night and the dimmer light of the Hob it hadn’t been so obvious but in the direct light of the Callow’s house Wyatt’s cheeks are flushed a deep red and his eyes are glassy as he looks up at her. 

“Drink this,” Mrs Callow orders Wyatt once she returns to the dining table. He takes a few sips without argument, his grip slipping from where he held on to Maysilee, before he folds his arms on the table and lays his head on top of them, “I’m Aaminah,” Mrs Callow says, introducing herself to Maysilee, “Wyatt’s mother.”

“I’m Maysilee Donner,” Maysilee answers, smiling uneasily as Aaminah’s eyes light up with something she can’t make out at her name.

“Oh,” Aaminah hums with a small smile, her eyes darting to her youngest son whose head is still pillowed in his arms, “So you're the girl my son’s been talking about.” She says and Maysilee ducks her head as she feels her cheeks begin to burn as red as Wyatt’s had been.

“I hate to ask more of you dear,” Aaminah begins again, drawing Maysilee’s attention from where she’d been reminding Wyatt to drink the water his mother had brought him, “But would you be able to help me get him to his room? I won’t be able to move him myself but I’d hate to leave him to sleep at the dining table.” 

“Yeah, I can help,” Maysilee agrees easily, grabbing Wyatt’s arm to pull him up and balance him the same way she had been doing between the Hob and the Callow home. Aaminah leads her down a dark hallway and opens a door to a small room, nothing much in it but a bed pushed into the far corner with a small nightstand next to it and a small desk covered in papers across from it. Maysilee makes her way into the room, twisting herself so Wyatt falls on to the bed. 

“Take your shoes off Wyatt,” Aaminah tells her son from the doorway, flicking on the old lamp that sits on Wyatt’s desk to allow a small bit of light in the room, and he sleepily complies, “I’ll go get him some more water, and a bucket.” She informs Maysilee before slipping away. 

With his shoes kicked off Wyatt moves himself onto the bed properly, twisting around so he’s laying on his back looking up at Maysilee who continues to stand beside his bed. “Are you stayin’?” Wyatt mumbles. 

Maysilee laughs lightly but shakes her head, running a hand through her hair to brush out the knots that had found their way into it throughout the night, “I have a shift in the morning,” she reminds him, “And my parents are expecting me home.”

Wyatt frowns and for a moment Maysilee is worried he might cry but he blinks and seems to come back to himself a bit, “I wish you could stay…” He says, voice strained, “I wish I could see you more.” He admits quietly. 

Maysilee feels her heart beat rapidly in her chest and tears prickle the corner of her eyes briefly, she wonders if the alcohol they’d been served had just been stronger tonight and was somehow still affecting her. She sucks in a deep breath and rights herself, sitting on the very edge of his bed, very aware of the way Wyatt’s eyes track her as she moves, “I’d like to see you more too,” Maysilee discloses, her eyes on the hand she has resting on top of his mattress, she could move her pinky, just a bit, and she would brush his hand. She pulls her hand onto her lap, “I still can’t stay the night though. But I’ll see you next week, ok?”

Wyatt frowns harder but any response he might have is cut off by his mother returning to the room, “Here,” She says, placing the cup of water on the nightstand, “and here,” she continues, handing him an old bowl, “I’ll show you out dear,” Aaminah finishes turning to Maysilee. 

“Thank you,” Maysilee says, rising from the bed, but before she begins to follow her towards the front door she turns back to Wyatt, “You should sleep, you’ll be feeling this in the morning,” She suggests to Wyatt who nods, sending her a sleepy smile, arguments to get her to stay seemingly forgotten. 

She catches up to Aaminah who reaches to unlatch the door for her before she pauses, turning to Maysilee, “Thank you, for getting him home, I’m glad he has someone like you.” She says sincerely, grabbing one of Maysilee’s hands to squeeze it thankfully. 

Maysilee freezes where she stands, she’d never had anyone thank her for being friends with someone, even Asterid’s parents had been wary of her, even as they tried to hide it. But Aaminah seems so genuinely glad that she of all people had become friends with her son. 

“Of course, I’d do it again,” She says honestly after a long few moments, hoping she understands she means both, that she’d drag him halfway across town just to make sure he gets home safe and that she’d find him and become his friend over and over again.

Aaminah smiles, letting go of Maysilee’s hand and opening the door, “Good night dear,” she says, closing the door behind Maysilee.

“Good night.”

She begins walking, the night air refreshing against her burning cheeks, she looks up and takes in the stars before she realises, “Shit, it has to be so late.”

Her and Merrilee’s birthday begins to creep up as October wanes. They’d never really had birthday parties when they were younger, Merrilee had always had plenty of friends but aside from Asterid Maysilee had never really had any and their parents hadn’t loved the idea of holding a party where only one of their daughters would have any friends in attendance. Instead the three of them would have a sleep over, all of Maysilee and Merrilee’s bedding taken from their beds and thrown onto the carpet in the middle of their rooms so the three of them can sleep curled up together. 

But this year it’s their 19th birthday they're celebrating, a birthday that's a big deal in the districts because it officially means they’re out of the reach of the reaping. And, for the first time that Maysilee can remember, she actually has more than one friend and her twin that she can spend her birthday with. 

The whole group of them had been out past the District boundary, a rare day where none of them were busy, but not near the lake, instead in a field dotted with wild flowers and trees bordering it, when Merrilee had invited them all to their families apartment for their birthday, their parents already have agreed to let them have the place.

Asterid had agreed immediately, far from a surprise, and Burdock had shrugged beside her saying he’d join his girlfriend. Blair had leaned closer to Merrilee, seemingly confused if he was also invited or not, but Wyatt had stayed quiet where he was laying against Maysilee, using her thigh as a pillow. 

“Are you going to be coming?” She’d asked the man in her lap as he frowned absentmindedly, eyes tracing the clouds that dotted the sky above them. 

“Yeah, of course,” Wyatt had replied, blinking before his eyes had focused on her, “I’ll be there, I was just thinking.” She’d been concerned but had simply nodded instead of pushing him. 

On the night of their birthday their parents followed through with their promise and headed to one of their own friend’s place for dinner and just a few minutes later, as Maysilee and Merrilee finished brushing off the old chairs they’d had to grab from a long untouched storage closet in the Sweet Shop to make sure that everyone had a place to sit around their dining table, a knock sounded from the front door. 

Merrilee opened the door, Maysilee hovering behind her, to Asterid standing in the doorway with a wide easy grin, and Burdock, Blair and Wyatt behind her with varying levels of unease or worry on their faces that quickly dissipated at Merrilee’s happy smile. In all of their hands was a dish of varying size, gift giving on birthdays wasn’t really a tradition in District 12 like Maysilee had heard it was in more well off Districts and the Capitol. With most of the District struggling to support their families from day to day, gifts were far from expected, even within the merchant side of town, gifts, if they did happen, were normally between romantic partners and parents and their children. 

So instead people would bring food to share during celebrations, something Maysilee was looking forward to as it had never really been something she had experienced.  

“Come in,” Merrilee said with a grin, smiling wider as each of their guests wished them a happy birthday before they were shuffled to the dining table. 

The Donner’s apartment was filled with loud chatter as they dug into the various foods the group had assembled. Family meals were usually a quiet affair, their mother not liking lots of talking at the table left the few conversations stilted, but that didn’t translate to now, the four walls of the apartment not suppressing the energy of the group like Maysilee had worried it would. 

The minutes tick past and the plates are licked clean and the conversations continue but Maysilee notices as Wyatt slowly goes quiet beside her, patting his pocket nervously every few minutes. When she first notices she worries he might have lost his scrip coin and the lack of its comforting weight in his pocket could be slowly getting to him but when he eventually pulls it out and rolls it across his knuckles as he listens to Blair describe some old story Burdock keeps interrupting to claim he’s getting wrong she just becomes more confused. 

She wants to ask him what’s wrong but with all the people around them she doubts he’d answer truthfully nor would she want to unnecessarily drag the rest of them into something that could be nothing. 

“Hey,” she says quietly to Wyatt as Blair and Burdock argue dramatically, “Did you want to meet Ana?” She asks, remembering how intrigued Wyatt had been about her canary when she’d mentioned her.  

Wyatt perks up a bit and nods, “Yeah sure, lead the way.”

Maysilee stands, pushing Wyatt in the direction of her and Merrilee’s bedroom where Ana’s cage lives, waving away Asterid’s curious gaze who is the only one of the table to notice them leaving. 

When they enter the room Ana ruffles her feathers in annoyance to the intrusion but allows Maysilee to gently pat her before she opens the door to the cage, “This is Ana,” Maysilee introduces, even if she feels a little silly introducing a bird, she sticks her hand further in to the cage and Ana steps on to her fingers, looking at Wyatt curiously, “Stick your hand out, she’ll sit on it.” She instructs, letting their hands touch so her bird can shuffle her way over once Wyatt copies. 

“She’s calmer than you described,” Wyatt says quietly, eyes focused on the bird that simply flutters her wings a bit.

Maysilee huffs a laugh as she makes sure Ana’s water and food are full, “She must like you, she’s never like this around new people.” 

Wyatt chuckles but easily hands the bird back to Maysilee as she gestures for her, placing Ana back in her cage who shakes her feathers but hops over to the topped up food without further complaint.

“Wyatt,” Maysilee begins, latching the cage before she turns around, “Are you ok? You’ve been quiet tonight.”

Wyatt pauses, mouth opening and closing for a second before he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks, “I’m fine it’s just,,,” He trails off before reaching into the pocket she’d noticed he’d been patting all night, “I got this for you, happy birthday.” He continues, grabbing her hand to place something in it. 

Maysilee freezes, hand clenched into a fist around what Wyatt passed her, she can feel her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest as she slowly twists her wrist and opens her hand. A bracelet sits in her palm, small silver chains connecting several multi-coloured stones, her eyes stay frozen on the piece of jewellery as Wyatt begins to talk again. 

“I know you normally wear necklaces but I saw this at a market and I thought it might be something you like?” He says, voice raising at the end like he’s questioning his own thought process, “And the thing probably isn’t nearly as well made as any of your actual jewellery and if you don’t want to wear it I get-”

Maysilee cuts him off by throwing herself at him and wrapping him in a hug, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, one hand clutching the bracelet as the other grabs his jacket just as tightly. Wyatt barely even pauses before he reciprocates, her heart still beats rapidly as she feels his arms around her waist, she wonders if he can feel her heart beating against him. 

“I love it Wyatt,” She says sincerely, “Thank you.” 

She feels him swallow where her head is pressed against the side of his neck before he nods, “I’m glad.”

After a second she steps back and holds the hand that holds the bracelet out between them, “Help me put it on?” She asks, feeling her heart squeeze pleasantly as she spots a light blush on the apples of his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” He breathes out, grabbing the bracelet and latching it around her wrist, the bright colours glinting in the low light of the room. She smiles as she twists her arm but the gentle atmosphere that surrounds them bursts as Merrilee bursts into the room, seemingly oblivious to Maysilee hiding her wrist behind her body, far from ashamed of the gift, if anything protective of it, wanting to keep his hers.

“There you two are,” Merrilee sighs, like there were any other rooms she could’ve possibly checked, “Asterid has a cake for us, come on.” she finishes before she hurries back to the dining room, leaving the bedroom door open. 

Maysilee smiles at Wyatt’s bemused look before gesturing for him to lead the way. 

— —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- 

The Hob was packed as the Covey performed, Burdock on stage with his cousins and other distant family, his strong but sweet voice that she was so used to hear singing the mourning song at the fallen tributes funeral every year belting out a high energy song that had more than half the crowd dancing in front of the stage, the constant movement keeping the temperature higher than the early winter night outside. 

She pulled Wyatt’s blazer tighter around her as someone walked through the door, letting a second of the frigid breeze in. She'd decided on a dress with tights for the night out but had purposefully left her coats behind, hoping that Wyatt would offer her his blazer as they walked home. But surprisingly all she had had to do was cross her arms over her chest as she hovered by him at the Booker Boy’s tables and he shucked it off and threw it over her shoulders. 

She kicked her feet back so they would hook on the foot rest of the barstool she sat on, eyes scanning the dancing crowd to see if she could spot her twin who had barely stuck around long enough to say hi to Wyatt when they arrived before she headed into the thick crowd. She thought she could just spot a flick of blonde hair but it was gone before she could see the rest of Merrilee, she wasn’t too worried about her sister, it wasn’t her first time at the Hob and she was the type of person to make friends with any one who stayed close enough to her. She could, however, spot Asterid standing at the edge of the stage, her attention solely focused on her boyfriend, she’d been there since Burdock had made his way on stage and had yet to move. 

Wyatt had been sitting on the barstool beside her until just a minute or two before, a Booker Boy having called him back to the table ‘it will just take a second’ the man had sweared, Wyatt had rolled his eyes but Maysilee had reassured him she would be ok and he had followed behind the man. 

“Miss Donner,” Kennedy greets, taking the barstool Wyatt had been sitting in. 

“Kennedy,” Maysilee returns the greeting, taking a swig of the drink she holds in her hands, “What did you need?”

“Am I not allowed to say hello?” He questions with a grin, thanking the bartender who slides him a drink, “It’s weird to see you without Wyatt attached,” He continues, faux casual as he sips his drink loudly. 

“He’s just over there if you need him,” She replies, nodding in the direction of the Booker Boys where she can just spot Wyatt’s grey hat in the crowd. 

“Oh I know where he is,” Kennedy responds, but before she can wonder why he brought Wyatt up at all then he continues, “Do you have anything planned for Wyatt’s birthday?”

Maysilee blinks, her attention drawn away from the stage, her head snapping in Kennedy’s direction, “What?” her voice high pitched and strained. 

Kennedy just blinks at her over his glass, “Wyatt’s birthday?” Kennedy repeats questioningly, like he’s not sure if that’s what Maysilee is confused about, “It’s in like three days time.”

“Really?!” She responds, panic rising in her at the fact she hadn’t known his birthday and that it was so close. 

Kennedy on the other hand is calm beside her, taking another sip of his drink as he twists in his seat so he can just see Wyatt across the room, “I’m not surprised Wyatt didn’t tell you honestly,” He says, “He never really liked his birthdays as a kid, don’t think he liked the attention to much, or the fact it was basically a countdown to him joining the mines,” His voice dropping at the end but Maysilee still hears it, her heart twisting in her chest. 

On stage Burdock finishes singing, bowing as the crowd cheers before he jumps off stage and heads towards Asterid. The band quickly starts up another tune as the crowd begins dancing again and Maysilee downs the last of her drink, placing it decisively on the bar top as she slips off the stool. “Thanks for letting me know Kennedy, I need to go talk to someone,” She says, nodding at him before she begins to walk towards the couple. 

Kennedy raises a confused brow but merely shrugs and sends her a lazy salute as she heads off, turning towards the bar fully. 

Burdock is grinning and visibly sweaty from the bright lights that had been shining down at him, the couple both turn to her once she’s weaved her way through the thinner part of the crowd but before either of them can speak she turns to Burdock, “Do you know it’s Wyatt’s birthdays in 3 days?” she asks seriously. 

“What, no?” Burdock questions, Asterid beside him rising her eyebrows in shock, “Is it really?”

“Yeah, Kennedy just told me, you didn’t know?” She presses further, not quite believing none of them knew Wyatt’s birthday. 

“No!” Burdock defends, “He’s never mentioned when his birthday is before, how did you not know? I thought the two of you were always together these days,” He continues, eyes darting to the blazer she’s wearing, Wyatt’s blazer, “we all attended yours and Merrilee’s birthday last month? You didn’t think to ask?”

Burdock’s questions seem sincere but they make Maysilee’s temper flare nonetheless, someone else voicing the exact thoughts that had been spinning through her head since Kennedy had mentioned Wyatt’s birthday. She should’ve known, she spent more time with Wyatt then the rest of the group combined, minus the time Burdock and Wyatt spent together in the mines, she obviously hadn’t been in them but she knew they were hardly a place to spend getting to know people. And he had been at her birthday, had gotten her a bracelet she wore every single day since, dancing around where it had come from whenever Asterid and Merrilee asked about it. 

She should've known.

That doesn’t mean she’ll just let someone else point that out though.

“Hey! You’ve known him longer and-” Maysilee begins, but before she can get into it Asterid steps between them. 

“Hey! Ok! Ok!” Asterid says loudly, waving her arms to get their attention on her and off of each other, “We all probably should’ve asked when Wyatt’s birthday is, but it also makes sense he never told us, he’s pretty private.”

“Yes well,” Maysilee sighs, the anger in her chest fizzling out, “We need to do something for his birthday.”

“Obviously-” Burdock begins but he cuts himself off as he spots something over Maysilee’s shoulder, before she can turn around to find out what he saw a hand rests against her hip and she knows who he saw.

“You sounded great Burdock,” Wyatt compliments, slipping into the conversation, keeping his hand against Maysilee, sliding from her waist to her lower back, Maysilee subconsciously rocking back into his presence, “What were you guys talking about.”

Burdock thanks Wyatt at the same time Maysilee says, “Nothing,” turning she begins pushing him further into the dancing crowd, “I have been waiting to dance with you though, c’mon.”

Wyatt complies easily, barely blinking before his feet catch up to Maysilee’s demand, once she sees Wyatt isn’t looking any more she turns around miming to the couple that the interrupted conversation isn’t over before she turns back around to follow Wyatt on to the dance floor. 

“What can we even do for his birthday?” Burdock asks the next day, he’s sitting on an old crate in the apothecary as Maysilee meticulously writes out labels and Asterid mixes an ointment next to her, “We’ll be in the mines on his birthday, which is again in two days.”

“I know,” Maysilee groans, “You have mentioned this many times.”

“And yet-“

“Ok! What if we don’t have the party on his actual birthday?” Asterid cuts in, “He doesn’t know we know his birthday so he won’t be expecting anything, and like Burdock has said he’ll be busy anyway.”

Both Burdock and Maysilee go quite in thought before, “That could work,” Burdock agrees, “But where would we have it? And when?”

Maysilee stays quiet, biting her lip so she doesn’t bite the end of her pen as thinks, “Burdock, do you think the lake would be frozen enough to try skating on?”

Burdock tilts his head as he thinks, “It could be,” he eventually says, “I’d have to check though.” 

“We could have a surprise party at the lake then,” Maysilee suggests, “Sunday night, the moon will be full so it will be pretty bright and we can try skating. And even if we can’t skate it will still be beautiful.”

“Good idea,” Asterid says, “Burdock and I can bring the skates, though there won’t be enough for all of us to be on the lake at the same time.”

“Then we’ll take it in turns,” Maysilee shrugs.

“It is a good idea,” Burdock agrees, “But how will we get Wyatt there?”

“I’ll ask him,” Maysilee says, turning all her focus to the label, missing the grin Asterid and Burdock share above her head. 

“Yeah he’ll be there then,” Burdock states before rising to his feet, “I need to head home, help ma with laundry before dinner,” Burdock continues, leaning across the table to give Asterid a quick peck, “I’ll see you at home.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Asterid replies with a sickly sweet grin, Maysilee rolls her eyes half heartedly beside them. 

“Let me know about the lake!” Maysilee calls out to Burdock as he slips out of the door, he sticks out a thumbs up before the door swings shut behind him. 

The two work in silence for a few minutes, both of them aiming to get back home before the sun slips completely behind the horizon, but as Maysilee sticks a new label on to a jar, sliding it to Asterid, she sighs, “You know, you still owe me one.”

“Owe you?” Asterid questions, pouring the salve into the jar before she looks to her friend, “What do I owe you for?”

“When you first asked me to join you and Burdock at the lake,” Maysilee explains, fiddling with the pen, “I said I would but you owed me, I still haven’t called in the favour.”

“I thought I would have paid that back by now,” Asterid mumbles quietly before she continues louder, “What’s the favour then?”

“On Sunday,” Maysilee begins, licking her lips nervously, “After we’ve all been at the lake for a while, would you be able to shuffle everyone out so it’s only me and Wyatt?””

“Sure?” Asterid agrees confusedly, “Can I ask why though?”

Maysilee turns her head, hoping her hair covers the way her cheeks begin to burn but it clearly doesn’t work as Asterid sucks in a surprised breath, “Holy shit are you going to tell him?” She asks, hands clasped in front of her chest. 

“Probably… maybe.”

Asterid cheers, turning Maysilee back to her so she can hug her tightly, Maysilee chuckles and pats her friends back hesitantly, “Why are you cheering like I’ve already done it?” She questions, “He could still reject me.”

Asterid pulls back from the hug, keeping a hold of Maysilee’s shoulders, with a disbelieving look, “There is no way he will reject you, you should see how he looks at you.”

Maysilee feels her blush come back full force as she shifts away from her friend's hold, “Whatever,” She mumbles, “So will you?”

“Of course!” 

The week speeds past as Maysilee braids a necklace to gift to Wyatt and surreptitiously slides away a candy or two every day that she can bring to the surprise party. On Saturday she spends the evening by Wyatt’s side at the Hob as she often now does and barely has to suggest visiting the snow covered lake the next night before he’s agreeing to join her. 

Now they’re walking through the well worn path to the lake, the full moon lighting the way, the snow having stopped falling just an hour or two before leaving the sky clear and the landscape cold and untouched. Maysilee had given her gift and the sweets to Merrilee before she’d left to meet Wyatt, having had her twin swear that she wouldn’t peek at what was in the second package before she’d trusted her.

In the corner of her eye she sees him adjust his hat so it doesn’t sit so low over his eyes, the threat of falling snow having abated. Their hands brush between them as they walk but they stay in comfortable silence, Maysilee spots through the foliage the twinkling lights of the old oil lamps they’d set up and she hopes he’s too focused on the beautiful sight ahead of him to notice the artificial light and have his surprise ruined. 

They turn the last corner and before Wyatt could process that the rest of their friends were waiting at the shore they cried out, “Surprise!” their voices echoing over the frozen lake. 

Wyatt’s baffled gaze turns to Maysilee and she smiles, “Happy Birthday Wyatt,” She says, placing a hand on his back to urge him forward. 

Burdock and Blair crowd around him first, clapping him on the back, wishing him a happy birthday from, Asterid greets him next, a quick hug as she wishes him a happy birthday and Merrilee slides up to Maysilee passing her the package that holds the wire necklace. 

“I didn’t look,” Her twin swears before she returns to the group, Maysilee quickly sticks it in the largest pocket of her coat. 

Maysilee can see the confusion on Wyatt’s face but he eats the food provided with genuine gratefulness as they all crowded the small area the group had cleared off snow before they’d arrived. Burdock then pulls out the skates with a grin. He and Asterid demonstrate how to skate, not straying far from the shore and the light that emanates from the lamps, before they hand them to Maysilee and Wyatt to try. 

The skates are a little big on her feet but the extra socks she’d slipped in the picnic basket keep them feeling tight enough that she’s not worried they’ll slip right off her feet. They stumble and fall a few times, hands gripping each other tightly to try and keep their balance as Burdock switches between laughing loudly and calling out directions until they can finally find their feet on the ice. 

“Hey,” Maysilee says, quiet enough that no one on the shore can hear her, “We’ve finally learnt something together.”

Wyatt returns her smile, squeezing the hand he still has a hold of. 

Merrilee and Blair try out skating next, falling and fumbling the same way Maysilee and Wyatt had once the birthday boy declares he’s had enough after he trips once more, laughing good naturedly with Blair and Burdock who help slide him to shore. 

Time passes quicker then Maysilee would like and before she even realises it Asterid is following through with her promise, shuffling the rest of the group away once they say goodbye and wish Wyatt another happy birthday. Wyatt himself looks mildly baffled at the way Asterid pushes a complaining Burdock away but seems content to stay at Maysilee’s side once it’s clear she’s not also leaving, sitting herself on a rock she brushed the snow off of. 

Wyatt sits beside her easily, their thighs pressing against each other, before she reaches into her pocket and passes the package to him, “Happy birthday,” She says, smiling in the way his eyes widen in surprise. 

He unwraps the paper, hands hovering over the wire necklace hesitantly, “Maysilee…” he says quietly, finally pulling the entire necklace out. 

“I made it so you can put your coin in it,” She explains, pointing to the center of the necklace, “That way you have a place to keep it but you can still pop it out to fiddle with it when you need.”

Wyatt pauses, eyes stuck on the winding wire, hands drifting over it before he turns to Maysilee, “Thank you,” He says simply, but Maysilee can see how sincerely he means it and she smiles back, taking the necklace from his hands gently to hook it around his neck, reaching over to center it on his chest. 

“Did you enjoy your party?” She asks hopefully. 

“I loved it,” He admits, “It’s probably the best birthday I’ve had.”

“I’m glad,” Maysilee replies, “I am sorry it’s not actually on your birthday.”

“I don’t mind,” Wyatt shrugs, “How did you find out about my birthday anyway?”

“Kennedy might have told me last week,” She admits with a small grin, laughing as Wyatt nods, muttering about how that sounded about right. 

Maysilee’s eyes turn out to the view, noting the way clouds are starting to hover above twelve again, taking in a deep breath, the cold air soothing the anxiety that swirls in her chest. Then Maysilee stands up and offers a hand to Wyatt, he takes it without a second thought and she pulls him up so they are standing a little closer to the lake, the tips of their toes just brushing the beginning of the ice. 

“There’s something else I’d like to say,” Maysilee begins, wincing at how much her nerves twist around her words.

“You can tell me anything,” Wyatt says instantly, squeezing the hand he still holds. She sighs, slipping her hand out of his grip and crossing her arms over her chest. 

“What I’m about to say, you’ve probably already realised,” Maysilee begins, gaze focused on the far shore of the lake she can barely make out, “I know everyone else has and you make it hard for me to hide these, uh, softer parts of me. And I think you might, uh, feel it too? Or well I hope you do, that’s the only reason I’m even saying anything because-” She rambles, body twisting as she does so Wyatt is in the corner of her eye, but now with Wyatt just in her line of sight she begins nervously bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“Maysilee,” He says softly, grabbing her elbow to keep her from bouncing. His cheeks are flushed, and Maysilee can’t tell if it’s just because of the cold or not, but she can see the smile he is fighting and that gives her enough reassurance to be able to take a breath, “you can tell me.”

“I like you,” She breathes out softly “more than a friend if that wasn’t clear. And I hope you might feel the same?”

Wyatt smiles, his blush grows but then his face drops, just a tiny bit, conflict dancing across his expression, “I do,” He says.

Maysilee sighs, even though she’d been confident, Asterid’s reassuring smiles and Merrilee’s knowing looks helped lift her confidence over the past few days as she’d talked herself up, the confirmation lifted a heavy weight off of her, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Maysilee smiles and hugs him tightly, he reciprocates but as they part, his arms still around her waist, hers around his shoulders, he speaks again, “But, are you sure about this? Us?”

“What?” Maysilee asks, confused, her arms tightening around his shoulders just a bit. 

“It’s just,” Wyatt begins before he pauses, eyes drifting over her face in the dim light before he continues, “I saw how people reacted when Asterid and Burdock got together, I heard how her mother treated her and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if the same happened to you. What would people say or do if you were with me, and wouldn’t it be worse? I’m not just Seam I’m a booker boy-”

“You're an oddsmaker,” Maysilee interrupts quickly.

“They don’t care,” Wyatt responds just as quickly, his eyes dark with conflict. 

“Well I don’t care what they think either,” Maysilee counters, “I want this, I want you, who cares what others say,” she admits, feeling her heart thud at being so unusually heartfelt.

“But-”

“Wyatt, do you trust me?” She asks seriously. 

“Of course,” He answers, not hesitating a second.

“Then trust that I have thought about this,” she reassures, smiling as Wyatt’s eyes begin to clear of the conflict that had darkened them, “about all of it, and I want you anyway. Ok?”

“Ok,” Wyatt agrees, his arguments fading away as he smiles at her. 

Maysilee nods, she knows this conversation will come up again every time their relationship grows further. She knows it will grow deeper especially once talks of marriage come around. But for now, this cold night with just each other to keep warm and words of devotion spoken just between them it’s enough. 

Her eyes drift down from Wyatt’s dark eyes to his lips, paler in the cold but just as enticing as they had been that first night in the Hob as they’d danced. 

“Can I kiss you now?” She asks quietly, not wanting to break the blanket of quiet that had fallen over them.

“Yes.” 

Maysilee pulls him in quickly, the hands that had been around his shoulders having threaded their way into the hair at the base of his neck that isn’t  covered by his hat. His lips were soft and hesitant against her slightly dry ones but even that simple touch was enough to send electricity sparkling its way through her body and as they parted her eyes met his again. They were close enough Maysilee could count every one of his eyelashes if she wanted to and could very easily see how blown his pupils were as he gazed back at her. 

Maysilee’s lips parted slightly but before she could even say a word Wyatt was pulling her back in, the confidence he’d been missing in the first one all she could feel as one of his hands gripped her waist tighter, no where close to painfully tight but instead grounding her and keeping her mind from floating in the clouds as his lips parted under her own. His other hand made its way slowly up to her mid back so he could hold her closer. 

And as the snow began to fall again, tiny flakes drifting to rest on their shoulders and heads, their lives began anew.