exomeme | part seventy

part seventy

EUREUREONG EUREUREONG EUREUREONG（●＾o＾●）

n_n

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904w

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if there is anything a tribute from a poor district like his learns early on, it's to watch out for the career districts. for them, the hunger games really are a game, his mentor had told him, and seeing the luxury joonmyun surrounds himself in, just days before they're all thrown into a metaphorical pit to fight for their lives, he can't help but wonder if it's true.

it's unfair to judge people before you know them, and yixing knows that. he's learned it often enough, and even just yesterday the canniba-- luhan, had smiled a distressingly honest smile and offered yixing the open palm he hadn't known he'd so desperately needed.

it's evening, the rest done with their training for the day. yixing is still there in the empty practice rooms, working on his accuracy with throwing knives – you never knew when a projectile weapon would come in handy, and much as he admired the bow and arrow he needed something he could pick up fast. he'd been told not to tire himself out, but yixing has always been too dumb to listen to things told him for his own good. he's regretting it soon enough though, when a hand lands on his neck, heavy, covering the wide expanse from the edge of his shoulder halfway up to his chin, and for one heart-stopping moment it feels like strangling. but the pressure lessens quickly enough when yixing jerks away, a deep voice reassuring him, 'woah woah, i'm just saying hi. no need to freak out on me.'

when he turns to look, he recognizes the man in front of him, but he doesn't remember his name. it's better anyway, he’d told himself, to forego names and label each tribute an indistinguishable 'enemy,' but what he does remember, is that this tribute is from one of the wealthier districts, not quite on suho's level but not far either. he doesn't mean to, but already he can feel his defenses rising in anticipation of the condescension that might follow.

'i'm kris,' is what he hears instead, the other tribute lifting his hand fully from yixing's neck and pulling it back awkwardly for a moment, hovering there giant and useless, before he thrusts it out again for a handshake, 'and, uh, you're yixing?'

yixing's still bristling slightly, but he can also feel a laugh worming its way up the back of his throat, at how uncertain kris looks at that moment, like a six-foot child unsure of how to go about adult introductions. swallowing it down with a small cough, he asks instead, 'aren't you supposed to let me introduce myself?' a small smile working its way across his lips.

'ah, yeah. sorry, i just,' kris sounds more flustered than before, but then, he seems to draw himself (even) taller, as if gathering himself, continues, ‘i heard someone was staying behind to practice and did a bit of asking around.'

‘ah… know your enemy, right?’ yixing suggests tentatively, working out kris’s reasoning for him. it still doesn't explain why he's here in person, and yixing tilts his head with the implied question.

‘actually, i was wondering if i could join you,’ kris says, sounding sheepish.

‘the practice room’s open,’ he says, automatically, having quickly picked up the habit of closing himself off since arriving, but feels bad about it right after, when kris has seemed so nice up to now. ‘i wouldn’t mind practicing together,’ he offers as half an apology, and kris’s smile widens so far he shows gums, and that’s that.

--

as it turns out, kris is really bad at throwing knives. his hands are too large to grip them precisely, and the way his brows furrow heavily as another one slips out of his fingers too early and flies a measly two feet before crashing down has yixing trying hard to stifle his laughter. he’s also really bad at recognizing berries (even worse than yixing and his horrible memory, though he does have a lifetime of working the fields to help him), and at agility courses, and two joint practice sessions later yixing actually finds himself wondering (worrying?) how someone so helpless is going to survive in the arena.

so yixing feels vaguely betrayed, when the training scores do come out and kris who can’t even hold a knife properly receives a training score of nine. when he sees him again after, yixing doesn’t say, i was actually worried about you, and demand an explanation like he wants to, but kris seems to get it and shrugs, ‘i guess i'm good with the sponsors?’ and then, before yixing has the chance to respond, ‘i wanted to be able to keep up with you.’

he's proposing an alliance, yixing realizes with a start, and even if he hasn’t been thinking about it himself – forgetting, when he was with kris, to think so much about the games – he knows it’s been the natural choice all along. kris trusts him and, yixing realizes with some further surprise, he trusts kris too. ‘i guess it’ll be me trying to keep up with you now,’ he says, just as easy as that, and when he meets kris’s eyes with a small smile it seems like any tension within him, between them – has faded. it's dangerous, yixing knows, to allow himself to relax like this before the game has even begun, but somehow he finds he’s not worried.

--

half asleep but i wanted to get something out for today, i'm sorry it's shitty TT

ooooh my heatteu

(╯°□°）╯ ♥

throws you a hearteu ;; ty for reading anon!

fanxing is perfect and so is this gj anon

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part seventy

hg: some sort of fanxing intro (team cccm&sssp)

Re: hg: some sort of fanxing intro (team cccm&sssp)

Re: hg: some sort of fanxing intro (team cccm&sssp)

Re: hg: some sort of fanxing intro (team cccm&sssp)

Re: hg: some sort of fanxing intro (team cccm&sssp)

Re: hg: some sort of fanxing intro (team cccm&sssp)