Sejanus knew he was being reckless. He had been reckless before, of course—his whole life seemed to be one long rebellion against everything his father had tried to make him. But this? Sneaking away from base in the dead of night, just to see you? This was something else entirely.

The first time he saw you again, standing among the ruins of District 12 like a ghost from a life he’d lost, he thought he was dreaming. You were supposed to be gone, whisked away by the Capitol to live in Victor’s luxury. But no, you had returned—to this graveyard of a district, to the place where your life had nearly ended. To him.

Now, as you stood before him in the silver moonlight, the hunger in your eyes was something he recognized. Not for food, not for survival. For something real. Something true.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered, though you made no move to push him away.

“I could say the same for you,” Sejanus replied, his voice quieter than usual, more careful. “But I think we both know neither of us belongs anywhere else.”

Your expression softened—just a little. “If Coriolanus finds out—”

“Then he finds out.” Sejanus stepped closer, his fingers itching to close the space between you. “I’ve spent too long being afraid of what they’ll take from me.” His voice dropped lower, something fragile woven between the words. “I won’t let them take you, too.”

You exhaled, shaky but resolute, and for the first time since you had won your Games, since you had clawed your way back to life, you allowed yourself to reach for him.

Sejanus didn’t hesitate. His fingers curled around yours, solid and warm despite the bitter cold.

For now, that was enough.