The Desert's Edge ➣ Gloss/OC

Nor made less vast, or vaster by demand,

Chapter Twenty Five | Nor made less vast, or vaster by demand,

"I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far

As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea,

I should adventure for such merchandise."

2.2, 82-84 Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare

She doesn't know why she's so nervous. It isn't such a strange thing, really, buying someone a gift. It's what normal people do when they're with someone. They think of them at inconvenient times, wonder how they're doing, take notice of their likes and dislikes, their hobbies and dreams. They learn unnecessary things about them. Silly things, useless things. Like the fact that Gloss hates the cold, and the rain, and takes steaming, burning showers and drinks his coffee with cream, no sugar. He doesn't like sweet things.

But he does like sleeping late, and eating big breakfasts, and wearing comfortable clothing. He loves the dawn, even though he usually sleeps through it, and when he has nightmares, it's the only time he drinks tea. He claims that the taste of it drives away his dreams. It's his superstitious cure-all. Superstitious, because it doesn't matter what kind of tea he makes. According to him, any will do.

Elara knows a lot of useless things about him. Things that she doesn't need to know. Yet – all of these things are reasons why she loves him, though she couldn't explain why with words alone. It's just a feeling that rises up within her every time she's near him – an inexplicable wave that crashes through her whenever she learns something new about him that she hadn't known before. It makes her feel that somehow, in some way, there is something real between them after all, and that thought brings her far more comfort than it probably should, for she knows that theirs is a love that can never be.

Even so, they both mean something significant to each other otherwise they wouldn't keep coming back into one another's orbits every time they're in the Capitol. Still, Elara wouldn't characterize their relationship to be normal. If anything, it is as far from normal as it could possibly be.

Maybe that's why she's so nervous. Even though she's been with Gloss many times over – mapped out his body with her hands and her lips and breathed words against his skin and loved every contour of his physical form – she isn't really with him. Even though she knows many useless, unnecessary things about him that most people don't, they aren't truly together. The claim she has over him is a jaded thing, inconsequential and wild. Its unsteadiness is what marks every single one of the moments that they share.

With a hesitant pause, Elara looks down at the box in her hands. The papery edges of the expensive cardboard trim gleams silver in the light. The saleswoman had asked if she'd wanted it wrapped, but she had denied the service. Partially because she wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't return the damned thing, and partially because she couldn't quite decide if she really liked it or not.

What does one get a man who already has everything? District 1 is a place with very little poverty. Gloss has told her himself, plenty of times, that he'd been a spoiled brat growing up, always getting whatever he wanted. What use would he have for anything that she gets him?

She slowly opens the box to look at the contents. The fine woolen sweater that's nestled in the tissue paper is a simple piece, with several cables twisting up the front. The entire thing is a deep forest green, so dark that it's nearly black in the dim lighting. She's not sure that she's ever seen Gloss wear anything like this before, but she knows that he likes comfortable clothes and soft fabric, and the merino wool blend is so soft that it feels like a cloud when she reaches down to touch it.