The Desert's Edge ➣ Gloss/OC

In hopes of summarizing this strange state.

Chapter Thirty Six | In hopes of summarizing this strange state.

"Then love-devouring death do what he dare –

It is enough that I may but call her mine."

2.6, 7-8 Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare

The first time Gloss calls her on the telephone, he doesn't know what the hell he's doing. He's had her number for ages now, shoved into the drawer of his nightstand and left there. She'd given it to him on a whim, had laughingly stuffed it into his blazer jacket as if she was pretending that everything between them was new and scintillatingly fresh, despite having been sharing each other's beds for a while. He'd given her an amused look, but hadn't had any intention of actually using her number. It's funny though, because despite this, he hadn't been able to bring himself to throw it away. It's been pressed into his nightstand drawer for months now, blazing up at him whenever he opens it as if the numbers are a minor part of a greater symphony that is yet unfinished.

The first time he dials the numbers into his phone, he's had a few drinks. Admittedly, it isn't really his best moment. The sound of her voice when she answers is a balm he hadn't known he needed until then, and it lifts the pressing loneliness that shudders at him from all sides within seconds.

"Hello?"

He never knew one word would make him feel so incredibly relieved. He closes his eyes.

"...Hello?" she asks again when he doesn't respond, sounding wary.

Gloss immediately clears his throat and blurts, "Winston."

The silence that blisters through the line makes his momentary relief disappear, like so many scattered words left unsaid.

"...Gloss? Is that you?" Elara wonders. This time, she sounds incredulous, and he is immediately left reeling at the tone, feeling extremely out of his depth. Has he crossed a line? He frowns.

After a pause, he firmly reminds her, "You gave me your number, remember?"

He can still recall the smirking way her eyes had captured his when she had slid the piece of paper into his pocket then proceeded to grasp the lapels of his blazer and drag him into a kiss. The blazer hadn't stayed on him for very long after that.

Elara draws a blank. She hesitantly says, "That was a long time ago. I thought you lost it."

He pauses, too, feeling suddenly very awkward. Maybe he should have just thrown it away after all.

"...I didn't," is all he says in response, and then purses his lips to keep himself from saying something else that is equally as stupid.

Elara's voice is very amused when she drawls, "So I see."

He keeps his mouth clamped shut. She chuckles.

"Are you in the Capitol?" she asks, leaning against the kitchen counter as she holds the phone to her ear. The question is easy and he latches onto it in hope that it might keep the awkwardness at bay. Honestly, he feels very unprepared in the face of said awkwardness. He can't recall it ever being present between them before. A casual relationship like theirs shouldn't be trapped within such heavy lines, or so he thinks.

He sweeps a hand through his hair and replies, "Yeah. I'm heading back to District 1 in a few days." Then, because he figures he should probably have a reason behind this sudden urge to hear her voice, he asks her, "When's your next visit?"