all_inclusive | Gathering: New Year's Eve Gala

Gathering: New Year's Eve Gala

The annual Nexus New Year's Eve gala began at 8 in the evening. Too grand to be contained by the lobby or dining hall, the gardens at the front of the hotel were employed, with long strings of white lights forming a twinkling canopy from the front doors all the way to the hedge maze. The weather was temperate and calm, and the night perfectly clear.

Drinks were served at various bars set up throughout the gardens and lobby, with champagne cocktails being the specialty of the night. Wheeling through the crowd was a bartender with golden cart providing warm drinks on the go: Tom and Jerrys, rum punch, negus, and Irish coffee.

Crisply-dressed wait staff wove through the collected guests with an abundance of hors d'oeuvres for all different tastes. The Bistro remained open with a limited selection of items for those who were wanting something more substantial.

Above the front doors was hung a large, gold-rimmed clock counting down the last hours, minutes, and seconds of the current year.

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Cinna has put the material and the subsequent sewing machine to good use. And of course, anything he makes for Grey has to be easy access to the words on his skin and easy to maneuver in should the unexpected happen and such be needed. There are even a few slots for knives if they come across any eventually. Cinna thinks he looks absolutely unique and handsome tonight. Cinna likes all things and people unique. Cinna loves Grey.

For himself, Cinna has stuck with what he knows. He has yet to make himself anything unique by the Capitol's standards. Instead, he's in his usual dress shirt with fitted vest, open at the collar and slacks and dress shoes. He feels dressed up and comfortable. He keeps a glass of wine in his hand, something with a rose hue that is sweet but not too sweet. He'll be sipping at wine all night. Cinna does enjoy drinking now and then, especially wine. His nails are painted black and of course he wears his token golden liner.

He's so happy to have Grey by his side. When they're together he keeps their hands clasped and sometimes, like right now, his lips find Grey's cheek, brow and lips. "You look absolutely wonderful tonight. Did they celebrate the new year on the train?"

There's a long word that Cinna feels spelled on his palm. Yakaterina Bridge.

Once a year, they would pass the bridge. That's the day that Grey died, too.

This will be his birthday, though, tomorrow. He'll be a year older, even though he doesn't know how old he is. This is, in its own way, then, his birthday party. No friends, but he has Cinna and that is what matters most.

Yakaterina Bridge. He hasn't thought about that in months. Of course, nothing in the back of the train was a celebration, not really. Tanya would try sometimes but it never took.

Cinna looks and smells so good. Grey gazes at him with obvious warmth.

Cinna can barely make out the first word, but the second is unmistakable. Cinna asks Grey to spell out the first word three more times before he finally gets it. Thankfully, Grey is accustomed to his needing the harder, more unfamiliar words given to him several times. Grey has always been patient with him, just as Cinna has always been patient with Grey.

"Yakaterina Bridge, I'm guessing is a place the train passed by... at the new year." He knows the train treks go around the world. But how amazing is it that the train might have been timed to go around its tracks in a years time each and every year? That is something he hadn't previously known.

"Well today you get to celebrate its traditions with me." He gently squeezes Grey's hand in his. They've lost so much, so many dear friends, but there is still this, the two of them, together. "This makes me very happy."

With his free hand, Grey reaches up to touch Cinna's cheek, just briefly. He likes to think he knows all the expressions there, even if that's not true, at least not yet.

The idea of traditions, though, is that they will be done again and again and that he and Cinna will be together to do that. That is, in Grey's mind, an entirely good thing.

There is music playing and that is a tradition that Grey knows from their time in Teleios. He may not be any good at it, but he likes swaying with his body against Cinna's and he nods toward the dance floor. Yes? They can dance together - that can be a tradition, right?

Cinna just barely presses his cheek into Grey's palm, making the touch more solid and real. Sometimes he still can't believe that Grey is here, that they ended up here together. He feels so undeserving. People from Panem don't usually get good things like this whether it's deserving or not. And whether or not it's deserving in Cinna's case is up for debate, he thinks. Cinna is harder on himself than anyone else ever could be.

This is his good thing and he finds himself more than a little bit selfish about it.

When Grey tilts his head in the direction of an area cordoned off for dancing, Cinna can't help the soft smile that pulls at the corners of his lips. He remembers teaching Grey to dance. He remembers learning to sway back and forth with him instead of using actual steps to dance. Good memories, both of them.

"I think I would enjoy that, yes." He says, setting his empty glass of wine down and walking hand-in-hand with Grey toward the floor. There, he turns to face him and one hand slips to Grey's waist. The other, with their joined hands, is curled in against his chest between them.

In this moment, like a few small other moments, Grey is struck by the fact that Cinna is just that bare few inches shorter than he is. Grey's cheek rests against Cinna's temple. He doesn't close his eyes as they sway; he is never one to let his guard down that much around other people. But Cinna can feel him relax, just that little bit when Grey's body is pressed to his.

This way, too, Grey can breathe in how Cinna smells, warm and spicy; it sends tingles down his belly. Cinna - how he feels and smells and tastes and looks - means everything, really. So, Grey breathes that in.

Grey is tall and lean. Thankfully, he's filled out some from the skin and bones he was when Cinna had first met him. Grey is beautiful. And yes, taller than Cinna by just a bit. It isn't something that's always noticeable unless they're this close to each other, which they often are. But for as much as Cinna likes to fade into the periphery of every day life, he is somewhat larger of a personality than Grey, and perhaps that perception is what makes the height difference so interesting.

Where was it that they first danced together? Oh yes, down by the pool in the Temple in Teleios. It was a toga party that Augustus had thrown. Cinna, not understanding when he was told to wear bed sheets, had designed he and Grey these elaborate clothes made out of bed sheets. That had been a good evening.

"Do you remember when we first danced?" He asks Grey.

At the mention of the memory, Grey smiles against Cinna's temple, his mind reminding him of the evening. Yes, they had been dressed differently than everyone else, but that had never bothered him. The only time he's cared is when he first arrived, filthy and stinking of human suffering that he'd thought to care of the impression he'd made. He'd been reminded again when the train car had shown up.

But now, here, they are clean and if anything, Grey smells of Cinna - never a problem. They sway together and he nods; he remembers, spelling a word on Cinna's back, not that he expects his lover to be able to decipher that. P-O-O-L.

But he remembers. That was a good night. They went back to their room later and Grey stretched out on the bed and felt Cinna against him.

It's that after-dancing memory that makes him shiver, pressing closer.

Cinna has no idea what Grey wrote against his back, but it's enough to let him know that Grey remembers their sitting together on the edge of the pool with their feet in the water, wearing their fabulously designed bed sheet clothing. It's one of the earliest of memories with the two of them together once they had decided they were something... more.

And of course the aftermath of that party is a good memory too. Most memories with Grey are good. The ones that aren't are when either of them were being toyed with in one way or another. Even before they called what was between them 'love', they were protective of one another.

Grey presses closer and Cinna turns his head to kiss next to his ear. "We'll make good memories here too. We're together."

They're together: that's it.

When the music stops, he leans back, cheeks rosy with happiness, his hands twining with Cinna's. He nods toward the food tables. They can see what there is to eat? It looks quite sumptuous and as Cinna knows, Grey can always eat. And eating with Cinna is its own sensual pleasure, too.

In fact, he grins. There seem to be strawberries.

There's really nothing more that Cinna could ask for. They've both accomplished all they will accomplish in their worlds. He should be dead, after all. They both should be dead. But here they are. And that they're here together, well, that's a miracle. For a man with no faith in anyone but humanity itself, Cinna has certainly seen some miracles happen.

The look on Grey's face when he leans back is lovely. Again, Cinna wishes he had his camera to capture the moment. Grey's happiness should always be remembered, he thinks.

They move toward the food and he is already grinning when he spots the platter of small red fruit. His smile meets Grey's and Cinna quickly fills a napkin with a handful of the strawberries. In this matter he is nothing if not predictable. "Perhaps you can help me eat these." He offers. "Is there anything else you want?"

Cookies! Cake! Sweet baked goods are still and perhaps always Grey's weakness. He doesn't so much point as just start grabbing a plate and piling it high with treats. Everything looks decadent and without surprise, he grabs all sweet things and breads and nothing that is remotely green.

They will share the strawberries and the sweet treats. And - he gives Cinna sly look, taking a bottle of what he hopes is wine and slipping into the folds of his clothes. They don't need to sneak most likely, but there's a small thrill of taking what isn't theirs. Now they'll go? To be alone together?

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Gathering: New Year's Eve Gala

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