'Til Death Do Us Part

Tonight was turning out to be one of the best in quite some time. Even surrounded by nearly faceless individuals he felt just about as safe as he could be. Enjoying himself thoroughly, he wasn't sure how today could get any better than it already was. Atticus was here, they were together and not hiding that fact, just that was enough to never want to leave this night. He'd been talking with Lia as Atticus took Lucius aside, not even thinking to question him. It was Atti, there was nothing to doubt or question. It could be just about anything but nothing really came to mind to think about the fact. They traded kids every now and then when they were together. It was the simple yet mysterious "come with me" that got his mind working. The smile said it was a good thing but the lack of communication told him to worry anyways.

The young man followed quickly, holding on to Atticus' hand tightly as he did though. There had to be good reason, it wasn't a panicked rush but more excited. It was enough to make Seneca start to laugh a bit as he attempted to keep up through the crowd. "Atti! Where are we going?" He asked quickly between laughs and trying not to bump into people on the way through. He stopped in the room though, looking around even more confused. The look on his face was pure confusion as he tried to figure out just what he was supposed to be looking at in here. Enough he didn't think that maybe there was more beyond this room that was really the intention of their rush over here. "Atticus, am I missing something? Did someone give you too many sweets?" He asked with a raised brow as he watched his friend and the bookshelf. He would have asked him what he was doing leaning on the shelf, had it not moved and opened to the outside. "This isn't some creepy passage prank thing is it?" They always did things, and this secret leading him around felt like it could end with a "Ha! I got you!" moment from his friend.

Instead they stepped outside into a garden he was sure he hadn't seen on the way there. And not a creepy and overgrown garden either. The lights that decorated the garden, the sound of the fountain, it was a calming scene. A major contrast to the bustling party inside. A feeling that was rare if not impossible to have ever achieved in the Capitol. In the night with just the lanterns to light the area it didn't look all that unkempt, and even if it did just the fact that nobody else was there made it just that great. Certainly they couldn't achieve this in Thirteen. Just the outside part would be impossible, let alone the fact that the only pretty things in that hole of a district were Atticus and Lia. He was speechless. Which for Seneca was a feat of it's own. Speechless out of awe even, and he only moved his gaze from searching the area when Atticus removed the mask. He gave a bright, sincere smile at that. "Atti... this... This is amazing. How'd you find this here?" He finally asked after taking another second to absorb it all. "And us alone..." He started, but there wasn't a lot that would come out of his mouth. Atticus was up to something, and had a beautiful setting in which to do it in. He was shocked that it existed, and honestly impressed. The garden could make for a beautiful romantic setting for a production of sorts.

"Again with the following? There's more?" The question was filled with excitement as he followed his friend. The mystery itself was a draw to follow, and the fact that if this was the first part the second must be even cooler. He kept up better this time other than stopping here and there to look at something. He gave a bit of a giggle at his friend's cheesy grin, a more cute and less practiced laugh than usual. He did stop as Atticus let go of his hand once more, looking around the area. The whole set up felt intentional. It felt romantic enough. And any type of closeness had been reduced recently, which made this all the more special without even knowing what was going to happen. Quietly he moved after Atti and inside. He couldn't keep his eyes on one thing, instead shifting between the delicately strung lights and the simple yet elegantly set up table. And then there was the gorgeous man behind it all. His icy gaze landed on Atticus, his smile wide and a very pleased and bright look about him. He came closer to Atticus.

"What do I think...?" He came over, taking the wide open arms as an invitation. Instead of trying to find words right off, he leaned closer and gave him a gentle kiss. That, at least as far as he was concerned, said more than his mind could manage in that moment. He was still trying to work out the ultimate goal, but the whole set up was just stunning. "I say you are the most adorably sweet man I have ever met." He looked to him with a smile, a real and appreciative smile. "And you've outdone yourself. Many times over."

Of course he was asking questions, his lover was being so secretive it was worrying him. No creepy pranks, that was an encouragement. But there were all sorts of other possibilities. One thing was very certain though, somebody had fed his Atticus far too many sweets while he wasn't looking. Of course he would never let his friend get so hyper. All of this running around was already starting to get him tired. There was already a bit of relief when he was able to take the mask off. Covering his face wasn't a particularly loved thing. He thought he looked too pretty to cover, Atticus too, and the whole thing had been a bother trying to find something suitable. He understood the reason but he still wasn't a fan. He had no way of knowing just how good things were shaping up for his friend's plan, though the smile on his face would assure him that Seneca was not unhappy. Even the secrecy of it all didn't quell the amusement he felt about what was going on.

"Our lives are full of happy accidents. This one couldn't be any different. It wouldn't be us if things went as expected." Seneca commented with a wide grin at that. How could he not guess that his friend had stumbled on this place by accident. or that this had been planned much longer than tonight. He smiled to Atticus and took his hand. "Some day it will really just be us, and it won't require sneaking away to do so." He said quietly. He hated how separated they were. Not to mention how cramped and public all of District Thirteen actually was. Between the kids, visitors, and the tight spaces it was hardly the romantic and beautiful scene this was. Seneca wished he'd been able to find this place and set up a good dinner for Atti. He hadn't, and he was glad that Atticus had. They needed this, badly, and he knew it very well. Sure they both loved the kids and the rest of their friends and family. Sure there were reasons for everything. But that didn't mean there was a lack of good for these moments. Or that they weren't necessary. As far as Seneca knew this was just a cute little getaway and that was enough to lift his spirits and at the same time make him wish that all of these problems could be over finally.

The lack of response made Seneca give another laugh as he quickly followed and tried to keep up. It felt like they were kids again, taking turns leading the other around without sharing much information. The other side was always something crazy or fun or exciting. Seneca had spent a lot of time following Atti around like this, struggling to keep up both physically and keep up mentally. Trying to guess the next move or the next turn. Those times when the only thing that mattered in his mind was where they were going and the fun they would have there. The world didn't matter. Nothing mattered but Atticus and a fun time. So often he longed for those feelings to come back. For those times of childish innocence back. When they saw the Games as just an art. When they didn't see the worst of the worst, didn't have to hide or keep secrets to save their lives. Sure they had secrets as children. Seneca still kept secrets for Atticus from all those years ago. But back then the secret of taking two cookies when you were told to only take one was the biggest deal. Sure it might have gotten them a stern look but it was hardly the crime against the Capitol that they committed daily just by remaining in existence. He wished his biggest secrets today were taking too many cookies. Oh how much simpler their lives could be if that was the way...

"Most adorably sweet and awesome man there ever could be in this world. I wouldn't lie to you. Have I ever?" He asked with a grin, though stopped and shook his head. "Wait. Don't answer that, I've lied about tiny things but I swear this one isn't a lie. Not at all. You're amazing." He laughed, loosely laying his arms over his friend's shoulders as he watched him. His lies were always silly, more like little fibbing here and there. He knew for sure that Atti could probably remember that one time when they were like, six years old, where he may have said one little un-truth. That's how they were. The concept of letting the other forget any little thing was just wrong. Seneca looked down, shaking his head some but he didn't really argue. He didn't think he was that awesome, although he was definitely adorable, but he wouldn't dare argue that point with Atticus. Not here. Not now. Not on this night. He lifted his gaze to meet Atticus' once more, watching intently as he tried to figure out what he meant. Just begun? Seneca grinned but let go of him when he started to move away. "There's more? Then you must really be double outdoing yourself. If that's a thing." He shrugged a bit.

A hint of concern crossed the man's face though at the silent moment. He would have asked what was wrong if his friend hadn't finally turned around to speak. His interest was caught, though he looked with a perplexed and even a slight head tilt like a curious puppy as he tried to figure out just where Atti was going with this. "Of course I remember. That was like... the most important day ever..." He trailed off though, letting Atti speak. His smile did return with the story. The way Atticus told it. The way he spoke of things. Seneca had always loved his story telling ability. His voice, the genuine smiles and emotion to his face, how he got just as lost in the narrative as anyone. He could remember the details clearly himself, coming to take the other boy's hand and bring him to play, but something about hearing it from Atticus was that much more special. It hadn't been much to him. He was social, he was friendly, and this new kid just needed to come paint with him. Something about seeing the tears had drawn a young Seneca to the boy. In true child fashion he'd simply demanded the boy come with him and let Seneca make him feel better. Apparently it had worked. From the first day they were dragging each other around it was only natural to continue on.

It couldn't be helped. The bit of giggling that echoed the child in him at the thought of their little paint war. The best part, he'd still do it today if there were paint around. "You looked great covered in paint too. And I hope being friends meant a good thing though. Right?" He gave a concerned look, worried where that comment might lead. But the gentle touch was enough to say it definitely was meant positively. He gave the sweetest of little smiles and closed his eyes. "I didn't think dragging a crying kid around would make me this great of a friend... I just thought it felt right. You were crying and... I didn't like it." He looked back to him, meeting his gaze once more as he reached up to gently take his hand. "There isn't a thing I would regret about us, you know. It all worked out right." He said, his voice quiet but gentle as he looked into his friend's eyes. He had hoped, he had wished that the bad wouldn't come up. That those painful nights had never happened, and that he could just forget them. But they came and Seneca couldn't deny it happened. He never could. If it weren't for Atticus though, he might have been dead. Those nights the boy not only saved him from losing himself emotionally, but protected him from dangers in ways neither truly understood. Atticus had been there when his real father left, and had been there when the attempted "replacement" turned out to be more violent than most in the Capitol.

It hadn't been long after his blood father had ditched. The pathetic old coward had picked another family over Seneca and his mother and the man would never forgive that. Even in his last days Seneca would never call that man a father. Simply, Seneca holds a tight grudge and just won't let go. Deep in his mother's depression over the ordeal, which Seneca also blamed on his ex-father, came Cal. He had a longer name but Seneca couldn't be bothered to remember any more than three letters. And truly he wished he could forget that much as well. It was his mother's depression that let that man in. The man who came solely to use the broken little family in their vulnerable situation. He was hardly the top of the Capitol but he had come promising to raise Seneca "as his own". Unfortunately for Seneca his methods of child raising were none too pleasant. Although the man had grown up in the Capitol, he had also been a Peacekeeper to settle some family debts. Even a shortened enlistment had reinforced some already violent tendencies. Thus leaving the gentle and pure Capitol artistic Seneca with a violent man to deal with and a mother who hated to even look at him. And they went at it for almost anything. A grade below a perfect score, getting beat up by bullies at school and not being tough enough, the fact that he was nice to the family avox, and then for his choice to be a Gamemaker. That brought a lot of horrible comments which included an "If you like the Games so much, go volunteer for tribute. I'd love to see you torn apart in one of those arenas you so love." Seneca had nightmares almost every night after a while just from the verbal abuse alone, not even considering the physical. It was almost once a week by the time they were settled in that Seneca felt the wrath of a drunk ex-peacekeeper using a Capitolite who was too depressed to notice it. Not that Seneca blamed his mother.

There were only two real father figures in his life. That he really looked up to. Firstly, Cade. The family avox who had been there since before he was even born. Seneca didn't understand what he had done to get there, or why he couldn't speak just yet, but he would eventually. It was the step-father who finally told him just how 'pathetic' the avox was. Not that Seneca believed him though. Then there was Atticus' father. The man who both could look to. It was Atticus' parents that Seneca felt attached to. That he loved and went to when he was upset, that he went to when he was proud and excited. It was Cade and Atti's father he went to in excitement when he got the Gamemaker position. Sure he had shared with his mother, but it was Atti and his family who he expected the support and congratulations from. They were his real family, and he wouldn't trade them for the world.

Seneca gave a small nod and leaned quietly against him and closed his eyes. "He would have killed me if it wasn't for you and your family..." He whispered, wrapping his arms around his friend at that. He didn't ever want to let him go. Especially now as he fought back the tears that started from just thinking about those years. But the smile began to form again as the story moved on. He couldn't figure out where Atti was going with this. Why all of this reminiscing. Memories and compliments... Was his friend dying and just trying to let it on him slowly and less painfully? Did he turn out with the same condition as his mother...? The worries started to grow but he had to push them back. No, he wouldn't have done all this just to share that news. Atti could deal some cruel pranks at times, as he could as well, but that just would be too far. He looked up to Atticus as he smiled again, nodding some. "I expected him to throw us out the way he caught us... it... It was a crazy day... And he even took you home when you were too sick to stay. He didn't have to. He's the great one there, he is the one who really helped. I just did a lot of sneaking around." He was one for keeping a bit of modesty. A lot more in person than when projecting his Gamemaker personality. "Back when to us the Games were just art..." He whispered, but made sure not to speak up too loud. He was thankful for Nero no doubt. The man had helped them, encouraged them, mentored them into the industry. From making mutts at age twelve, to seeing him as the instructor for Games classes in high school, he'd been a part of their lives for years. Seneca wasn't sure where he would be if he hadn't found the Games building that day. If they hadn't gone in, or those technicians hadn't been awed by the sickly young boys who entered their workplace. So many what ifs, and the results he could think of left him that much more thankful for what had actually happened.

Silence fell over the young man once more as Atticus moved away and the deep and sad tone returned. He let go of his friend, watching him walk over. Atti's mother... their mother... had meant more than either could speak in words. It was often she came to mind. Quite often that he thought of things in terms of what she might say about such a behavior. He'd started to believe she might even be a bit disappointed in him even. He didn't have to see his friend's face to know there were tears. There would be anyways, he was sure of it no matter how much either fought it. When she'd died not even Nero could distract them. He tried and oh Seneca was thankful for his trying. But it had taken the boys together. The nights that followed were rough, but Seneca refused to leave his friend's side. Even when he was pushed away. They both hurt, and it was together that they made it. As it always was and he hoped it would be. Life could throw them the worst of the worst, but they'd pull through it together. They always did. Wiping the one tear that escaped his own watery eyes, Seneca moved toward Atticus. He reached an arm gently and quietly around his friend's shoulder for some show of support. As he looked to Atticus his face shared in bitter sweet moment of his comments. No amount of acting could produce the concern he held in his expression, or the care for his friend.

"That's just what we do Atti. We pick up the pieces, and we fix it. You don't have to say thank you, you never did. Every little smile on that gorgeous face, every laugh, every moment we are together and you are you is enough thanks. Those times make up so much more than words ever could, and I love those." He leaned closer to give him a light kiss on the cheek, lingering close to him. "It was worth sorting the thousands of pieces. You were worth every second it took." The tone his voice held as he spoke was soft, as sincere as a man could be. A deep caring that couldn't be manufactured or acted, that only happened after years together and just how much they had both seen and been a part of. With closed eyes he let his friend go, leaning on the railing himself.

"And you know she is proud of you. That she would look at you today and see the amazing man you have become. You'd make her smile so big Atti. And she knew you would. I don't doubt it one bit. She was smarter than all of us combined." Seneca did grin at that as he watched Atticus. This whole garden scene, he'd like to think she contributed. He would like to agree that she was a part of it, even watching them with smiles. That was the image he chose to believe anyways.

As their eyes met once more, and Seneca echoed the words back to him, it wasn't because they needed the words. "I love you" wasn't spoken between the two like they didn't know. Their eyes said it all. The way they looked at each other. The way it all felt. The way this moment focused on the two of them and nothing else. Nobody else. His gaze moved over Atticus as he spoke, considering his words and thinking about just what he meant though. Things were so much deeper than he thought tonight would be. He wouldn't complain though, it was good to really talk. To seriously be together with no interruption. Enough to mention such things. But he looked back up quietly and a small frown fell on his face. "Despite how painful it was for me" really stuck out to the young man. He'd messed up, and he did feel bad. But Atticus hadn't said just how much it had hurt. Not before. He looked away, just wanting to apologize for how dumb he had been. For how he had hurt his friend. "Atticus... Atti I'm so sorry." He said quietly, shaking his head. "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to cause you pain." He whispered, and his gaze lowered to the ground for quite some time. He didn't want to hurt his friend he really hadn't meant for that.How could even his friend move on so quickly.. From how he had been hurting for that time, to how good Seneca was again. To how important he was. He wasn't sure why this had turned to a make Seneca feel good day, and if he didn't feel like he was interrupting he would have intervened with making Atticus feel good stories too.

The children... the children were a good result. He didn't regret them at all. Not a bit about them. He wouldn't even take back his rebellion involvement if he could. Truthfully he wouldn't change a thing given a chance. Except the fact that he still wasn't living in thirteen. That he wasn't with Atticus all the time. Seneca gave small nods of agreement at Atticus. He couldn't wait, but he knew they could survive. Even if it took a little longer than either wanted. "They can separate us physically, but they can't stop us from loving each other. From being us, Sene and Atti together forever." Just as they had promised years ago. And just as Seneca had promised his friend, he never had to be truly alone. He never wanted him to be alone.

"Well of course we will be together again, and nothing will change us." Seneca assured him. He was a smarter guy, but he didn't immediately catch on to where Atticus was going with that. Of course he would promise that. The only thing that would prevent him from returning to Atti would be death itself.

It wasn't until his friend dropped to one knee that it finally started to click. That everything started to work into place for him. His gaze searched between Atticus on the ground, the ring, Atticus' face, the garden, back to the ring again. He couldn't settle long enough immediately to really take in the ring. He was stuck between "how dumb am I for not figuring this out" and "he is totally the most amazing person in the entire world". Then the words came, the real question. The real, important question. The one he didn't know how to respond to. Not that he didn't know the answer, but how did he show that answer without sounding like a complete idiot. How could he accept without just saying "yes" in a speechless moment. His face was a mixed mess of emotions. Shock, awe, loving and pure joy. His mouth gaping open as he tried to find words was likely not his most attractive moment. But it definitely said "I'm not going to say no".

Seneca wanted to speak. He wanted to say yes and throw himself into Atticus' arms. But the words didn't come out of his mouth, and for the moment he didn't move. Couldn't move. The wide eyed and surprised young man was at a loss. It shouldn't have surprised him that much. For how close they were. How long it had been. All of it was leading up to here. The stories, the way he spoke, it wasn't an inflate Seneca's ego day. Everything was leading to them being together. How they together were so much more than they could be apart. Troublesome kids, friends who got each other through the worst of times, the ones who refused to let a rebellion and the threat of possible death keep them entirely apart. They may have been fools. They probably were. But they were fools together, and Seneca wouldn't trade this fool for anything. It was about them. Together and forever. This moment in the garden, the emotional memories, sticking together and nothing else mattered. Nobody outside mattered, and for this moment Seneca forgot the rest of the world. Snow was a distant if not forgotten thought. Rebels, Thirteen, those didn't matter. They weren't rebels right now. They were those two loving boys against the world together. Stealing cookies, throwing paint, running around dragging the other around. It was all of those little things. The things that Atti had brought back that made this moment so different.

He felt like a child again, standing there trying his best not to bounce around with excitement. There wasn't a need to act adult or proper here. They were those best friends, those cute troublesome kids just having fun. The world could wait for this moment to end. And he wished it would take its time coming to a close. The best moment. One he'd dreamed of but feared would never come. Here was was in a secret garden faced with his lover's beautiful smile, an amazingly made ring, and a question to answer that so many longed to have the chance to consider. His smile brightened into a more intelligent look as he wrapped his mind around it. His gaze remained on Atticus and his answer started with the slightest of nods as he still searched for the words.

Finally, after what felt like forever of thinking it through, he blurted out what he felt was the lamest "Yes!" that one could manage. Much too simple, Atti deserved better. He took a breath and finally looked to the ring for a moment, noticing the red details which made his smile that much wider. His blue gaze lifted again and he gave a much stronger nod. "I wouldn't dream of marrying anyone else. Atti... you have my heart forever. I would marry you any day. And I would say yes over and over and over again." Seneca spoke with a softness to his voice. Such a sweet and pure sounding voice. There was nobody to impress or be strong for. There was no reason to hold back the couple of joyful tears that now started to form. It was just his Atti. Who probably would think his happy crying face was adorable. That and the blushing that had started as well.

"Atticus Velus I will marry you. And we will be together forever. Me, and the most amazing person this world could create. The wonderful man who made all of this happen, who always manages to surprise me. The person who makes me smile just by seeing their face. You are the greatest man in this world." He wanted it to be very clear how he felt. very sincere. He didn't want a question as to whether he truly wanted to. If he really wanted that. Forever was a long time, and he hoped it would be a very long time. Atti and Sene were already amazing, married they could be unstoppable. Just the look on Atti's face made Seneca's heart melt from the adorable features. And he hadn't even had the time to examine the ring or find out that Atti had made it himself either.

There was nothing he could think of that could make this night any better.

The surprise kept Seneca fairly speechless. Except for his actual answer, he found himself once more at a loss. Staring even as Atticus stood. There was a wide eyed look, but one of joy and excitement. It was taking everything he had not to jump and squeal with excitement about the idea. About the fact that it had finally come or that he had really actually agreed to it. He watched Atticus get up before he looked down to the ring itself. There had been so much going through his mind as he tried to come up with an answer that he hadn't given the amazing little piece of art the attention it deserved. The thoughts were racing and he couldn't settle on one thing. Between memories of the past, possibilities of the future, the magic of the moment surrounding them. He would have attacked Atticus with hugs and kisses had he not still been in shock. Finally though he lowered his gaze to the ring as he put it on his finger. The little details of red stood out as soon as he actually looked at it. The bright smile eemed to be stuck on his face. Like it could never go away, almost nothing in this moment could break it down.

"Atticus... you made this?" Seneca asked. Not in shock that Atticus was able to make something so smooth, so clean and perfect. Rather amazement that he had put in such effort. How wonderful it actually was. He had no reason to doubt his Atticus but it was only instinctual to ask. And then that he had taken parts from his mother's ring... he didn't know how to say how much that meant to him. How important that was to him just as it was to Atticus. Marilla was the best mother he had ever had. The best parent he had ever had. His blood mother... she was mother by blood only. For the sake of their sanity and avoiding trouble he'd call her mother, but Marilla was truly his mother. She'd raised him as long as she could, and the closest to a parent since had been Nero. The man who tried desperately to be there for the kids no matter the fact that he didn't have a reason to. But then, Marilla hadn't had a reason to help poor Seneca. Not really. Sure he was Atticus' friend, but that didn't mean she had to take him as her own either. And she had such limited time with Atticus that taking in another child should have been the last thing on her mind and yet there she was. When he was down and at his worst moments. Scared, hurt, crying and giving up it was Atticus and Marilla who took him and held him. The ones who cleaned him up without asking for anything in return. He couldn't really explain what it meant but he wished he could.

"You used your mom's ring? Atti... that... It's... Wow." He examined the ring with a bright smile. The whole thing was perfect. He wouldn't have changed a thing. "Atticus it's just perfect. She would love it. You know she would, and you're always so creative." He could have kept going with the compliments, but with the tight hug he just simply closed his eyes and leaned into the hug. He reached his arms around Atticus, and for a quiet minute he laid his head against Atticus' shoulder. Being held and being so close was better than most any words. That closeness that was so rare, he would take every second he could have here. Words would have simply distracted from the moment. His stuttering speech wouldn't have added any more than just how relaxed he became leaning against his Atticus.

He lifted his gaze as Atticus spoke again, smiling in agreement as he nodded. "You know me too well. Red is perfect. Just like everything else here. I love it Atti. I really really do. I love it, I love you, I love all of this." He stood back just far enough to look into his Atti's eyes. He kept his arms around him though, and kept the energetic look to his eyes. "And you know, the initials are good for me. Simple, but very clear. For us, for the people who matter." Even without considering Snow and the dangers of their lives. He was a simple person in some things and the initials were perfect for him. He lifted his hand to look at the ring for a second before Atticus came in to kiss him. He closed his eyes, giving a bit of a kiss back to him. He didn't know who to thank for the opportunity of this moment but it was the best he could think of. He didn't want to hide himself and Atticus. He didn't want to hide their love. And at least here he didn't have to.

Not until Atticus finally moved away. He watched him move away with a curious look. He had already forgotten about the little table and the drinks. So into their conversation and those important moments that he had forgotten there was more around them. Quietly he came over to the table, watching Atticus pour the drinks intently. He didn't want to take his eyes off his Atticus. "Thank you." He said quietly as he took the glass from his hand, watching with admiration. Seneca wasn't a heavy drinker, but a nice wine with his Atti was the right way to drink. The best way. If there was any reason Seneca would drink, this would be it. He followed him over, looking outside for a second before he sat down beside Atticus. Of course he sat just about as close as he physically could without laying across his lap, almost instantly leaning against his new fiancé. Going back inside didn't even cross his mind. It was the open arms invitation and the smile that had his attention. He did take a small sip of his drink at first though, looking to Atticus. "And you remembered my favorite. You are so amazing." Not that he doubted, but he wanted to make sure he knew that he appreciated it.

Taking a deep breath Seneca laid his head against Atticus' shoulder and closed his eyes. He was just trying to think about it. What did he chare with his friend? Even the grin didn't ease the bit of worry and embarrassment there was. Now that he knew the intention of this night, it seemed silly that he had thought of anything else. Now that he had heard what Atti wanted, the negative thoughts didn't even seem to make sense. Why would he do all of this for such negative things? He looked up quietly after a bit, a sad look in his eyes. "I didn't know what I was thinking... I didn't know what to think. But Atti... All I could think of was that you were going... You were sick and it was bad. I just... I could only think of the worst. It's dumb I know..." He shook his head and looked away from him again and closed his eyes. "I feel really dumb thinking like that. Of course you wouldn't do all this to tell me you were... dying or something." He could hardly even make himself say it. Just the idea made him want to cry even knowing it wasn't true. Even knowing that Atticus wasn't going to leave it was still hard to think about. "I know... I know... I'm stuck with you and your silly face forever." He managed to tease and look back up, giving him a light kiss on the lips. "Though I do love that silly face." He added to be sure it was clear.

"Well Atti. I wouldn't want to change it now. I mean, if you are happy, and I am happy... then it wasn't really a mistake. Maybe just... Maybe I knew it would turn out better this way." Sure that would give him more credit than he really earned but he would try it for sure. If Atti gave him the credit that would be great but he really didn't know. "Those kids are everything... I couldn't imagine any of it without them. I guess... I did make the right choice. It just sucks knowing that I hurt you Atti. I never want to hurt you." He shook his head at that, but reached his free arm around Atticus to stay close to him. He was quiet for a minute, sipping at his wine and following Atti's gaze out to the garden. He stopped mid drink though, glancing over toward him. He stared, a confused look crossing his face at that. He didn't get what he was talking about, other than another child. The young man shook his head a bit. "Atticus, I don't know... I don't know this person and we already have two..." He started, looking down again. "And maybe your friend wouldn't want to... just... maybe we could but right now... I don't even know when I could make it to sty out here for good. We should at least wait until then to decide." And that wasn't even considering the impending war. Bringing a child in to a starting war just sounded wrong to Seneca, but he wasn't about to rule out the idea completely either. He wasn't against another child, but wanted some time to really discuss it. And their special night wasn't quite the right time.

Luckily it seemed that Atticus agreed, and moved along just as well. "Just us two... and the door is locked. Or hidden. Either way nobody is going to come out here and interrupt this." He nodded a bit and closed his eyes at the kiss. Expecting another small thing, he was only slightly surprised with the deeper kiss. He leaned closer, not letting him go any time soon. He kept his arm around Atticus, only letting go as Atticus would. They didn't get this any day, not even when they were together.

Seneca could see the hurt in his lover's eyes. That look on his face that no matter how much he tried to hide it, or how positive they were speaking, Seneca could still see it. He could still tell. He reached up, quiet as he rubbed his thumb over Atti's cheek to wipe away the couple of tears he saw. He gave a sweet smile as he tried not to let himself fall into tears as well. He didn't want to turn into a tear filled mess in their moment, it wasn't his prettiest face. But as he looked into Atti's eyes he found it harder not to share the same emotion. How bitter sweet that subject was. Loving but so sad, something so large missing like that. "She is proud. I know it. And... you turned out okay too." He gave a bit of a cheesy grin just to try and lighten the moment a bit. He knew Marilla, she wouldn't want them to spend their moment lingering on tears over her. She was gone, but not really gone gone. And he was sure she was the most popular person in whatever afterlife awaited them all. If ghosts could make cookies, most definitely. He grinned a bit and nodded, though the smile fell to a sweeter more sincere one as he rested his hand on his friend's cheek. "You wish you could see her. That you could hold her and hug her and we could run into the house like old times with stories to tell. All the little things we loved, that she loved, I know. I miss it too..." He said quietly, keeping his gaze locked on Atti's. He wouldn't even mention how much he wished their children could meet their grandmother.

It was the returning smile, the warm feeling of Atti's embrace that kept tears from spilling down his own face. He closed his eyes and laid his head on Atti's shoulder still. "I do love it Atti, every bit of this. Every little bit of planning that went into it..." He stood up straight but didn't move his arms from around Atticus until he had to. "You were always brilliant. Amazingly so. There is no doubt about it. And this... You're still as wonderfully and gorgeously brilliant as you always have been. You just keep outdoing yourself it's beautiful." He said with such admiration as he looked at his now fiance. He was smart himself, but he was always in awe of Atticus. Always had been, and likely always would be. He sure hoped so. "You know what makes this the best thing you've done yet?" He started, watching him carefully.

"You did this. All of this, down to the little details. Maybe with a little help, but you did it. And it's real... it's a real Atticus work and you did it for you. You did it for us, and nobody else." Seneca smiled widely as he sat down beside Atticus at that. "It's so special, and it's so free. Things I haven't felt since we were kids bugging Nero and running around like the crazy people we were... This is so great Atti you don't even know because I don't know how to say how I feel without sounding like a dork." Out here, right now, nobody could tell them no. There was no overseeing power that said that idea didn't fit the image. He could tell just by how it went that all of this, these ideas, were from the free Atti. It was hard to believe that just back behind the walls of that mansion a party was going on. Or that earlier that day he was meeting with President Snow, or that any of that existed. It felt isolated in such a wonderful way. The scene, the ring, the drinks... and of course his Atticus. That best friend who had saved his life far too many times to count. Who he could curse at, and laugh with, and cry to all in the same day and it would all be just fine. Without that piece this was just a garden. Just a glass of wine. Just a neat looking ring. It was the cheesy grins, sparkling eyes, and messy hair that sat next to him that truly made the night.

"You know you could have served water and I still would love it. But no. I should learn shouldn't I? Never doubt an Atticus and his memory. For the important things." Seneca laughed with a bit of a shake to his head. The important things. Being favorite wine, favorite sweets, favorite colors. Maybe his birthday month. The little details. Who cared about the big picture in a moment like this anyways? He was sitting in a secret garden, at a secret party, with his secret forbidden lover. Forbidden as far as the Capitol was concerned but that just added a bit of an excitement to the whole thing. Just one more level of amazing to their story, which he'd have to write some day. Some day when he didn't have to worry about being caught. He was sure it would make an excellent piece of work, a kind of love story he knew tons enjoyed. And Seneca was all about telling stories. And Atticus had succeeded in his goals, too. For this moment, this night, Seneca felt like the most important person in the world. He felt like nothing could reach them and that nobody could even come close. Maybe the children, but that wasn't in question.

A part of him wanted to smack Atticus for laughing at his moment of pain and fear. Scold him for being rude when he had put him through such an emotional mess. But as he looked up from leaning on his friend he just gave a shake of his head. "Honestly you got the secret part down a little too good. Of course the proposal had been enough to appease his fearful mind. Keep him from anger. And the kiss was enough to make up for the amusement Atti seemed to feel over his fear. Not that he was truly angry to begin with. "If you went anywhere I'd have to drag you back and that wouldn't be pretty. And my beard isn't silly it's cool. And fun." He crossed his arms and looked away with a mock pouting look to his face. "I am beautiful, not silly. And you owe me something, you got me wearing pink tonight." He said defensively. Mainly just pushing his boundaries with how much he could get Atti to say to make him happy. Because he was silly and still the best friend that loved to push his friend's buttons. Even on a romantic night. He wouldn't be Seneca if he didn't.

"I'll give it a fair thought, I promise." He said, the more serious look and tone of voice returning as he looked over once more. All silliness aside, he knew why Atticus had suggested it. Would almost beg for it in another night. He was sure that would come. He could understand, but he didn't want to bring a child into this mess right now. At least not with him so far away. And he didn't want to miss the important things either. The early moments of life changed so quickly... Being gone for most of the year would mean missing so much. He watched Atti though and he could see how much he wanted it. How much it would mean to him. That was enough to make him start to consider it. He glanced to his glass, which was still only half finished. He had talked too much to drink most of it. He took another good sip before he reached over to set it down anyways, though his gaze never left Atticus' face. He smiled to him, closing his eyes and totally relaxed now. He leaned into his kiss just slightly and took in the moment. The feeling of being loved like that. Just the smallest touch was improvement on their normal arrangement of video calls.

Lightly he rubbed Atti's side, looking up only when Atticus moved away. He shook his head a bit. "I don't remember the last... that means it's been far too long." He whispered. He tried not to think about where Lucius was or what he might be doing. That always seemed to pull them away from each other. That and the not so private nature of District Thirteen left their moments together there as minimally intimate. "Atti... thank you. For all of this. For caring like this." He said quietly and looked to him with a wide but loving gaze. "I wouldn't change anything. Not about tonight, not about us, and definitely nothing about you. You're perfect. Even your little flaws are just... perfect." He couldn't think of a better word really. Perfect was the best he could.