#burntodds

[nghtmarish]

@burntodds ; negan / 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 ; 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.

    𝐡𝐞  𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭  𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞  𝐡𝐞  𝐰𝐚𝐬  𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞.   not  just  alive,  stitched  back  together  and  the  victor  of  the  fiftieth  hunger  games,  it  all  come  down  to  a  matter  of  seconds  and  he  could  have  quite  easily  be  returning  to  district  twelve  in  a  wooden  box  rather  than  on  the  train.   but  something  still  felt  off,  like  everyone  was    𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠   him  and  he  didn't  exactly  know  why.   haymitch  had  done  what  everyone  had  wanted  him  to,  he  had  played  their  game  and  won  it.   why  didn't  it  feel  over  yet?   getting  a  chance  to  talk  with  negan  before  his  victor's  interview  with  casear  flickerman,  he  was  just  hoping  to  get  some    𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬   and  he  needed  to  just  know  how  to  handle  this.   he  had  won  against  double  the  tributes,  losing  a  friend  from  home  and  the  final  fight  that  he  had  thought  would  be  his  end,  the  only  thing  that  had  saved  him  was  the  forcefield  that  had  really  worked  in  his  favour.   this  couldn't  be  about  the  forcefield,  could  it?   they  designed  it  and  he  didn't  even  mean  to  use  it  to  his  advantage,  he  just  collapsed  due  to  his  injuries,  how  was  he  supposed  to  know  the  district  one  girl  would  throw  her  axe?   it  didn't  matter  anymore,  he  was  going  home  and  he  could  just  get  through  the  last  few  things  before  he  could  be  back  with  his  family.

    𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬  𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦  𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧,   ignoring  the  way  he  seemed  to  still  ache  as  for  some  reason,  he  couldn't  meet  his  mentor's  eyes  as  he  looked  anywhere  else  from  him,   "   bet  you  didn't  think  we'd  be  seeing  each  other  again,    "   haymitch  tried  to  sound  somewhat  humourous  as  he  chanced  a  look  at  him,  forcing  some  sort  of  a  smile  as  he  did.   shifting  in  his  seat,  teeth  pulling  at  his  bottom  lip  for  a  moment  and  he  didn't  look  away  from  him,   "   whatever  you  wanna  say,  just  say  it.   i  can  handle  it,    "

[esc0rted]

the tilt of her head, the furrow of her bleach - blonde brow — she is blissfully ignorant. she stands there, escort to a district that has made for a historical and career - changing win for them both, faced with much less . . . enthusiasm than she'd anticipated. surely it cannot be personal bias? she had insisted that at the very least his efforts deserved her gratitude and congratulations, but she's barely gotten his name out of her mouth before being silenced with a single gesture. “ pardon? have i . . . interrupted something? “

@burntodds : hush. raise a finger in a gesture to silence my muse. [ from seneca crane on @burntodds ]

[esc0rted]

everything is calm in her dreams. only in her dreams. for many in thirteen, sleep is an enemy they must fight lest they be confronted with the bloody ghosts of their past. effie's privilege is peace in the night. though peace is admittedly difficult to find in the dreadfully uncomfortable chairs they keep in these hospital rooms. she stirs awake for the third time with the beep of a monitor, awed when she opens her eyes to find a groggy blue - gray gaze looking right back at her. " katniss. " she moves from her seat in an instant, to her tribute's bedside, and takes her hand without a second thought. " oh, you're finally awake. they wanted you left alone to recover, but i insisted you be permitted somebody here with you. "

@burntodds : visiting hours: upon waking in a hospital bed, one of the muses turns their head, and finds the other sleeping in an uncomfortable chair by their bedside. [ from katniss everdeen on @burntodds ]

[esc0rted]

how very unlike her, to crave a moment of calm. she, who thrives on the vitality of a room full of dancing and laughter. of an evening spent in true glamour, under the heat of the lights. it's what she does best, but even a seasoned professional needs to recharge. she has found her solace on the nearest empty balcony, seated with a drink in hand as the music hums on from behind. with one leg crossed neatly over the other, she gives her feet a rest from the six - inch gold heels that have paired so perfectly alongside her metallic dress ( though she would never dare take them off ).

her gaze lifts as footsteps signal the arrival of company. god knows that twelve's rare victor is the last face she would have imagined she'd see here at this hour. negan smith had claimed his victory and transferred out of twelve long before she'd ever stepped a fateful foot there, but she's always been keenly aware of him and his legacy. not to mention his reputation. " negan ━━ this is certainly a surprise. "

@burntodds : stepping back: while they’re both attending a particularly lively and crowded party, both muses, craving a moment of peace and fresh air, accidentally go to the same balcony. unwilling to leave, they sit together, and begin to talk as the party spins on behind their backs. [ from negan smith ]