#games. 128

[rustedblade]

no flush at night to sound your return, i still pretend you're only out of sight ...

i still pretend you're only out of sight in another room, smiling at your phone

[rustedblade]

like how well decorated cafes became packed with couples still in their honeymoon phase on valentine’s day or bakery’s had mile long lines of capitolite’s waiting for sugar cookies during christmas, bars were the place people flocked to at the launch of every games. and it was always painfully depressing, but rust welcomed the buzz of alcohol as it settled into his bloodstream, it was better than the anger, much better than empty feeling that haunted him when there wasn’t anger. 

but there was a problem he hadn’t prepared for until he saw sigma; how the alcohol would mix with the anger. rust abandoned his spot at the bar to walk up to the man who had been leaning against the wall, holding a drink of his own, and without a word, grabbed the glass in his hands just to throw it down with enough force to shatter the glass, alcohol splattering every which way. “why the fuck are you still hanging around here?! you and my brother don’t have decency to go farther than one mile from the tower so no one has to be reminded of your sorry fucking existences??” 

@sigmardor​

[rustedblade]

coming back to the tower felt worse when it wasn’t on his bike. his feet dragged on the pavement, just as foreboding as skin skidding on hot, sticky asphalt. he felt heavier with every step. and now, he finally understood how hard it was to come back.

he swore he could only hear the sounds of his own footsteps on that path. his own, and then suddenly, someone else’s. footsteps that sounded almost.. familiar rung through his head like a headache. they belonged to honey. his baby sister, the one he was pretending wasn’t about to enter the arena by morning. he couldn’t do anything but stare. he was angry. angry at himself for not coming sooner, for leaving in the first place. he was angry at honey, like a father, disappointed in a child for doing something so reckless to land themself in such a damning situation. it wasn’t her fault, but the little baggie of white powder she clutched close sure as hell was.

“what do you think you’re doing, exactly?”

@honeybellerose​