drinks for two [with kale!]

[4E484C] [839979] [E2FFF1]

It was a small pub that was tucked back in the corner of an empty road. He had seen it only once before but his mind immediately told him to avoid it, thus avoiding any danger that may have followed. Unfortunately for the small bar, it certainly had a 'delinquent' look to it, one that Eric would have always kept away from simply because he was the complete opposite. In fact, bars in general were not really common for the young man. Alcohol had only truly entered his system on one occasion, one that he would never forget surely. It was the night that he held her in his arms, their lungs gasping for breath at similar intervals, their hearts seeming to beat as one. In his eyes, at least. That was the night that he was intertwined with the only victor that there ever would be for the 58th Games - Lethe Turner. And of all places to end up, it was in the sparkly clean bathtub that some rich Capitolite owned.

He was stupid. Their senses were dulled due to the burning liquid coursing down their throats and entering into their bodies. But even then, it was something that the Eric Rhodes should have thought about. His marks were always high. His IQ baffled many people, even geniuses too. And yet he never thought about the consequences of spending a night such as the one he spent with a girl like Lethe. But it wasn't a consequence. Eden is a gift. That much Eric believed. He truly did believe that the little child, who he assumed was no older than four years of age by now, was the best thing in his life. And despite being the creator of many genius ideas and papers for his university class, those of which important people wished to dig into, Eric knew that Eden was the greatest creation of his.

But the two of them, both Lethe and Eden, were farther away than he could ever imagine. He knew not where District Five was as he had only ever visited District One with his parents at a young age. And it wasn't just his mind that noticed the distance between them. His heart ached, which he knew was merely psychological but nonetheless painful. His one and only daughter and the girl who he believed he had some intense feelings for were gone and he probably never crossed either of their minds. Was Lethe with somebody else? Was Eden calling somebody else her father? He didn't want to even think of that. It hurt him too much. Right down to his core. Nobody would have ever thought that Eric could feel such a thing. He was, after all, completely dedicated to pursuing his dreams and to succeed in life. But alas, he cared. He felt. He loved.

Which is why the rickety door of the run down pub was carefully pushed open, setting off a quiet ring of the bell. An elderly man from behind the bar looked up over his glasses, his expression remaining solemn. The man's eyes remained locked on Eric as he approached, seeming to pick him apart with every step he took, determining the reason as to why a young man stood in his bar on a night like this. Eric knew very well that it was to forget. Wasn't that why most people would order drink after drink after drink? It was to block out the depressing thing known as life and to enter into the reality of booze. That was how all of this pain started with Eric. He had had one drink too many. Without that, he surely wouldn't be feeling this way. It all started with a drink. And based on how he felt now, it certainly could end with one.

"Can I get you anything, son?" The man had asked but before Eric could even answer, he had begun preparing a drink. It was as if he knew what the answer would be. The strongest thing you've got, please. And soon, the clean glass was placed before the young genius, a golden liquid resting inside. It's half empty, he noted before pouring all of the contents down his throat, enjoying the burn that accompanied it. It came clattering down on the wooden bar before him and his eyes met the bartender's. It was then that an unspoken agreement was made. Keep 'em coming. Another was place before him however he sipped from this one, wishing to drag the process out as much as he could.

It was then that his eyes discovered the tv lodged in the corner of the ceiling. A recap of the finale of the 62nd Hunger Games was playing, showing the young victor from One as he laid the final killing blow upon his victim. It has only been a few years since she was there. He knew that the girl of his current desires was a killer. But in reality, so was he. He lived in the Capitol, making him just as much of a killer as the President, as the Gamemakers and as each tribute that cuts a throat or stabs a heart or lops off a head. Lethe was pure, he was sure of it. Deep down inside, he knew she wasn't what the Games made her. She wasn't a monster. She was an angel. And as the clock struck midnight, he closed his eyes and wished for one thing. I just want to tell you how I feel.

And with that, the bell rang once more, announcing that another person had entered into the small pub at the corner of the empty road.