a simple hello will suffice {harb/sax blitz}

don't be shy

[attr="class","cometome"]hui - speach
The loneliness had began to seep in like the rain through a poorly sealed window. My head  resting against the glass doors on the far side of my room. My body covered by nothing more then a linen robe, the pulsating body of my own quivering against the falling rain that meets me on the other side. I shiver not because of the cold, but because my shoulder missed the soft touch of Xavier. My lips lusting for one last encounter with his. Two fish swimming at two separate paces, but both meeting their end at the drain. 

A single bottle that rests on my nightstand seems to echo my name. I stand form my pit of hatred for myself, fumbling over to the tall glass container of bronze liquid. It had read Zillaquints on the bottle. I had recognized it has an alcohol brand, one that my father had always spoken of, but never had the pleasure to taste for himself. My fingers brush against the cap of the bottle, realizing that it wasn't nearly as magnificent as my bottle cap. It was so plain, not even worth saving. I unscrew it with such pleasure, to hear that familiar "pop" of pressure burst through my ears. I had so badly wanted to put it down, I had known Xavier wouldn't approve, but he wasn't here. He couldn't tell me no...I had warned him not to watch, and here I was becoming just what I thought I would. 

I raise the bottle to my cherry stained lips, an icy rush of brandy burrowing down my throat. My face clenched, how could a liquid so cold, burn like hell? It wasn't long before I had downed nearly half the bottle, hoping it would erase sorrow, just as my father said it had. I decide that I wanted to train more, I wasn't done for today, no, I was just getting started.

I pull a large t-shirt over my shoulders, its hem ending just past my upper thigh. I wasn't in need of pants so I had left myself with simple undergarments. The robe had still been strung over both of my shoulders, sloppily open at this point. I pitter-patter my way down to the training center doors. A quick tumble forward and i burst into the room. Nothing can be heard, that is nothing but the constant pounding, almost like a drum. I walk around the room trying to view as much as I could in the dim light. I notice a large figure a crossed the room, his fists pounding against what I would call his drum. 

He looked strong, terrifying in a way. I believe he was from district eleven, it seems something has changed in the water over there, so many victors, so little time. I scuff my feet along the training center floors, finally reaching the boy. I pull my hand to his shoulder, which was surprisingly much higher then I could have imagined. He stops his thumping momentarily. "Here, have a drink." I say through gritted teeth, I give my best attempt at a smile. "But be careful...its kind of like, fire."