Doom Doom, Sniper :: [Beretta + Heather]

H E A T H E R - T E N L E Y



o
i cant do this, you keep messing with my head
god i know you and even too much wouldn't be enough
o

She didn't think any elevator ride could top the first ride up after opening ceremonies. The giant knot of Tributes formed had caused the elevator to be stuck for a good ten minutes, and resulted in lifelong (considering their lives would not last much longer) friends between the four. One wouldn't imagine anything more interesting could happen in an elevator besides four Tributes tangled up together unable to unattach themselves.

And then she met Beretta Corleon.

The day started as a typical, boring training day - tediously identifying plants, setting traps for fake rabbits, shooting arrows five feet shy of targets. Sweat barely made its way out of Heather's pores so little effort had been given. The desire to exert energy had been far from present in her that day; so far, in fact, that she curled up in the corner of the first aid station, laid her head on a bundle of bandages, and dozed off.

Hours later, she awoke to the sound of very few people still scampering around the room. A little embarrassed, and still quite sleepy, she gathered her things and headed straight to the elevator. Leaning against the wall, she sighed-- and that's when the door opened up with the pull of a sharpened-nailed finger. That's when the most intimidating woman Heather had ever had the misfortune(? luxury? she was undecided exactly what it was) of laying eyes on stepped into the lift. Red soaked apparel gushed droplets onto the floor, pooling around her like the tears of her prey.

Heather was chilled. Her bones, slicked with frost, locked in place. Eyes unflinching, focused wholly on the behemoth of a human before her. She swore she died, if only for a moment, an icy breath leaving her body for good.

When a blood-soaked shirt slapped her face, otherwise bewitched with the beauty before her, Heather snapped back alive, resuscitation immediate. The red oozed down the side of her face, hiding the growing blush in her cheeks with stains of red.  The elevator stopped at Heather's floor, but even if any part of her wanted to leave the lift, the woman - who Heather had deemed a queen in her own right - refused to allow it as her pants were dumped upon Heather as well.

More dripping blood. A smirk. Heather was in utter awe of this empress before her, commanding all the attention of anything with a heartbeat.

The queen spoke, and Heather tried to pay attention to words but all she could hear was majestic singing reverberating through the metal walls, a symphony wailing out, deafening and awe-inspiring. The girl before her licked her lips, and Heather felt her breath kicked out of her chest once more, unable to move whatsoever, the blood still casually falling around her body, meeting with the pool surrounding the other. The Seven's blood seemed to gravitate towards the queen, joining an army of worshipers groveling at her feet. If the woman killed Heather now, she would be thankful to be taken by such a magnificent and all-powerful ruler.

When the elevator reached the top, the sound of rain finally made itself audible to Heather, her ears allowing in sounds other than the orchestral musings. As the machine dinged, coming to a stop and sliding its doors wide open, Heather continued staring at the other. A smile crept across her red-drenched face, and Heather was truly alive for the first time all day.

o
i can't take it, i need room to breathe, i need room to speak
we've been through this, but still you seem to somehow run into me
o