you're just { my type } // kaplan, blitz!

when there's loving in the air
don't fight it just keep breathing
i can't help myself but stare
double check for double meanings

Back in Three the alcohol Danny had been able to get her hands on was cheap and bitter. She could have afforded better if she had gone through her parents, of course, but they would have never allowed for it. And besides, she didn't want the bottles in the house where Alex could find them. So she settled for that which she could steal or persuade others to buy for her, searing away reality until she was dancing in glass castles and tearing other people's worlds apart just so she could make them understand how she felt.

Here in the Capitol, though, alcohol was very different. They disguised it and flavored it until it was like sweet ambrosia, and Ripred it was good.

She at least had the decency to hide while she did it. Too many people had made a habit of walking in on her lately, so not even her bedroom was an option. Instead she waited until after dark, sneaking down to the dining hall with a bottle that an avox had given her. The girl hadn't had any judgement in her eyes - hadn't had anything in her eyes, really - but Danny had gotten away as quickly as possible. She was eager to drown out Aiden's expectations and a future that she was coming closer to regretting each day, downing one glass after another until her body felt warm and liquid and easy for once.

And maybe she'd never been good at handling stress. Maybe Fate had chosen the wrong person to kill. But then again, twenty three children said the exact same thing every year, didn't they?

So she downed another glass because slowly or quickly, old or young, Fate and Death didn't discriminate and she was nothing special.

you're just my type
oh, you got a pulse and you are breathing
you're just my type
oh, i think it's time that we get leaving