eyes once blue { annie & axel phonecall
Oct 23, 2021 0:44:24 GMT -5
Post by calla on Oct 23, 2021 0:44:24 GMT -5
A X E L
M O R R I S E N
Annie's place has better heating than ours does. It makes the whole house cozier, even when there's no fire going and the kitchen window is open.
Funny how an empty house feels more like home than the house I grew up in does.
There's half a dozen little tells about the way I carved out a niche for myself here. Nine years go by and there's an extra set of pyjamas in one of the spare rooms that isn't really a spare anymore. There's a goldfish bowl on the kitchen counter and a pair of board shorts drying on the back of a chair and a key permanently in my pocket.
Annie brought me a blanket back a few years ago, something knit and blue imported from Eight, something that probably costs an entire month's salary. So it stays here, folded on the back of the couch, because if I ever brought it back home Annisa would cut it up and throw it in the ocean.
That's just the way she is.
She's probably at a viewing party now, trashing Annie's name and most likely Arc's right along with it. I'm watching from the cozy comfort of Annie's couch, with an expensive blanket over my shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate on the side table. It's to calm the nerves, because that's my cousin out there, and watching the pre-events before the Bloodbath airs always makes me jumpy and anxious and impatient.
They replay the interviews, and I start to pick at my nails when Anarchy starts blabbing on screen. Then it's the boy from Five, then the girl from Eight, then the countdown to the countdown is starting and I'm almost out of hot chocolate.
I sit up a little straighter when they show the first aerial arena view, looking for water where there isn't any. I know Arc said he didn't want a beach but I also know that would statistically give him the best chance and we both know that he needs all the help he can get.
It's like it hasn't even started when the first cannon goes off. It makes the living room shake a little, and I grab the tv remote to lower the sound and stare at the corner of the screen to avoid the way Aurora Emerson's eyes just kind of stare out blankly. But it was a career kill, so Annie's friends will be happy about that.
Except as soon as the career's sword moves there's another one swinging towards him and he just-
falls?
And that's from, what, the Nine? The one with the new victor? I haven't met him yet because Annie hasn't met him yet but the way his mentee stomps across the field makes me pull the blanket tighter.
Someone from Two falling second, the district that's supposed to be so strong? But, maybe, some terrible little part of me wonders if this is a good thing. Ones less opponent between Arc and home, right? One less trained killer he has to face?
And maybe I'm so focused on that, on one career, that I lose track of the other one for a minute. It's a quick little camera flash, barely a blink, and then Arc's there on the ground and I'm there on the couch and the cannon sound rocks the walls.
But that's not right, because the careers are always the ones that last the longest. Annie was a career and she won, Beck was a career and she brought him home, maybe Two wasn't so great but Four's been having a good track record and Arc is no different, there was just a glitch in the broadcast or something, the lighting was off.
I'm up suddenly, blanket falling to the floor, feet sliding on the tiles, because the thing with being alone right now is I might just be going crazy.
It takes me two tries to hit the number for the Capitol and then I just stand there listening to the ring until an operator picks up. I ask for the Four suites of the Training Centre like it's just another day and I'm just calling Annie after dinner to check up because I don't know if she always eats or not and being a weekly reminder makes me feel useful.
I grip the receiver in one hand so hard that it creaks, holding the cord in the other and leaning against the doorframe between the hallway and the living room. The line clicks and I knows that means someone picked up but I don't say anything, just stand there and breath and try to keep my legs steady.
"Annie-" I start, but then it tapers off because I don't really know what to say beyond that.
The tv's muted and it somehow makes the silence seem louder.
"Are you-" Safe? Angry? Disappointed?
Please tell me that didn't just happen.
"Are you okay?"
Funny how an empty house feels more like home than the house I grew up in does.
There's half a dozen little tells about the way I carved out a niche for myself here. Nine years go by and there's an extra set of pyjamas in one of the spare rooms that isn't really a spare anymore. There's a goldfish bowl on the kitchen counter and a pair of board shorts drying on the back of a chair and a key permanently in my pocket.
Annie brought me a blanket back a few years ago, something knit and blue imported from Eight, something that probably costs an entire month's salary. So it stays here, folded on the back of the couch, because if I ever brought it back home Annisa would cut it up and throw it in the ocean.
That's just the way she is.
She's probably at a viewing party now, trashing Annie's name and most likely Arc's right along with it. I'm watching from the cozy comfort of Annie's couch, with an expensive blanket over my shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate on the side table. It's to calm the nerves, because that's my cousin out there, and watching the pre-events before the Bloodbath airs always makes me jumpy and anxious and impatient.
They replay the interviews, and I start to pick at my nails when Anarchy starts blabbing on screen. Then it's the boy from Five, then the girl from Eight, then the countdown to the countdown is starting and I'm almost out of hot chocolate.
I sit up a little straighter when they show the first aerial arena view, looking for water where there isn't any. I know Arc said he didn't want a beach but I also know that would statistically give him the best chance and we both know that he needs all the help he can get.
It's like it hasn't even started when the first cannon goes off. It makes the living room shake a little, and I grab the tv remote to lower the sound and stare at the corner of the screen to avoid the way Aurora Emerson's eyes just kind of stare out blankly. But it was a career kill, so Annie's friends will be happy about that.
Except as soon as the career's sword moves there's another one swinging towards him and he just-
falls?
And that's from, what, the Nine? The one with the new victor? I haven't met him yet because Annie hasn't met him yet but the way his mentee stomps across the field makes me pull the blanket tighter.
Someone from Two falling second, the district that's supposed to be so strong? But, maybe, some terrible little part of me wonders if this is a good thing. Ones less opponent between Arc and home, right? One less trained killer he has to face?
And maybe I'm so focused on that, on one career, that I lose track of the other one for a minute. It's a quick little camera flash, barely a blink, and then Arc's there on the ground and I'm there on the couch and the cannon sound rocks the walls.
But that's not right, because the careers are always the ones that last the longest. Annie was a career and she won, Beck was a career and she brought him home, maybe Two wasn't so great but Four's been having a good track record and Arc is no different, there was just a glitch in the broadcast or something, the lighting was off.
I'm up suddenly, blanket falling to the floor, feet sliding on the tiles, because the thing with being alone right now is I might just be going crazy.
It takes me two tries to hit the number for the Capitol and then I just stand there listening to the ring until an operator picks up. I ask for the Four suites of the Training Centre like it's just another day and I'm just calling Annie after dinner to check up because I don't know if she always eats or not and being a weekly reminder makes me feel useful.
I grip the receiver in one hand so hard that it creaks, holding the cord in the other and leaning against the doorframe between the hallway and the living room. The line clicks and I knows that means someone picked up but I don't say anything, just stand there and breath and try to keep my legs steady.
"Annie-" I start, but then it tapers off because I don't really know what to say beyond that.
The tv's muted and it somehow makes the silence seem louder.
"Are you-" Safe? Angry? Disappointed?
Please tell me that didn't just happen.
"Are you okay?"
