hazy //pogue

"Please." 

He begs, with clenched fists and sweaty palms, fingernails scraping against the counter, boundaries of his prison scraped into the surface. They tremble slightly as he pulls them up, jabbing a finger towards the drugs behind the worker, wide eyed and pleading. Shades of orange against whitewashed walls, the pill bottles turn to lights as his vision blurs and the pounding in his head increases tenfold, splicing at his skull like a knife and he pulls back, clutching his head and pressing into his forehead. As if that will help the matter. 

"Sir, you're in no condition-" 

He shakes, pulling his head up and placing his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning in towards the man's face. 

"I need those pills, you don't understand I-" 

"Security!"

He walks, alone and unforgiven, dazed and lost in the world they stuck him in. Every breath feels like the pounding of a hammer against metal, Capitol sirens blaring in his head, the lights accompanying them yelling to him when he closes his eyelids. He curses under his breath, slumping against the wall of a nearby building and crumbling, biting his tongue to keep from screaming. When he was younger, he'd been told the drug would make him better. Stronger, faster, blah

He pounds his fist into the dirt. They lied, and when they saw what it did to him they dropped him. A lab rat left to die in a world full of pussycats. He runs his hands through his hair before looking up, and there she is, hair screaming to him and personality falling to the ground behind her. 

He rises, every sudden motion torture to his being, groggy and shaking. She notices him, he knows it, he can see it in the way she draws her arms in close, the way her eyes glance over him as if he's some speck of dirt against the wall. Hell, at this point he might as well be. 

It's three steps towards her before he taps her on the shoulder, not giving her any time to react before he spits out a plea. 

"Please, can you help me?"