Of Whines and Wines [Riordan/Ronnie]
Feb 4, 2017 20:58:26 GMT -5
Post by Tom on Feb 4, 2017 20:58:26 GMT -5
r i o r d a n e i n f a l l e n
He's drank it all. The exquisite and the cheap alcohol. Beer was his favorite. Always had been and always will be. The hard stuff was what made him forget of it all. The death. The despair. The broken dreams. The show that must go on. This was the big finish for him. Drunk upon some wine and shots, exploring the training center, until his inevitable death in the games. A chuckle falls from his lips as he imagines it all. Wine bottle in hand, he roams the floors that belong to so many tributes. Numbers of people who he would soon forget when one of them cut him to pieces, tear his head off his shoulders, or any number of deaths. It'd be painful and a deserving punishment of a man who no longer had a reason to live, only a reason to die. Death's beautiful grasp with his heart as he pulls the throbbing organ out of his chest.
The number four is plastered somewhere in the hall. At least that's what he thinks. Leon wouldn't mind a visitor, right? Either way he was gonna explore the floors, until he runs into a warm body. Comforting, but quite cold for what Riordan wanted. There wasn't a sign of what he wanted upon the person. No gorgeous eyes like her. No long hair that falls down the shoulders, only short hair that looks soft. His hands threaten to move to them, that is until he realizes it's a guy. Rammie Chain or something of the sort. A smile pulls at his lips as the alcohol in his veins runs through his body. Words tumble out like they are unknown to the world.
"mmmm Hello Rammie Chain. I'm borrred! Hang out with me."
Face still within the chest of Rammie Chain. Alcohol pumping him with no sorrows, only joy as he laughs quietly to himself. Memories long gone. Only a ring sits upon his finger itching to remind Riordan of where he is and what he's doing. Lost to the bottle that supplies him the energy to forget it all. Death's grasp nowhere near him in that moment. If he was to die there, he'd be alright. Rammie Chain could do it and Riordan Einfallen would fall into a bliss that wasn't filled with sorrow filled dreams. He's still living for now, upon a tightrope that if he falls into will tear him to shreds, breaking bones and skin. The wine bottle in his hand is nice. The warmth of the chest in front of him is nice. Girls were nice and all, but with alcohol in him, guys were just much warmer and seemed comfier. At least to him. He wasn't gay.
The number four is plastered somewhere in the hall. At least that's what he thinks. Leon wouldn't mind a visitor, right? Either way he was gonna explore the floors, until he runs into a warm body. Comforting, but quite cold for what Riordan wanted. There wasn't a sign of what he wanted upon the person. No gorgeous eyes like her. No long hair that falls down the shoulders, only short hair that looks soft. His hands threaten to move to them, that is until he realizes it's a guy. Rammie Chain or something of the sort. A smile pulls at his lips as the alcohol in his veins runs through his body. Words tumble out like they are unknown to the world.
"mmmm Hello Rammie Chain. I'm borrred! Hang out with me."
Face still within the chest of Rammie Chain. Alcohol pumping him with no sorrows, only joy as he laughs quietly to himself. Memories long gone. Only a ring sits upon his finger itching to remind Riordan of where he is and what he's doing. Lost to the bottle that supplies him the energy to forget it all. Death's grasp nowhere near him in that moment. If he was to die there, he'd be alright. Rammie Chain could do it and Riordan Einfallen would fall into a bliss that wasn't filled with sorrow filled dreams. He's still living for now, upon a tightrope that if he falls into will tear him to shreds, breaking bones and skin. The wine bottle in his hand is nice. The warmth of the chest in front of him is nice. Girls were nice and all, but with alcohol in him, guys were just much warmer and seemed comfier. At least to him. He wasn't gay.