spin the bottle // [group 2]

Alcohol.

The bittersweet taste of the fancy capitolite drinks that were provided to him had been perfect for every time he needed an escape from the dreams and the reality. There was always something to take him away for just a bit. It costed him an arm and a leg for the bottles, but it was worth it if he felt at least alive for only a few hours. He needed to just feel something in him. That's why he showed up to the party that was happening with the other tributes. The thoughts in his mind running wild.

If you had one night to live, what would you do?

Unsure of his response to his own mind, he had no clue. The first thing that came to mind was pray to see Jequirity again, but the empty hole in heart ached for something different. Sometimes, he didn't know which head he was thinking with, but that was rare for him. He's done so many things in the eighteen years of his life that he's been alive that there wasn't much he would want to do. A sigh escapes his throat as he feels the warmth of his jacket that his stylist had tossed on him, commenting on how it made him like stronger, when inside he knew he was weak. Weaker than any of the tributes in the building. They volunteered for something different, something stronger, something to be proud of, but then there was him. Volunteering for the right to die in the way Jequirity did. It was always her that was stuck in his mind.

Eckharts of games before ring through his mind. Amerika was so sure of herself. The confidence that oozed from her her skin made Rio want to be a better man, but he couldn't live up to that wish. He could barely remember how it felt when Sol Shim killed her. Lucy was similar. He knew little to nothing about her, even though he tried to learn more about her while she was in the games. He didn't try hard enough. That ended with sadness as he watched her die just like her siblings before. Hollow eyes of a grave staring back at him as his heart aches for the lost. Naveen and Theseus felt like forever ago. The singing of Naveen ringing in his ears. Theo's bright smile making any day shine brighter.

The whispers of a game that he's only heard a few times. Spin the Bottle. A game of making out and getting laid according to what he's heard from trainers. A roll of the eyes as he downs the beer in his hand. Zanita's loud voice booming over the chitter chatter of tributes that surrounded the area. Heartbeats heavy as they all know. They would be killing each other tomorrow. Blades, blunts, and sharpened weapons would cut one another to pieces. Soon his peace would come. Death would be blissful. Death was coming and he could feel it.

"Come sit with me if you wanna make out!"

Body is a mind of it's own as he moves to circle up. Legs crossed like he was back in elementary school where kids used to make fun of him for how he looked and how plump he had been. He's not fully paying attention. The alcohol in his veins, fuels his desire to forget about everything. Zanita's voice is both obnoxious and pleasant reminder of everything around him. She was starting. Remembering how they had met was quite obnoxious. Slapped across the face for being a bit nosy in everyone's business. It was bound to happen. He just didn't expect it from Zanita, until it had happened. Swears and a hand mark to prove it had happened. The swears from his lips, the hand mark from Zanita. It had faded already, just like the blow to his pride.

The bottle spins. Prayers and wishes of it not being him pop into his head. Zanita wasn't exactly a girl who he would want to kiss. She was attractive. In a way that reminded him of what he was supposed to not do. Everything in the room felt like it was spinning, until the bottle stopped. Prayers and wishes be damned, Riordan Einfallen was the target of the bottle. Under his breath he curses for being so undeniably unlucky. Could he just get one day of something that wasn't going to get him hurt or upset.

Kissing Zanita was not on his list for his possibly last night living a life of normalcy and not life or death. Unfortunately, the world had other plans for him. As he wants to curse out loud and say no. Eyes meet for a second as he gets a good look at her. Dark hair that looks so soft to touch. Dark eyes that hold something deep within them. Lips that looked so kissable from where he was sitting. As soon as he finally was giving a good look at Zanita, he confirmed that she was attractive. His mind screams for him to stop thinking, but finally the thought in his head comes up.

Fuck it. You deserve something.

Crawling towards him, she looks so elegant and quite drunk. Just like him. Drunk and yet so elegantly sitting in the circle, hands resting on his knees. A smile pulls at his lips as she reaches him. Drunken minds, desires of the night, and the idea of forgetting everything. The last night for anything fun to truly happen. As he realized the idea running through his head, he wants to be disgusted in himself. Jequirity Eckhart would want him to move on. He couldn't. She would want it. Zanita speaks first, just as his mind speaks in his head.

"Sorry, about slapping you Rio,"

She would want him to move on.

"Let me kiss it and make it all better."

Arms wrapped around his neck, just like he would have wanted Jequirity to do. Lips touch his and he's breaking. All of his walls fall. As lips meet in a heated passion, heart thumping as plump lips touch his own. Soon, teeth nibble at his bottom lip. A soft groan falls from his body. The world seems to vanish around him. This is what he needed for one more night. The feeling of something real and yet a fantasy. He pushes forward taking a bit of control, passionately kissing her back. Arms resting on the small of her back, until he pulls away.

Breathless.

Drunk.

Craving her touch.

Eyes flutter in a smile as he feels Jequirity fade from his mind more. Zanita taking place of the woman he loved. If he could for one night, he would dream of it being blissful before his ultimate demise. Opening the brown eyes he has. Lust clearly written upon them as he whispers in Zanita's ear. Words that he didn't think he would have said to anyone else, until now. The kiss was perfect, a mixture of desire and want, just like himself. The way she felt on him was just right, even if it wasn't exactly perfect. The whisper is only audible to her and only her. Can't have Atlas Lumiere ruining his night of fun.

"Let's go back to my room. I'll show you how I can make it better."

All of it was ending with a bottle, a girl who had slapped him, and one final good night of getting laid.

No dreams of purple fields, opera houses, or her.

Only marks on his body and the memory of something good in his life for once.