breathless }} ansel x hayden !blitz!

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[nyte]
Head RP Tutor

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Pronouns: he/him
last seen Nov 15, 2024 13:09:48 GMT -5

oof

breathless }} ansel x hayden !blitz! Oct 8, 2017 17:01:18 GMT -5

Post by [nyte] on Oct 8, 2017 17:01:18 GMT -5

hayden harvard

Poison leaves the taste of truth upon the back of my throat. Trapped within four walls, metal bars closing in and with every breath it tightens. There is something so claustrophobic about the promise of death. The nightmares come, buried deep beneath silken sheets and I feel so much like Gretel- luxuries shoved down my throat, keeping me as fat and happy as I was before these games. I dream of how they will kill me, a thousand ways to die. Each more excruciating than the last.

I don't think I'm scared. Loneliness has taken root, leaving that same agonizing emptiness that was all I could feel when I was away from her. Now, I'll never see her again and it's okay, I'm okay. I tell myself the same thing, over and over again until there is not enough room to feel anything but peaceful neutrality. Wine tastes so much better when every glass might be your last and I lick the adrenaline off of the rim just to make sure my heart keeps beating.

Someone, anyone. Four glasses and there is desperation at the bottom of the fifth. I've always been a lightweight- wasted off of half of a glass but with the weight of the world upon my shoulders I figured that I would need so much more.

And well, we all make mistakes.

I can't walk straight. The world is shifting around me, dipping when my feet touch the ground and I stumble when my toes meet the tile. Simple walls have become a labyrinth- hand pressed to the wall and Ariadne's string is what brings me to him. Smile plastered to my face and I've never been this drunk before.

"Sweetheart!" I mumble, resting my hands upon his shoulders and laughing although none of this is funny. "Ansel, right? Hello hun, how're you?" Even with a needle and thread, I do not think that I could keep these words within me.

Last Edit: Oct 8, 2017 17:03:54 GMT -5 by [nyte]

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

kousei ♚
Mentor

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last seen May 7, 2022 17:23:18 GMT -5

now and forever

breathless }} ansel x hayden !blitz! Oct 9, 2017 15:02:09 GMT -5

Post by kousei ♚ on Oct 9, 2017 15:02:09 GMT -5

Ever feel like you can’t breathe
Does the water feel too deep
Lie awake 'cause you can’t sleep without it

I'm living in the illusion of freedom.

That's the beauty of the veil draped over my eyes, I never realized until I left Serena without so much as a kiss goodbye. I left with a shoulder soaked with tears and all of a sudden my eyes are open. With nothing but a glass bottle full of ichor closed around my fist and a heavy shoulder bearing the final gift of a grieving mother, I understand. My head pounds with the rhythm of a dying heartbeat so I press the glass to my forehead in a scrambling attempt to find refuge in that glass prison, a shelter from the pain. This isn't the

I need to fucking breathe, not this Capitol smokescreen and Capitol steel. I need clean air and I need sanctuary that's hidden within this glass bottle and a reinforcement to the illusion of freedom. Just the idea that I can reach behind my back and grip white feathers and at least tell myself they're angel wings. The idea that I can reach out and not feel my fingers brush against wooden caskets built for two -- one for my flesh and one for my blood.

But I'm not here for bloody vengeance, I'm here so I can follow the paper path from this crimson kingdom of mine

So I rise. Counting the footsteps and wasted breaths beneath the promise of the arena. Yet I've already lost count, a white heartbeat on the verge of shatter and an even whiter hand gripping a bottle so tight I wonder what will give in first. Once my skin kisses the the frost of the outside I decide it doesn't matter anyway, I'm already drowning in my first swig.

"Sweetheart!" I hear here before I smell her or feel her hands against my shoulders. I wonder how someone can laugh in this situation, although I suppose when you're willing to slur your words you can laugh at anything. "Ansel, right? Hello hun, how're you?" She asks and I can't help but give a faint smile. She's clearly drunk a lot more than me and it's surprising that she even remembers my name. I only remember her as a number.

Two; a small part of me twinges on the side of caution.

"Sober and alive," I tell her looking down at my white fist then back up to her eyes before smiling. "Although I'd very much like to change that first one."

Anything to keep up this fragile freedom.

Ever feel like you’re alone
When you’re lost but your already home
Lie awake 'cause you can’t dream without it

[ dars ]