charcoal clouds | finley x berlin

Berlin collapsed behind the door to the District Four apartments, head ringing, a headache already in full force, moving from behind his eyes to the top of his head. Like someone had taken a hot poker to his temple, his head ached.

Brand new sneakers on his feet - a gift from the Capitol - scuffed the floors of the foyer, the sound of rainfall filtering through the apartment as the sixteen-year-old sat with his head in his hands.

This place was extravagant, the devils on full display. Temptations abound but they were here to fight and to die. It was that simple. And yet it wasn’t simple at all. Nothing about this place could be placed into neat boxes and maybe that was the idea. Things were not black or white here, like at home. There was intrigue and agendas and strategy. And alcohol. So much alcohol. 

If he hadn't volunteered to come here, a sacrificial lamb for the slaughter, he would have been drowning in the opulence. As it was, he was drowning in the opulence. Hence the headache. He was forgetting why he was here. He was forgetting why he volunteered. He needed that to remain at the forefront of his mind. He needed to remember.

But the rain, the sound of rainfall was inexplicable. A quick glance up, head spinning, and the urban sprawl before him showed clear night skies, the sun dropping between buildings and filling the room’s floor to ceiling windows in a dull pink glow.

The boy stood, his arms above his head, stretching his back and massaging a bruise from one of the trainers as he walks back towards his room.

He and Finley, his district partner, had not really spoken since arriving the week previous. He had volunteered and she hadn’t. A bond that was meant to materialize as they both faced fairly certain death had not materialized. Berlin could not find it in him to care about her - he knew nothing, which would make it easier in the Arena. The Games made monsters of them all and with nothing more to go on, it would be easy to end her life.

But what he saw gave him pause and despite his better angels (or demons), Berlin had to stop, his hand on her doorway.

Finley was perched on her bed, upside down, the screen that descended from their walls fully extended. Her head dangled over the edge of the bed, a bowl of popcorn on her chest as she just….watched the rainfall. It reminded him of Sienna - but no, that memory was too painful and the boy choked the thought back. She was the reason he was here, but it was better not to think about her, living. It was easier to think about the things that happened after.

His voice was hoarse from lack of use when he spoke to her and he had to clear his throat to get her attention.

“You know, if you have a death wish and want to end things a bit quicker than a rush of blood to your head, you could have just asked.”