wine and ink {cole & torren}

You've spent the entire day exposing the aspects of your abilities just as they taught you. Knives thrown into disintegrating dummies, swords shoved between slates of steel, even trainers thrown to the ground without a word of remorse. A force of fire that could engulf every other existence within the walls of its waging flames. But alas, you find yourself shadowed by utter annoyance. The train ride had been exquisitely entertaining, the perfect platform to start your new life from. And now you've fallen so far from such events of dangerous drama. You've played this part plenty back home as bodies bent beneath your fists furled with fury. The beast you've built can wait for the games to come creeping forth from the shadows. For now, you choose to taste the rivers of luxuries while life still allows such.

Brackets brake off of the small fridge you find as your fingers tether hastily to the neck of a bottle of red wine. Upon uncorking the bottle a fragrance of fruit floats forth from its basin. Your lips embrace the sweet seduction of Dionysus' ambrosia and a river of rejoice ripples across your tongue. The liquid lights a soft-stirring fire within the hearth of your heart and an ease echos over your expression. What would humanity be without the blessed fruit of the vine to bring brightness to the dark? Perhaps you'll know when your blade is red not with wine, but with the blood of your fellow tributes.

You take another gulp.

Perhaps, but not today.

As night overtakes day, the number of figures filing through the stations of survival dwindles drastically. The center stands before you now practically empty, an imperfect portrait. On the various layers of levels above your head, most of your competitors are joining at tables for dinner and preparing for a night of falsified sleep. You've spent your nights cradled beneath the moon's opulent eye before now, let them share in the dreams you've already abandoned. As for this moment, there are other such interests that angle for your attention.

Such as Cole Hailsham.

His name is like that of a mysterious melody to you. A fellow career, a fellow volunteer. What world does he hide behind his chiseled features and within the spheres of his anguished eyes? Has he come too from the the fields of Hades with a past now burnt into ash? You crave the sounds of his secrets almost as much as the wine you bring again to the crest of your lips. Your body is humming now to the music of ease and swaying to the accelerando of the alcohol. No matter the barrier between you both, you shall enter his atmosphere as though you are a comet crashing forth from the darkness.

You act exactly as you would expect of yourself, your lips locking instantly, unexpectedly, onto his. You pull away with force enough for a sound to announce the separation of your sudden gesture. It echos across the otherwise silent center. Some people's hearts would be racing, but your's is as normal as always. You have no feelings for the boy you've just kissed, you've come to him solely for entertainment. You smirk as you take another step back.

"So that's what the ocean tastes like, I've always wanted to know."

Your bottle comes right back up to your lips to replace the warmth of his.You can already feel your excitement slowly starting to stir. Oh Ripred, how much more enjoyable this is to shoving swords through skin.

"Thanks."