hello my loneliness || nico & beck blitz
Aug 16, 2020 14:28:27 GMT -5
Post by ᴥ on Aug 16, 2020 14:28:27 GMT -5
Beck wakes up soaked in sweat and tangled in his sheets, bruises in the shape of crescent moons sit like a brand in the center of his palm. In other words, he wakes up like he would any other day. It takes a couple of minutes to rub away the remnants of his nightmare, though he can't remember much about this one. It's a little victory, but a welcome one.
Stale celebration hangs in stagnant air. Beck is willing to bet nothing has changed since last year, that half-mad gleam in everyone's eye is far too practiced. The Finale descends upon them, blood in the water, and it's like the Capitol has never tasted anything sweeter. They swarm around television screens, spitting insults at their least favorite victim and placing last minute bounties on children's heads.
It's like he's walking through fog, three steps above the clouds, watching rain swell within them before the storm descends. There's thunder rolling around there somewhere but Beck is too exhausted to be angry. His throat is sore from screaming last night, his muscles are injured with overuse. What's left to do but await the inevitable? He certainly doesn't intend to welcome it with open arms, but that's a problem for another day.
He swipes two bottles of wine from the kitchen, nearly toppling an avox as he darts beneath their cocktail weenie-laden platter. "My bad!" He holds up a hand in halfhearted apology and makes sure to exit before he can catch their response. Today is not a day for regret.
Beck fully intended to finish off both bottles by himself but the thought of being alone had become almost unbearable. He'd never been able to drown out the white noise like other Victors could with bellies full of fire and whiskey. At the very least, misery loves company even if that wouldn't stop him from waking up in a pool of tears and vomit.
"Hey listen," He slides in across from Nico, placing one of the unopened bottles in front of him with a flourish, "it's noon right?" He looks at the clock, "-it's almost noon right? I've got no intention of remembering today or doing it alone." He steeples his fingers together and leans in conspiratorially.
Maybe it's because Nico had been one of the first faces he'd seen when waking up but there was some part of Beck that trusted that he'd make things better. "So you in?"
Stale celebration hangs in stagnant air. Beck is willing to bet nothing has changed since last year, that half-mad gleam in everyone's eye is far too practiced. The Finale descends upon them, blood in the water, and it's like the Capitol has never tasted anything sweeter. They swarm around television screens, spitting insults at their least favorite victim and placing last minute bounties on children's heads.
It's like he's walking through fog, three steps above the clouds, watching rain swell within them before the storm descends. There's thunder rolling around there somewhere but Beck is too exhausted to be angry. His throat is sore from screaming last night, his muscles are injured with overuse. What's left to do but await the inevitable? He certainly doesn't intend to welcome it with open arms, but that's a problem for another day.
He swipes two bottles of wine from the kitchen, nearly toppling an avox as he darts beneath their cocktail weenie-laden platter. "My bad!" He holds up a hand in halfhearted apology and makes sure to exit before he can catch their response. Today is not a day for regret.
Beck fully intended to finish off both bottles by himself but the thought of being alone had become almost unbearable. He'd never been able to drown out the white noise like other Victors could with bellies full of fire and whiskey. At the very least, misery loves company even if that wouldn't stop him from waking up in a pool of tears and vomit.
"Hey listen," He slides in across from Nico, placing one of the unopened bottles in front of him with a flourish, "it's noon right?" He looks at the clock, "-it's almost noon right? I've got no intention of remembering today or doing it alone." He steeples his fingers together and leans in conspiratorially.
Maybe it's because Nico had been one of the first faces he'd seen when waking up but there was some part of Beck that trusted that he'd make things better. "So you in?"
