Status: 8/8
I Could Be What You Had Saved
23
Finnick is twenty-three and his rage is a flame in the pit of his stomach set to slowly burn everything.
He knows better than to root for a tribute, but the girl is too much. Too kind, too fragile, too much like Aisa. He can’t help her, and he knows even if she comes out alive she won’t survive – still he prays and hopes for her, hopes they don’t destroy something so precious and delicate like they did before.
But they do, and his rage isn’t a flame anymore but a blaze. He can’t stand it anymore, none of it, he can’t keep letting kids be slaughtered and more Aisas be destroyed. He can’t. He won’t.
Their names are tattooed inside his lips, reminding him of things he didn’t and couldn’t do. Rue. Aisa.
(And so it begins.)
He knows better than to root for a tribute, but the girl is too much. Too kind, too fragile, too much like Aisa. He can’t help her, and he knows even if she comes out alive she won’t survive – still he prays and hopes for her, hopes they don’t destroy something so precious and delicate like they did before.
But they do, and his rage isn’t a flame anymore but a blaze. He can’t stand it anymore, none of it, he can’t keep letting kids be slaughtered and more Aisas be destroyed. He can’t. He won’t.
Their names are tattooed inside his lips, reminding him of things he didn’t and couldn’t do. Rue. Aisa.
(And so it begins.)
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i'm trash and this is trash kbye