◤LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS.◢

 and 

beard

Much. Beard.

Don’t get me wrong-- I really like Wes Chatham (and Jamie Dornan ) but look at his face 

The cameraman was just about to take a bite of  the food-like pile on his plate when he got interrupted   by a not so appalling touch. Castor slowly lowered  his hand and laid his fork down before turning his head to the other man next to him, glaring at him, but incapable  of hiding a crooked smile. As his eyes met Finnick’s brighter green ones , he bend towards him -- just so  he could whisper in his ear.

"My brother is dead."

“H-he didn’t…” Finnick doesn’t even finish the sentence because the weight of all the assassinations that had been because of him and his friends is way to unbearable for him to continue. Even more now that someone so important for the one that it’s now most important to him is dead. He’s feeling lifeless. Inert. Breathless. After all, Castor and him were the same, they’re the walking dead.

The numbness seems to have barred all the roads his senses  usually took in order to function properly.  The space around  him is covered in a  thick b l u r , making Finnick unrecognizable  for him. There is no sorrow or anger in his eyes- no tears to mark his grief. Castor’s voice has spoken words he himself cannot stand hearing -  Not because they’re too painful, but because his mind thinks they differ from the truth. To his ears they are nothing but another attempt of the Capitol to spread their devastating propaganda.   After all that’s happened, it is too much of a misfortune to be true.

the realization will come sooner or later -- it always does.

i love all hugs!