task eleven // sweet and rotten
It was what he was born to do: die gloriously and have people shed a river of tears for his suffering. There was nothing tragic, nothing frightening anymore to the sweet, relieving thought of death. Sure, Felix wasnât yet aware just how sweet as he opened his eyes for the last time to the ceiling of his beautiful Capitol room and smiled. What was there to frown about? He wasnât going to treat the imminence of his death as more than it really was - and truth be told, it didnât matter much, or enough. He greeted his staff politely, kissing the distracted female mentorâs hand and thanking her with tears in his eyes that he didnât own (for no reason; he knew a Rosseau wasnât going to soften up because of some salty water), shaking the male mentorâs hand and promising to do his best not to let down his district - their district - and die too soon. Cora he bowed before, claiming with so much honesty in his voice that it couldnât be anything but a lie that it was the ultimate honor to wear her creations in his last days. He thanked them all, even the Capitol escort that wasnât partial to his charm, with warmth and promised glory. It was more than some of the other One districts brought back home, anyway, and he didnât come to the Capitol to win to begin with an that was no longer a secret.
He didnât go to see Cerise before the Games. She needed her time and he needed his, as much as theyâve always claimed they didnât have enough for each other, even. It was different. The Games implied so much noise that they needed to charge themselves with some silence and peace before stepping into that arena. That was at least what he felt.
Next time they would see each other, everything would be changed, though, would it? He wasnât feeling the difference between Tower and arena - different kinds of prisons, both lethal although only one stuck around for long enough to kill you. One thing was for sure, however: he wasnât going to turn his back on her when she needed him the most - he would grab a bow and arrows and target anybody threatening to target them. The lord knew she couldnât protect herself properly on her own, and he wasnât going to break his promise and abandon her at her most vulnerable. With a firm nod, he was sauntering down the corridor, peaceful as lake water. There was nothing unsettling him. In a way, it was like finally completing a puzzle. Just another day at the Academy, but with a greater purpose.Â
Numb he felt as he put on the arena clothes, strange and worth questioning anybody at all available about if he wasnât already past asking question. Numb he as as the drone took him and the other tributes to the arena zone. The general numbness didnât even leave as his tube rose from the ground, exposing a brown and pink arena as which he has never seen one before. It didnât lend in well with his indifference seeing something so colorful, so bright, so vivid and lively. Felix felt intrigued to be part of something so different after studying about arenas all his life and never once hearing of an arena made of sweets. He was so excited that, as the countdown started, he was ready to break the glass just to get inside first and smell the sweetness for a short while. So excited and inspired and happy to be dying somewhere beautiful that he almost tripped while trying to get off the platform. After recovering his balance though, there was no room for sauntering: he ran into the claws of danger and his smile was as sickeningly sweet as the rest of his surroundings. He would find his allies later - now he wanted to explore.Â
