@driftcd demanded: Stop being so modest about your achievements! | prompt.
Fifty-four was a bad year for the both of them and fifty-five isnât looking any better.
Esraâs first year mentoring after heâd won, and the year that Kadeâs family, for the most part, got swept out from underneath him. Heâs never askedâhe doesnât want to askâwhy sometimes thereâs a babyâs cry on the winds between their houses in the Four Village. â What achievements? â Esra hisses on the way to the Capitol. He draws his knees tight to his chest, having laid his white suit jacket on the floor, making him look sweaty and overdressed now that itâs gone.
â You donât have any, and I donât, either. We won a fucked up reality showâand good! Good! Now weâre alive, and we have to live with ourselves. I canât evenâmy brother doesnât wanna talk to meâyour sister is dead! What modesty is there to have? And we just have to watch âem be thrown into a tub to be butchered. How do you even pretend to feel good about yourself? You make me sick. â
Curling into his knees, he squeezes his face at a hard and crooked angle. He covers his ears with his hands, pressing his heels to his ear canals. â I make myself sick. I donât want to talk to you. â



















