@soleilsx
paraded like animals, as if bred killers weren’t what the capitol forced every child to become one day. victor or not, there was guilt to be shared for the mere tolerance of it all. each games, there’s victory celebrated ––– another joyous ceremony that applauded the death of other tributes to ensure the victors felt like they had a purpose. and each year, dawson could swear his delusions in the capitol got harder to separate from true reality. at least the suit & tie made him seem put together. the night was dwindling, coming to an ever - anticipated end & he couldn’t be happier. of course, they were still stuck in the capitol for a while until the comfort of being home would be achieved. HOME. as if he really had one anymore.
the announcement instills an overwhelming amount of irritation somewhere deep within the victor’s chest, jaw clenching & unclenching until the speech comes to an end. it’s not that he didn’t want to be held responsible for taking care of his district with rory & the others, but dawson didn’t trust himself with that kind of power. he won for him, like most of them did. and maybe that was selfish. still, as the gala threatened to come to a close, he’d approached the girl from three with a second glass in his hand before extending it out to her with a forced capitol smile. it was for onlookers, of course. “ soleil, right ? ” as much as he hated to admit it, he kept up with games after his own. and if his memory served correctly, she wasn’t too far after him. “ just about eight years & you’d think i’d be able to say that with confidence, right ? i’m terrible with names. ” they’d passed each other on occasion, of course. coming from different districts, dawson could only assume they’d ever really be able to talk when these kinds of ceremonies came around. “ oh, and remind me to get your stylist’s information or somethin’ because mine has no fuckin’ clue what he’s doing. ”
