Feb 14, 2014
"I've been struck by Cupid's arrow."
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"I've been struck by Cupid's arrow."
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"Is...Is that a squirrel? S q u i r r e l."
"Hate you."
It was a gradual realization. Day by day, the idea grew from a nagging suspicion to a simple fact of life. It took a slow tour through the districts for him to know for sure.
Marvel had no place any longer.
There was no place in any district or any place that Marvel could live, no place that would accept him. He would never dare to crawl back to his family - he would only be refused, anyway. There were few people he even knew he could call a friend, but he couldn't be a burden.
Maybe... Maybe in the Capitol he could find something - maybe there would be a home. But Marvel turned his head to the train station, all of his possessions on his back, he knew that was a lie. Marvel made his mistakes, now he would have to live with them. And he would live with them alone.
"I wasted the 'sad and plentiful handjobs' card for nothing? I hate this stupid game."
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"You'd think there'd be better security around here."
"Fuck!"
The curse had left his lips before he even had the chance to stop himself, though the throbbing in his foot gave him some excuse. He grabbed the weight and - in his frustrated anger - tossed it towards the opposite wall. After the projectile had landed, he sighed and slid to the ground, his head in his hands. He had wanted to work out - to work his muscles for the first time since the Games. He had wanted the release that came with working all of your anger out.
But today, that wasn't going to happen.
mockingjay-of-district12 reblogged your post:
"What on earth could we have to talk about?"
"A few things... If you'd listen, that is."