#trinkets.

excuse me, actual katniss in my inbox, what r u doing.

now that you’re here, tho -- 

i’d like to alert everyone on my dash to this angst-ridden girl on fire. yes, she’s a little depressing. yes, her and peeta come up with 293840298349823 different ways to hurt the masses. but you know what? give her a break. her sister blew up.

http://4needlework.ru/post/103044526077

He closes the shop when he feels it's late enough. Midnight, eleven pm, ten pm - as the cold begins to settle in and the first snows come to fall, he decides to close up a little earlier every day. There is no reason to continue using up electricity if there isn't going to be anyone inside, to be honest.

As he's locking up one rainy November night, he takes a moment to just press his hand against the chilly glass of the door. He lets it linger as he gets lost in a sea of his own thoughts. It's a very nostalgic feeling.

A small sigh and he's pulled himself out of his brain, has set himself back in reality. There are still many people on the Shinjuku streets tonight, despite the heavy rainfall. Most of them sport umbrellas, but there are some that dash from awning to awning, trying to keep dry in just a coat and a hood.

As he opens his own umbrella and steps out into the downpour, he can't prevent a familiar thought from resurfacing.

He is like the smoke that he pedals, forever flowing and mysterious. He is a secret wrapped in a lie, shrouded by enigma. This is his goal, to be truthful. He would rather have people know nothing about him than have them be close. People are designed to be social, but also designed to be inherently selfish. They will leave, and like this, he will not be hurt.