↳ ❝ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒 ... 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒. ❞
The caverns of her dark soul were built from shards of shattered glass; each a testament to the labyrinth of trauma she has truly...
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𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 many things over the course of his life, but a girl like Khairiah Styx was certainly not one of them.
He watched through azure eyes as she hauled one of the Peacekeepers into a hidden broom closet – having picked the tedious lock only moments prior. Her presence was defied by a palpable sense of purpose, an unwavering commitment to the task at hand.
Finnick carefully admired her as a cascade of chestnut hair framed the sides of her face, falling haphazardly out from her ponytail while complimenting her face like gentle waves of autumn. She was magnificent, really – that much was certain – and her eyes were windows to a mind in perpetual motion, gleaming with the light of determination.
They are pools of depth, reflecting a keen intellect that refused to be swayed or extinguished by the distractions that danced around her. She seemed so ... stoic, calm almost. Finnick had never felt that way about himself, in fact, the older Victor was quite the opposite.
He'd constantly look at his reflection, and notice a strange weariness that was etched into the lines of his face, like a map that traced the arduous journey of a ship lost at sea. His cheeks that once held the flush of wild possibility are now hollowed, once pointed towards the horizon of hope, aspirations even, though he's now anchored mercilessly to a bottomless pit – tethered by the chains of Coriolanus Snow himself.
Each one of his steps is laden with the burden of choices made and their consequences; a waltz with destiny that has left him feeling like a mere passenger in the voyage of his own life. The treads of his once vibrant spirit seemed frayed, unraveling in the face of a reality that has proven more formidable than his youthful ambition.
