[𝕬𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖆]
(N) Lack of self control;
the state of mind in which
someone acts against their
better judgement through
weakness of will.
❝They wanted a monster. I decided to give them one.❞
Pre 'The Hunger Games' - Mockingjay Pt2
Started - 18 f...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗱𝗶𝗲."
✧ ✦ ✧
𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒. She couldn't find the will in herself to move. She didn't want to do anything but cry.
Going into the games at just 13 years of age was hard on her, as expected. She came out a different person. She was a nervous person, very untrustworthy, she even found it difficult to trust her brother.
So she shouldn't be surprised that Snow, who had told Darcie on many occasions to trust him, would break that exact trust.
Yet she was.
Part of her thought, for just a moment, that maybe the act he put on in front of the capital was the slightest bit real.
But of course it wasn't. Snow was an evil and cunning man, with no sympathy or care for anyone other then himself.
He had promised the victors a happy, peaceful life after the games, yet sends them back in the second he gets the chance.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a firm knock on her front door.
Darcie stiffened slightly for a moment, before pushing herself up, sniffing and wiping her eyes, as she walked over to the door, brining her confident and strong persona back over her face.
She twisted the golden handle and opened the door slowly, revealing a tired looking Huxley. His eyes were sunken and blood shot, he had clearly been crying.
His lips twitched upwards slightly at Darcie as she stood there, staring blankly and uncaringly at him.
"Huxley." She nodded at him, greeting him in her usual way, and stepped out of his way, gesturing for him to come inside.
He smiled warmly at her, yet it only lasted a moment as he remembered why he was truly there.
"How are you?" He asked, as he strode nervously into her house, it was unusual for Darcie to allow anyone in her space, he'd only been there a handful of times in the years he'd known her.
"Stupid question." She stated, shutting the door and leaning against it.
"I guess." Huxley hummed in agreement, "I'm going to assume bad."
