Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
ghosts of you
volume one; before
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
Coral Machen was not cold and heartless. She had a family, a boyfriend, and friends who she longed to return home to. She had a boat that she fished on everyday and a school that she barely attended. But Coral was not a fool, she knew she would have to become cold and heartless because that was the only way she could become a killer. She looked over to Elora, who sat so closely to Finnick their sides were pressed firmly against each other. She saw the pain in her eyes, the fear, but she also saw the way she wiped any essence of emotion from her face the minute a camera was present. Coral Machen had much to learn.
The reaping ceremonies played on the tv in the living cabin of the train. Coral has never seen luxury like this in her entire life. While district four was not a poor district by any means, they were simple people. The concept of a life full of luxury was so foreign to her that she had a hard time grasping that this would be her life should she win the games.
The district two female was being called when Corals attention was stolen by Elora's quiet voice.
"Clove is one to watch out for. You see that muscle tone in her arms? Her weapon of choice will be something small and long distance, throwing knives most likely."
Coral nodded her head, watching the reaping with intense concentration. She could not allow her mind to wander, not when her fiercest competitors were being displayed for show right in front of her. The district two boy was called and she felt fear settle into her stomach. This was what she was dreading. He walked onto the stage with an air of confidence that only a career could have. His shoulder were broad, his muscles defined and it was hard to deny that he was beautiful. Not only would he be deadly, he would gain the favour of majority of the sponsors.
Finnick opened his mouth to discuss the male tribute, to explain his physique and appearance and what that means for them. Coral was too distracted by the look on Elora's face.
It was strange, to see someone who was usually so closed off show a million emotions at once. She could see the dread, the fear in her eyes for her tributes and any other tributes who cross his path. She could see the appreciation for the hard work he's put in over the years. There's something else there too, a curiosity, attraction maybe.
As Elora gazes upon the district two male, she can't help but feel something ignite within her. Brushing it off, she returns her attention back to her tributes. Corals gaze is still upon her, and Elora almost shivers under the attention. Her eyes slip to the exposed wrist of her tribute and she feels her heart sink into her stomach once more. Coral had a soul mark, she had someone waiting so desperately for her to return home. She had someone who's soul was bound to hers. Suddenly, Elora was not responsible for lives of Coral and Beckett, but an unknown fisherman who would die without his other half.
✯¸.•'*¨'*•✿ ✿•*'¨*'•.¸✯
The train journey was long. While it may have been only a day, the memories of being on the exact same train and laying in the exact same room only two years ago replays in her mind. It was all too easy to slip into her old mindset. Elora Clarke was 16 years old. Her name was reaped for he 72nd annual hunger games. She would die in the arena the same way her brothers had before her. She was being carried to her death.
Shaking her head and attempting to gather air through her very tight airways, Elora forced herself to change her thoughts. Start with what you know is true. Elora Clarke is 18 years old. She was a victor of the hunger games, she lost two older brothers to the games before she was reaped. She lives in the victors village across from Finnick. Finnick is her friend.
She soothes herself ever so slowly, forcing herself to remember that she is not the same person she was two years ago. She is strong and determined and she is the thunderstorms that shake souls. Elora Clarke will not be defeated by something so simple as a memory.
Her eyes snap up as Finnick enters the room. His eyes droop with the lack of sleep, ghosts of his past dancing across his vision. She can almost see them, if she tries hard enough. His parents stand either side of him, a little sister flying above him. Finnick has more ghosts than Elora does. A selfish part of her hopes it stays that way.
He climbs into her bed wordlessly, cradling her in his arms as he did two years ago and has every day since. She feels herself shake as she thinks of what she would do without him, of who she would be. She knows that without him she would be dead by now. Maybe she would have made it through the games, powered by vengeance as she attempted to avenge her brothers. She knows for a fact that she wouldn't have survived the aftermath. Returning to a home where her parents can barely look at her anymore without picturing a trident in her hands, blood dripping of the spokes. Moving into the victors village to cope with her nightmares alone. The dreams alone would have driven her crazy. The blood was much worse. Dripping down her forearm and pouring from her heart, the blood stained everything she looked at.
"Thank you, for taking care of me"
He holds her tighter, and she shakes a little more.
