* / — odairing

THE  GLASS  CONTAINER  IS  UNCORKED  then  tipped  into  an  elegantly curved  glass.  this  is  a  motion  finnick has  performed  countless times  in  service to  a  buyer, but  not  until  recently  has  this  beverage of  deep  cerise  been so…  unconventional.  he  had  thought he’d  seen  it  all.  he  had  been  wrong. the  metallic  scent  wafts  upwards, and  he  thumbs away  a  stray  drop  clinging to  the  lip  of  the  bottle.  this  is  his  second night,  here.  he  wonders  how  close  he  came  to  becoming  the  contents  of  one  of  these  bottles. he  wonders  if  she  will  grow  bored  of  him,  and  wonders if  that  fate  is  what  will  happen when  she  does.  he  doesn’t trust  the countess,  but  he  is  an  actor  of  impeccable talent  with  a  thousand  intricately crafted  masks  at  his  disposal, one  of  them  being  her  lover. he  turns,  ocean  hues  greeting that  of  the  other,  then  approaches,  handing her  the  glass. “  there’s a  frequenter  at  a  strip  club  a  few  blocks away.  I’ve  known  him  since  I  was  sixteen,  and  he’s  known  me  as  well.  ”

he  sits  upon  the  mattress at  her  side,  lips  parted in  thought,  eyes  softened  with  feigned  innocence,  but  sharp  in  alertness.

“  if  it  pleases  you,  darling, I  think  I  can  rather easily  sway  him  to  come  with  me  here. I’m  somewhat  convincing, you  see.  ”  a  smirk  flickers onto  his  expression, fading  almost  as  soon  as  it  appears. he  does  not  sway  from  her  gaze.  “ once  he’s  here,  I  want  to  tie  him  to  the  bed,  and  he  will  let  me  do  it.  after  he  is  restrained,  I  want  to  kill  him.  slowly. I  want  him  torn apart.  ”  head  tilts  almost  curiously. “  you’ll help  me?  ”

she  is  far  more  experienced in  murder  than  he,  but  he  prides himself  on  being  a  quick  learner. finnick  is  a  survivor, and  he’s  vicious and  cunning  as  a  serpent. his  lover  needs  to  feed,  and he  happens  to  know  plenty of  individuals  who  are  deserving of  facing  such  wrath,  individuals who  not  only  does  he  know  their  names and  general  locations,  but owns  a  piece  of  each  of  their  hearts.  how  easily such  vile  creatures fall  desperately  in  love  with him,  and  his  heart  races  in  pleasure at  the  thought of  betraying  that  foolish  trust  in  a  gush  of  gorgeous  crimson, an  avalanche  of  screams. the  countess  does  not  love  him,  but  she  is  so  tantalizingly capable  of  helping him  exact  revenge, and  has  so  much  to  gain  from  it  all!  it’s  so  perfectly  crafted in  theory…  

the  tales  that  fall  from  his  tongue somehow  surface  easier  to her  than  to  another.  she  feels  like  a  vault  of  secrets, someone  who  holds  no  real  affections  for  him,  no  real  desire to  use  these  emotions  for  his  gain  or  suffering, simply  a  weapon  he whispers  to.  he  continues  in  a  detached murmur.

“  he’s  only  one  of  the  endless  who  have  ruined  me  over  and  over  and  over  again.  and  the  anger  is  rotting me  from  the  inside.  I’m  hollow  now. there  is  nothing left  of  me.  I’m  broken, I’m  numb,  I’m  dead  and I  will  never  live again  because  of  people  like  him.  he  ripped  away  everything  from  me,  and  I  want  to  make  him  to  feel…  just  the  smallest amount  of  agony  I’ve  endured  because of  him.  I  don’t  want  him  just  to  regret touching  me,  or  ever  crossing my  path,  I  want  him  to  wish  he was  never  born.  I’ve  been  angry  for  a  long time,  love.  I’ve  never  gotten to  indulge  that  rage  before  now—  you  will  help  me,  won’t  you?  ” voice  carries  with  it  a  submissive  plea.  he  reaches  and  tucks  a  lock  of  white  blonde behind  her  ear,  palm  coming to  rest  against her  cheek.  he  thumbs  it  back  and  forth,  gaze  begging for  her  approval. “  don’t  I  deserve  it? after  so  much  pain?  ”  

     how closely she watches him , her newest toy . he is beautiful , and he is full of rage . it nearly matches her own ( or maybe it does , but the countess does not want to admit it ) , and it is why she was drawn to him in the first place . this relationship , if it can be called such , is not built on love or mutual adoration … no , it is much more shallow than that . self serving , even . finnick wants revenge upon those that wronged him , that hurt and took advantage of him . elizabeth wants revenge upon those that have lied and hurt her … that took away what she so desperately yearned for still ; even after all these years .

     so she’d taken him in , had promised him every ounce of wrongdoing would be repaid to him … it’s the least he deserves , right ? having gifted the male the ancient blood virus she herself possesses , they now have all the time and energy and drive in the world to do as they please . no one — no man , woman , or child — should be taken advantage of . no one should be used for someone else’s pleasure or entertainment . it is why they have made these plans , and it is why he brings her a chalice of crimson liquid in their bed . this is not love , this is a business transaction … with a little bit of excitement for just the two of them thrown in there . she may have an unhealthy obsession with what finnick has to offer , but she knows better than to fall in love . she knows he doesn’t love her , either , but she presents him with the opportunity to do as he pleases , however he pleases .

     with the glass in hand , the countess will smile . emerald eyes are intent upon the male before her as he sits beside her , the woman herself in only her silk kimono as a light sip is taken from the chalice . but not a word is spoken . not on her end , at least. finnick has much to say , and all she wishes to do is listen . his anger and hatred and pain fuel her own , and it’s why she will lean into the touch of her lover without hesitation and without breaking eye contact . what falls from her lips is nothing but the truth .     “ you deserve more . ”     her words are a near growl as they are spoken , but her voice is soft like velvet all the while . with her drink still in one hand , she’ll lift her free one to cradle his cheek in return .     “ we can make it last for days if you’d like … drain him dry , little by little , while we play with him . and you can tell him everything he’s done to hurt you … make sure he knows why it’s happening . ”     promises , promises … all of which she intends to keep .