BLEEDING ⭒ the hunger games¹ [DISCONTINUED]

nineteen ⭒ bad memories

NINETEEN _ BAD MEMORIES

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MY TEARS RICOCHET _ TAYLOR SWIFT

❝and i can go anywhere i want. anywhere i want, just not home.❞

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I JOLT AWAKE at the crash of a rough wave on the beach. In the time that I was supposed to be on watch and ended up falling asleep, the tide has risen a surprising amount.

The water now laps at the rubber soles of my shoes, coming up beneath me and then trailing backwards.

Jax is not beside me- instead I find him a little way down the beach, near Radia, who is still sleeping, starting a hefty fire. He's doing it all wrong- I stifle my giggles at his attempts.

Slowly, I use my sword to lever my body into a standing position, and rear my legs into action. The salty air stings my nose, the bandages on it peeling and gritted with sand. I can feel my cheeks tinging pink with the red hot rays of sunlight beating down on me, and a sheen of boiling sweat coating my skin does nothing to protect me.

"Can't someone send me suncream?" I groan, looking up to the sky and rubbing my hands along my burnt face. My tongue flicks dryly at the roof of my mouth, and my lips crinkle as I purse them. "Or water. I would be very grateful for water right now."

I wait a second for any kind of response, any contact with the outside world, looking upwards for a magic parachute to appear and solve all of my problems. I'm met with only the merciless glare of the sun and the cloudless ocean above me.

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"You're doing that wrong." I blurt, my black shadow casting over Jax. His dark hair is wet, greasy and tangled from the salty water, and when he looks up at me, a bead of sweat drops from the tip of his nose. I don't know if that's from the heat or the determination to start a fire. Probably both.

"You do it then." He spits, handing me two dry branches of wood from cut, blistered hands. Apparently all friendly feelings from last night have been forgotten.

"Why are you even starting a fire anyways? I kneel in the sand and begin to spin the wood together. Soon enough, tendrils of smoke curl upwards, followed by sparks. "This wood will smoke. A lot. And I'm hot enough."

Jax's bottom lip curls at my complaining. 

"It's fine, I've dealt with this wood before back in district seven. If you keep adding small amounts of salt water, just enough so the fire won't go out, it doesn't smoke. It's amazing." His eyes sparkle as he talks proudly of his district, but his smile fades quickly and for a second the sparkles seem more like light reflected in tears. Jax's sudden emotion catches me off guard.

"Uh- why are we starting this fire, again?" My quick muddle of words seems to actually make sense in Jax's brain, and he rolls his eyes at me. Of course, he fails miserably at the eye-rolling, but it's funny to see the guy try.

"I went fishing." He holds up a bloody hook. Instinctively, I jolt backwards, reaching for the hilt of my sword at the mere glance of something sharp and covered in blood. Our eyes meet for a second, but I look down, shaking my head as I lean forwards again.

"I could only catch-" Jax clears his throat, avoiding my eyes. "-one, but I could probably get more if I went further out. Just didn't wanna risk it."