𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 | f. odair

𝟏𝟗 ✫ 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤

    Another knock sounded, but this time it was followed by the doorknob clicking and a familiar figure poking her head in cautiously. "Knock, knock, knock." Tatyana called out, scanning the room until she found the young victor curled up in the bed, looking like hell itself. Tatyana stepped further into the room and placed a hand on her hip. "Oh, honey. You look like shit."

     Sage didn't bother to lift her head as she responded. "Thanks. I feel like shit, too." If Tatyana is here, that means Bird and her Prep Team must be here also. It only made her groan at the thought of seeing them again.

    "Did you sleep at all last night?" Tatyana questions concerningly, coming in further and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

    Sage just shook her head the best she could and thankfully Tatyana understood. "Walker's been keeping me updated. He's told me about your, well, your binges and recent fascination with alcohol."

    "Walker talks too much." Sage mumbled absentmindedly.

     "Walker the talker." Tatyana jokes, laughing to herself and frowning when Sage barely showed any emotion. "Oh come on, kid. That was funny. I'm a funny person. Acknowledge my excellence."

    Sage wanted to laugh. She really did. Tatyana was one of those people who can make you smile even in the darkest of times. She never expected to form such a strong bond with the woman who was paid to dress her up and help parade her around like a prize calf in an auction. But Tatyana is nothing like she had expected her to be. She is not like the others in the Capitol or like Bird. She was real and she was true and she hated the Hunger Games as much as the Districts do.

    Sage really missed her these past six months. She missed her bluntness and sarcastic personality. She missed her wild cat-like eyes and her exotic animal print clothing. She hates that she lived with all those people in the Capitol because despite her appearance, Tatyana Baldwin is nothing like them. She was pure and kind and just plain wonderful.

    Sage liked her because she was a lot like herself. Both stubborn and strong-minded. Both sucked into a life they never wanted. Tatyana, forced to become a stylist by her own mother who groomed her to take over for her once she stepped down and Sage, forced to become a victor without meaning to, just to get justice for someone she cared for more than she should've going into the games.

    "Honey," Tatyana said softly, crawling over to the girl and pulling her into her arms. "Sage, please talk to me. I want to help, but I don't know how. You can't keep it bottled up inside of you and going down this path. Please talk to me, sweetheart. Please."

    With those words of encouragement is why she felt safe to tell Tatyana this... knowing she would understand more than anyone else. "I can't do it, Tatyana. I can't live with this. I don't know what to do. Drinking... it doesn't help. Not really. It only helps me forget but I hate that. I hate this feeling of weakness and disorientation and helplessness. I hate feeling helpless, I haven't felt that way since I was young... and I mean really young. I've never relied on anything more than I relied on my mind. It's the best thing I have, my extraordinary memory.  It is the one thing I know for certain I didn't get from my mother. Now, it's causing me to become something I hate."

    Sage angrily wiped her cheek when she felt a tear falling down, so sick and tired of all this crying bullshit. She was over it, but it was like the arena kick started her limbic system that she thought was broken after her mother's death. His death kicked started the part of her brain that never wanted the tears to stop.

    Tatyana squeezed her tightly. "Okay, first things first, that extraordinary memory of yours is not the best thing about you. Sure, it is an important part that defines you and makes you who you are, but it is not the best thing." Tatyana stated sternly, looking down at the red faced girl who she had fallen in love with like she was the little sister she never had, or more like the niece she never had. "There are so many wonderful things about you, Sage Rowan."