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not again ―please, not again
"DAEYRS! NO PLEASE DON'T GO! DON'T LEAVE ME― DON'T LEAVE ME DAEYRS! DAEYRS! DAEYRS!" Her screams echoed inside of her bedroom as she tossed and turned in her bed, her eyes welling up with tears as the nightmare was too true to be fake. Only a nightmare this painful had to come not a nightmare; rather a memory, a memory of how she failed.
After her hands grasped the velvet bedsheets, her mind recalled that she was no longer at the Hunger Games anymore, but at home. At Victors Village in District Two. Ophelia Starkov opened her eyes, panting heavily as she sat up from her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to make sense of the nightmare she had. But it wasn't like this was the first time.
Even though her relationship with Finnick Odair had strictly been for the praise of the Capitol, she knew that he would have been here in seconds to soothe her from the dream. Regardless of the age gap, the two had survived the games. They understood each other on that ratio, but she would always be known as his ex-flame.
Her dark brown eyes flickered over to see the glass of water that was on her nightstand before she went to bed, her hands trembled as she made her way to reach for it. And yet, the water soothed the dryness of her throat. But it could never wash away the pain that had clogged up her mind after she had been the victor of the 73rd Hunger Games.
Ophelia placed the glass back on the nightstand before grasping the mesh nightrobe that was lying down on the ground by the side of her bed. She hated how such a ghastly thing exposed all of her body when it was supposed to do the opposite, and yet, every item of clothing she possessed just had to add a seductive flare in its own way. That's what the Capitol wanted.
She tied the black satin tie around her waist, grimacing as the nightrobe exposed a good portion of her bare legs and dipped to where countless of her cleavage could be seen. Yet, she made her way over towards the large window in her bedroom, pulling away the curtains to look at the only fragments of nature from her district. Regardless of its beauty, it only recalled her to the bloodshed of the games.
It didn't take a genius to know that she had been dreaming about him again. That's what all her dreams where about ever since she had won the games. Sometimes, she would dream of a paradise; but that was normally rare. Every dream just had to be of Daeyrs, of her family, of what the Capitol and President Snow had forced her to be. Everything that tried to crumble her down, so she built her walls higher.
Her eyes lingered back towards the only two pictures that were in her bedroom, one of her family. To which, a happy Ophelia was surrounded by the people that loved and cherished her. The other, a gift from Daeyrs family when she visited District Eight during her Victors Tour. She had been lucky to at least speak to his family, the present was her only reminder that his family saw her as their daughter too.
