soulless curses | {Owen/Gavin} blitz

[hesper hart 🐺 d9f]

"Seriously, I'm not hungry!" I protested for the thousandth time, though it didn't seem to be doing me much good. Jacquelyn had her hand on the small of my back, ushering me along through the building. Most of the place was locked up, foreign space that I would never get to see, but what was accessible, Jacquelyn had taken me on a tour of. "I don't care, Gavin. You have to eat." I sighed, coming to a complete stop. "Food should be the last thing on my mind right now? I should be training while I can!" She smiled. "No, you need to eat while you can. Train as much as you'd like, it won't do a bit of good if you starve."

Eventually I caved in and just let her walk me to the cafeteria, where only a few tributes were sitting, all scattered about the place in random spots, quietly eating their meals. I grabbed a plate and filled it with a muffin and a few slices of bacon, then looked for a place to sit. Most of the tributes I was there with were... less than impressive, but there was one that had drawn my attention a few times in training, and, like me, he was from a lower district. Eight or Nine, I believed. I walked over and sat my plate down directly in front of him, offering a small smile.

"Can I sit here?" I asked, and didn't wait for a response before throwing myself down in the seat. "What's your name? Mine's Gavin." Then I plopped a piece of bacon in my mouth and waited for him to respond.

table by zoe

gavin barker

[Deleted]

owen {♔} bowers-fox The luxuries that surround every aspect of the Capitol are innumerable, and that doesn’t exclude the delicacies that have been piled upon my plate day after day. At home, we had never been scratching at the ground for food, but we never had the privilege to be picky. We took what we had with gratitude and didn’t say anything about the few times that the plates weren’t as full as we would’ve liked. However, that’s gone in the opposite direction since I left the world of meagerness and stepped into one of gluttony. I’ve found myself turning away from the table with more than three-fourths of the original food still sitting there. My lack of appetite was met with stares of annoyance, and I could only cast my gaze to the floor to avoid them. It was for this reason gratitude filled my heart as I was dropped at the cafeteria to decide upon my own meal, instead of having it chose for me by those who have only known luxuries for so long that they don’t even seem to be special anymore. I take a few things, a muffin, a small bowl of assorted fruits, and a couple of pieces of bacon before finding an empty table in the middle of the room to sit down at. I enjoyed the silence my own company brought more than the senseless chatter that had accompanied the train ride or the clatter of weapons that resounded within the training center. However, my solitary company didn’t last long, as a boy whose name I did not know sat himself in front of me without a moment’s hesitation. Before I can get out a single word he begins, “Can I sit here?” (Although he’s already made himself comfortable). “What’s your name? Mine’s Gavin.” It’s then that I realize I’m required to make a response, so I set down the muffin that I had been tossing from hand to hand and look up, only to be met by a mop of brown curls hiding kind eyes. My response is shaky, or at least shakier than it should be when the only act of speech required is a name, “It—It’s Owen.” I mentally hit myself over the head for the lack of confidence that seeps through my words, and I let my gaze drift back down to my plate in hopes of hiding the embarrassment that’s seeped out of its hiding place in my mind and made its way to the words that already trouble me.