❨ healers & killers | daphne & mackenzie ❩

[eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris]

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin

Mackenzie Pryce was far more human than Daphne imagined.

His mansion lived up to her expectations, the polished wood and the gold accents — but not the broken man who greeted her at the door. His hair was a mess of tousled curls, a robe tossed lazily over his shoulders, and his eyes were so tired. She had the feeling that, if he could, he would fall asleep and never wake up again. He looked like sadness, like many quiet things; he looked like peace.

He did not look like a god. She was not blinded by the sight of him, her heart didn't race in her chest. His beauty was undeniable, there was no way his stylists could fake the sculpted lines of his body and the sharpness of his jaw, but it was odd to see him without the halo of a spotlight over his head — without that forced, white smile. He was handsome, but he was real. She could reach out and touch him.

Victors were only meant to be seen from a distance.

She cleared her throat, thrusting out a hand. "I'm Daphne Hirsch, the nurse you requested." Her expression softened, and she tried to remove all traces of shock and pity from her features. He was a patient first, a false prophet second. It was her fault for letting herself forget that just a year ago, he was just another boy in the town square — a boy she watched go off to his death, only to return.

"May I come inside?"

I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

words: 253
table: dars
song: somewhere only we know
- keane, covered by renee dominique

[umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]]

you can't wake up
this is not a dream
you're part of a machine
you are not a human being

He'd grown used to the pain; took it with a beer in the evening. But it was also reminder, he decided, hazel eyes staring down at the scarred words written onto his palm, of things lost. Of things he could never have again. Of Wynter, yes, but also of Faline, and Ike, and Stitch, and Akira, and Anduril, and every forsaken soul that was taken so that he could live.

It wasn't the pain that made him agree when Max begged him to let someone look at it; it was the memories. He still had dreams that ended with him waking up to a throbbing palm, those three carved words like fire at his fingertips. That last night Wynter was alive, when she was so beaten and so broken, when he closed his eyes and opened them again only to find her overtaken by insects.

The buzzing. That alone was enough for him to agree.

He heard the girl on his porch before she knocked; maybe he'd been expecting something different when he opened the door: a middle-aged woman with wrinkles and a permanent frown, or a plump short woman who seemed too cheery.

This woman was beautiful. Tall, sure of herself.

"I'm Daphne Hirsch, the nurse you requested."

"My sister requested," he corrected, folding his arms together and leaning onto his door frame.

"May I come inside?"

He stepped back so she could enter, closing the door behind her. He stared down at the hefty tote bag she carried, wondering what kind of instruments she planned on torturing him with, before finally meeting her gaze again.

"I'm Mackenzie."

He held out his good hand.

"I expected someone, um-" he searched for the right words, "Older, I guess."

with your face all made up
living on a screen
low on self esteem
so you run on gasoline

song: gasoline
words: 279

[eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris]

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin

There was a strange kind of light in the victor's soul.

It shone through the shadows as he spoke — and Daphne realized that if people were places, things to be filled and abandoned, Mackenzie would be a lighthouse. There was a warmth to his voice that made her feel secure, in a way that she could almost ignore his haunted expression, but her medical eye was too trained; it was an instinct to look for the fractures in a person. Maybe she was a fool for wanting to put the pieces back together.

Mackenzie continued to play his role, like the sunrise over a black sea — and nothing drowned while he was there, and nothing was destroyed — but the fog settled in around him and the dust clung to his skin. His beauty was a lonely thing, a wounded creature hiding within the silence of a forest. And Daphne was a foolish girl, a daughter of Artemis. She saw a boy stripped of his godhood standing before her, who was unashamed of his morality.

She decided then and there that she respected him, that she could understand why he was one of Panem's most beloved celebrities. With a quiet laugh, she placed her tote bag on a nearby table and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Your sister must think that you're too stubborn for your own good. I bet you say the same about her." Daphne wanted him to feel comfortable with her, like they were old friends.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Everyone thinks it'll be some grandma that's come to patch 'em up." She snickered, before clearing her throat and reminding herself of her duties. "Can you fill me in on what's wrong? Where it hurts, how it's hurting, and the amount of time that it's been like this?" She stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him to one of the velvet couches in his living room. "Come on, let's— uh—"

She let go of him and moved away, smiling awkwardly. "Sorry about that. It's a habit. To be honest, this is my first time doing a job outside of the care center." She relaxed, but a blush still lingered on her cheeks. "Would you like to sit down and talk? I don't want to intrude."

I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

words: 385
table: dars
song: somewhere only we know
- keane, covered by renee dominique