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✧ ▬ ˋˏ 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 ˎˊ ▬ ✧ ❝ 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒔 ❞ ༻#ˋ 。✩ 。ˊ#༺ in death we trust
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❝ it's hard to be at a party / when i feel like an open wound ❞
THIS IS ME TRYING / TAYLOR SWIFT.
﹙ chapter seventeen, act two ; cage the victor﹚ mara cayden.
somewhere in the capitol. july, 70 att.
THE WORLD IS DARK. Midnights in the arena don't compare to this. It's like a curtain has been pulled over the world, blocking out the moon and stars, leaving Mara with nothing. Shadows drape over the forest, inky black, and in the background there seems to be drums beating. Then again, it could be her heart jumping erratically. Running with no way of telling in which direction, she puts up her arms to shield her face from the scratches of branches that pull her back, trying to reclaim her as their own. After all, she really ought to be dead.
