You were not thrilled to hear your name be called in the Reaping. To make things worse, nobody in your family dared speak up to volunteer for you. It slapped you in the face-- the reality of how much you're cared for. Your heart had fallen to your stomach. You remember the terror that ran through you at that moment. You remember saying goodbye to your family, the bitter taste in your mouth never going away. You remember boarding the train. But, when you saw your mentor, you relaxed a bit.

Finnick Odair, the youngest tribute to ever be reaped and make it out alive. The youngest to ever become a victor. You remember looking out the window, but your eyes kept flicking back to him, and his handsome features.

To think that FInnick was only 14 when he won. You couldn't help but think that he could help you by giving you as many tips and survival skills as possible.

*Time skip*

The pain that sears through your body is unbearable. Excruciating. It runs like molten lava through your veins-- through your bones. No matter how much the Capital doctors tried to console you in the hovercraft back to the Capital, it would only make you even louder. Even worse. This is the fourth dose of extreme painkillers they've put into you through an IV. It's sure to make you sick by how much they're pumping into you at once. They're trying to stabilize you. Clean your wounds.

You'd been through hell in the arena, and barely won as it is.

Finnick, standing outside of the room, stares through the glass doors. He sees himself in you. Steadfast. Brave. Strong. But, his heart aches, seeing you like this. Practically at death's door.