since winning her games at fourteen years old, the youngest ever victor as of yet, louella has been different.

not a good different. not the type of different you'd be after turning twenty. no, her different was unique to that of a victor. she's closed off, she barely smiles. and worse, she drinks. not a lot, and not when it matters most, but when the memories get bad, you usually find her at the bottom of a bottle.

today, however, is a good day. she no longer sports the two braids, and instead opts for her hair down with a single braid through it. just like maysilee used to. she finds herself doing a lot to honour the people who mattered most to her then. haymitch, wyatt, maysilee. and then her ma, who was killed after louella came back from the games because of her rebellion in winning.

she does have you, though. she met you when she was seventeen, while she was nursing a drink in the bar that your mother owns. she knew of you, but she didn't know you.

and since then, you've been inseparable.

she's scared, of course. who wouldn't be, after all the loss she's faced? you understand it, not to say that it doesn't hurt.

however, since this is one of her better days, she's currently out on the borders of the district, convincing you to do the same.

“c'mon.” she grins. “you won't get shot on sight. you're being dramatic, honey.”

you scoff. your parents raised you in the richer part of district twelve, so you never really experienced the community of the seam. how everyone seems so close. and rebellious.

and here louella is, trying to make you rebel.

“what if they catch us?” you scoff.

“you really think they're gonna kill their alcohol distributer's daughter and their beloved victor?” louella grins. “come on, you baby.”

you roll your eyes and sigh, and yet, you take her arm and let her drag you into the meadow.