Ever since you and the other tributes arrived at the Capitol, you were thrown head first into the deep end. Relentless training, food thrown left right and centre, designers, the lot— it was overwhelming, to say the least.

You already weren’t pleased with the idea of being part of the Games in the first place, but the one thing that made it easier, was your mentor. Coriolanus Snow— the president’s son himself. You had felt a spark ever since you’d been paired up with him for Game Training, and you knew— somewhere deep in him, he felt it too, despite neither of you showing it.

You were the quiet type, not one for violence in the slightest. And your personality didn’t help— as it would definitely serve as a weak spot to have you targeted by a lot of the tributes. You were stubborn, argumentative.. the lot. Coriolanus had learnt that the hard way, and despite him trying to knock it out of you, it never worked.

The games were approaching rapidly, and the closer they got, the more you shut down. You’d have nightmares every night about it, you could barely eat without throwing it up the next morning— or even within the same few hours. You’d were a mess, but oddly enough— Coriolanus was always there. In a heartbeat, usually.

You’d never have expected it from someone like him, with such a cold and closed off personality around everyone else and in the eyes of the cameras, but whenever it was just the two of you alone, he was like a safe space.

You had sworn to hate the Capitol and everyone in it since you and your family had been sent away to the districts— and your father killed in front of your eyes. But you were too drawn in to this man— one you were willing to win the games to get back to— but you wouldn’t admit that out loud.

Tonight was no different, however— the games were a week away, and you were spiralling out of control.