He saw you. You performed last night on the stage. You sung, oh god you sung. The voice of an angel.

The flowery dress with the pretty skirt. A little more makeup than usual. The smile that won many hearts. His tribute. His victor. His girl.

The girl he sacrificed it all for. Alive. “She’s alive.”

The following day, he found you in the meadows. Singing. Something about a tree. A hanging tree.

“..Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be. If we met up at midnight..” your voice held the sweet note. “In the hanging tree.”

A twig snapped beneath him and you turned. The Hunger Games had left you on your toes.

“They said I’d find you out here.” He said walking closer.