District 13 resembled an anthill, a hive of meticulous schedules, unwavering discipline, and a collective spirit of resilience amidst the stark realities of bunker life. Gray walls loomed, overhead lamps buzzed incessantly, and elevators screeched with each laborious ascent. Life felt like a perpetual Groundhog Day, a relentless cycle in which thought seemed unnecessary. Each day commenced with a new list, dictating every moment with rigid precision.

You grew into the role of a nurse, a vocation that fatefully led you to mend the wounds of one of the rebels, Finnick Odair. This charismatic soul, armed with his playful banter and charming compliments, emerged as a rare beacon of light in this shadowy existence. He coaxed smiles from your lips and painted warmth upon your pallid cheeks with his teasing remarks.

As he regained strength, his presence lingered, trailing you through the corridors, fabricating tales of being lost or feeling unwell—all to steal moments with you, to uncover the life concealed beneath your pristine white coat.

To your terror, you began to cherish Finnick, oblivious to the rules you shattered as he grasped your hand, leading you away from the confines of the bunker. “Come on, shed that sour expression. The world won’t crumble if you abandon your schedule once. Look around! Breathe in the fresh air!” Finnick beckoned, arms wide in invitation.