yourcapitolcouture:
The Quarter Quell. Yet another year of the Hunger Games, yet another year of pure, volatile death. Finnick could handle it.
It wasn’t like the Victor to break down, practically swimming (mind the pun) in pain and suffering—no, he was capable of more things than that. Sadness came in many shapes…
As soon as Mags had heard her name at the Reaping, she became worried and stressed at the same time. Though it was only in her head and barely noticeable for the people around her. The scars on her mind were still fresh as it wasn’t a long time ago since she’d won the Games - at least, compared to the other tributes, it wasn’t. Bloody visions and nightmares scared her every night and she often woke up, screaming to herself to run away.
During the train ride, she watched the other Reapings and immediately noticed she was the youngest of them all. A sigh left her mouth as the screen turned black. The Capitol escort passed by with a glass of some blue liquid in her hands. There wasn’t anything more striking at that moment.
