@fallengxddesss
There was a tension in his shoulders, his set jaw, eyes glued to the same screen that had remained unchanged for hours on end. Annie Cresta was HIDING. While war was raging around her and the verdant grass was stained red, her hands were gripped around no weapons, but instead her shoulders in a meager attempt at comfort in a world on FIRE.
Mentors often meant the difference between life and death for their tributes, but there was little to be done when Annie did not seem to possess the will to combat the flames.
It was day two.
He exhaled, dragging a wrist across bleary eye. The weight of the bags beneath them was tangible. He had a CLIENT to tend to in a few hours and he would not return until the break of dawn, an inconvenience, but he counted himself lucky to have a partner at his side. And a damn good one at that.
He and Athena slept in shifts so there was at least one pair of eyes on Annie at all times—like their very own Hunger Games. In this case, it was absolutely necessary since later hours so often occupied them BOTH.
A shift of the comforter ( such a familiar sound ) indicated the other had roused from her light rest in the bed behind him.
“ Athena, ” He prompted, gaze still locked upon the arena. “ I had a thought about getting Annie sponsors. I want to know what you think. ”
