with maya // hunger games [re-writing some chapters]

Chapter 3

***Okay just to let you know, this kind of might be a long chapter, idk. merci pour la lecture ;)***

 I wake to the soft rocking of the train and the sunlight flickering through some trees by the train tracks outside.

Well that's how I want to wake.

Instead, I  fly across the room, and knock my body bruised and numb against the wall.

Well, I didn't smash my body against the wall, I landed on a heap on my left, banging my head on the corner of a glass desk.

Double glaze!

Why would they have double glaze on a desk?! 

It's like they want to hurt us in case we trip!

I clamber to my feet and pull the door of the wardrobe and change into a grey oversized jumper with -these leather pad thingies on the elbows but lace- and jeggings.

I stumble into the living area and collapse on the sofa.

"Someones been on the alcohol." someone sniggers behind me, and guess what?

Finnick Odair.

"No I haven't." I snap, "The train jolted and made me trip and banged my head against the double glaze glass desk."

"Aw, don't worry," laughs Finnick running his fingers through his gleaming bronze hair as bright as the golden sunsets that streak across the falling night back in 4.  "I won't tell Erza how many bottles of her best wine you drank."

As he said bottle, a funny stomach pain swept over me and I felt my neck to see if my necklace was there. Thank goodness it is.

"Seriously," I sigh, "Anyway, what made the train stop?"

"Geese and ducks." He replies, popping a sugracube in his mouth, "lots of them too. If you haven't noticed it's been 7 minutes and yet the train is still as a tree trunk with sturdy roots. The journey to the Capitol is delayed because there's been so many overnight."

I nod subtly as I tie my hair in a low, side ponytail.

I collect some breakfast which is, sausages, bacon, and Hawaii toast.

As I pour a glass of strawberry milk, I notice a ceramic sugar pot thing in streaks of blue and green with red fish. On it says Finnick's Sugarcubes.

As my eyes scan it, Finnick looks up from picking up our district loaf from a cupboard.

"Who made it? And what is your addiction with sugarcubes?" I ask as Finnick literally lunges at the pot and holds it possessively, even stroking it.

"Annie made it and my addiction? I was born this way." He whispers. hardly looking up from his beloved sugar.

He has a sugarcube where-ever I see him. Making a speech, surfing, buying something, fishing, sugarcube planet revolves around him.

And he's the King of Sugarcubes.

I heard that he had an anklet with clay (translucent) sugarcubes.

And he owned a field of cane sugar in District 11.

No gossiping intended.

I just heard from this group of girls at my school who are the most popular.

They speak SO loudly.

They're really nice though.

Unlike someone.