Writing Code:
(Y/N) = Your Name
(E/C) = Your Eye Colour
(H/C) = Your Hair Colour
(S/C) = Your Skin Colour *
*Don't see enough of these in fanfiction. Not everyone can visibly blush. So I will say "Your cheeks felt warm".
Estimated Reading Time for this Chapter: 15 Minutes and 16 seconds.
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“Hey,” a soft male voice encroached “You okay?”
I looked up at Peeta, who had concern etched across his face. I opened my mouth to respond; nothing but a sigh came out. My head reeled from the countless consequences that my actions could cause.
Glancing away from the youth, I noted my surroundings.
The Train cart had a warm glow to it, provided by the simple chandelier and a wall lamps. Four semi-circular, blue velvet chairs had been placed by the deep grey floral wallpaper and half bared windows.
Various types of wooden furniture occupied the area with special treats and fruits adorning them.
A narrow bar hid in the corner, stuffed with many extravagant products.
In the adjacent cubicle, from where I was sitting, a mahogany dining table was set on the soft navy carpet with matching blue velvet armchairs and a selection of artificial flowers.
Platinum and gold décor lined the rooms, the rich showing off their wealth and over-excessiveness.
The walls between the places bore the Capitol seal in black and white. I skimmed my fingers over the polished emblem, without realising I had risen to touch it.
Memories collided with me as I swung round.
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I bounced on the balls of my feet “Will I be performing again, Papa?”
I was around five-years-old with my Father and Godfather, heading to the Capitol. We located ourselves in the lounge area; my Parent sat across from my Guardian, who read the Capitol news. Artur scooped me up in his arms and nuzzled my face.
“Your Pops and I would be really sad if you didn’t, my little star.” He wailed. I loved the nickname he and my Mother presented me with.
Coriolanus gazed up from his digital newspaper “What do you wish to sing, dear?”
I pursed my lips in thought “Hmm… ‘The World Es Mi Familia’ and ‘Un Poco Loco’.”
“I’m not so sure about the first one, my little Snowball.” Uncle cut in. The man had an alternative nickname for me, he felt that being his ‘little snowball’ was more appropriate.
My Father grimaced at his friend.
“Why is that, Cori? I see nothing wrong with the song.” I sensed that there was a hidden meaning within Papa’s remark.
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IGNITING STARLIGHT (CANCELLED)
Fantasy(Y/n) Carlys Pheoneye is an isolated member of the dystopian society of District 12. Orphaned at a young age, (Y/n) finds herself in a loney situation when she gives up all she has to save a child from being Reaped for the 74th Annual Hunger Games...
