Coming from District 1 had its own luxuries, literally. Genevieve - Gen - Ashwood, like many girls from the richest District in all of Panem, simply could not wait to volunteer for the Hunger Games once she's turned 18.
But here she finds herself, r...
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I wondered if I could scream, shout, just anything to curse out the Capitol and their corrupted ways. I cried. Hot tears streamed down my face. My ears rang. The world around blurred.
Lapis, my friend, my brother, had been suffering, and I hadn't properly noticed. His long, sad face was tattooed on my mind, yet I remained oblivious. I had assumed his occasional burst of being upset had come from guilt. I had thought his sorrowful eyes had only held remorse and pain for having to kill other children, some of which had been his friends. But no, it ran deeper.
The Capitol wasn't even done with him, they had wanted more. And they'd do it to any of us. Have us reappear for a tour, even make us sleep with our old Sponsors. It would be my fate it I were to win.
Worst of all, Glimmer should have known too. And they didn't tell me anything.
The tears started to dry and harden, my cheeks turned stiff, and I furiously swept a hand through my hair. The city lights ahead of me blurred out, I slumped down, distraught, sniffling and hiccuping.
"I hate the Capitol." I gasped, loud enough for only me to hear. Or so I thought.
"That's a dangerous thing to say in the Capitol."
I whirled around, coming face to face with the boy from 12. His posture was guarded, but his eyes gentle. Blue eyes of pity. And I hated them.
"I might as well take risks, no?" I scoffed, my face still red and sticky.
He let out a soft laugh. "Then I should too. It's not like I'll live long enough to see the consequences." He then proceeded to sit next to me, without asking me if he could. Admittedly, I was too tired and angry to care.
"That makes both us then."
He looked surprised at my comment.
"What do you mean? You looked like you could cut anyone in half with that sword of yours. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared of you."
Yet you still sat next to me.
"And I would be lying if I said that I was ready."
"Ready? Ready for what?"
I blew air of my nose, still stuffy from my crying. "Anything. Dying. Living, even. It all just sucks."
He nodded contemplatively, choosing to stay silent. For a while at least.
"Would you like a tissue or something? Your constant sniffling is ruining the mood."
I rubbed at my eyes and laughed a bit. "I'll just go get one on the way back. Unless you magically have some on you."
"I do. Unlike you, I came prepared to cry." He quipped back, holding up the much desired tissue packet.
That elicited another laugh from me. "Thanks... I'm sorry, I really don't remember your name."
"Oh... right sorry! My name's Peeta. And you're Genevieve, right?"
"Gen." I blew my nose. "It's Gen."
"Well, it was nice to talk to you, Gen."
I smiled. "You too, Peeta." He smiled in return. "I- umm, could you not tell anyone about me, you know, crying?"
"Ah, right, don't want to ruin that Career image." He grimaced a bit. "Don't worry, your weeping secret is safe with me. No one can listen in to what happens up here, I've been told."
"Thank you."
And I left him alone on the roof, to his own thoughts, the tissue packet in his hand clenched tightly.
