𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ᐅ 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙩

𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Night, Greenie.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

TW: vision

"Where does it hurt the most?" Jeff asks, handing me a damp towel to wipe my head and giving me a mirror so I can see where the blood is. My breath catches as I stare at the small mirror in my hands. I didn't even know we had these... if I did, I definitely would have asked to use one earlier.

I don't know the girl I stare back at, yet she seems to fit the exact description Newt gave me, and though I'm not at all like I imagined I'd be, I find myself not hating what I see staring back at me. I've got a button nose that's a little big at the bottom, freckles dotting the bridge of my nose that run up my flushed cheeks, thick eyebrows and long eyelashes. My skin is a warm honey tone, hiding the natural blush on my cheeks. Though, the most startling thing about me are my eyes. Newt wasn't joking, then, after all. I had two different coloured eyes — one a deep green with a tinge of grey flecks, and the other a dark brown, almost black. I stare at the gash on my head, wincing as a striking pain splits through my head when I dab it gently with the towel.

"Where does it hurt most?" Jeff repeats.

"My head," I reply.

Clint looks over at me while he rearranges the medical supplies. "What did you do to it?"

"Fell," I say blankly. Clint sniggers a little and Jeff sends him an incredulous side glance. "Well, since I was being chased by a griever, I'd say I did pretty well. Better than you would have done, anyway. I'm sure you would have klunked your pants," I snap, shooting daggars at Clint, who's smirk vanishes as easily as it came.

"Okay, Greenie, okay," he says, chucking and raising his hands in mock defence. I give him a little smile as Jeff looks at my leg and continues to interrogate me.

❀

"Are you okay?" Newt asks me when he collects me to take me to the Slammer, his voice low and delicate. He dips his head to meet my gaze, searching my face.

I put on my mask.

"Yes, Frog-face. I'm perfectly fine," I lie smoothly.

"I don't buy it," he says simply, blocking the door when I try to exit the room. "A whole night out there alone and you expect me to just believe that you're okay? No. I'm not stupid, Alethea."

"I know you're not," I say, trying to move him aside, but he doesn't budge. "But, as I said, I'm okay."

"You can lie to everyone else. You can't lie to me. I see straight through ya."

"Well maybe you need glasses," I say with a sardonic smile, opening the door and stepping through, Jeff and Clint not far behind. Newt waits by the door for a minute before following me.

Night is swiftly falling, the reds and purples of the sky fading into darkness, illuminated by small sparkles in the sky, like little sequins sewn to a navy fabric. Jeff and Clint made me have a nap before I had to be put in the Slammer — from the glares Jeff and Clint send Gally as we exit Homestead, I'm guessing they're not too thrilled with the premise of my being in the Slammer for the night. Jeff and Clint nod briskly at me before joining the others.

Newt has a soft grip on my forearm while he walks with me. I roll my eyes at him, slapping him playfully upside the head and he glares at me. "Is the pulling me really necessary, Frog-face?"