chapter ii.

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ᴀᴛʟᴀs͙.

⋆˚₊✦ੈ*———♆———ೄྀ࿐

"Are you trying to drown?"

She almost immediately regretted automatically looking up at the man's voice. As her caramel irises had instantly and sharply hit the cold blue ones she wished she was underwater again like she was seconds ago. To hold breath and let the villa's pool swallow her. Just like she allowed the sea and the sunset yesterday.

Atlas liked to think that at seventeen she had long since grown out of the rebellion. And then her father spoke to her...

"No," she replied in a harmonious tone, her face not allowing any negative emotion to enter. "I wouldn't do you such a favor."

Clydon Nox shook his head disapprovingly, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze as stern as usual. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes. "In an hour, the Reaping starts and you are contentedly enjoying swimming right now?!"

Atlas raised an eyebrow. It was fascinating how he hadn't been interested in her for twelve whole years and not even now, but once the spotlight was on or the Games were involved, he was suddenly following her every move closely.

"Should I try to swim less contentedly?" she asked casually, her pupils shining with playful sparkles.

If looks could kill, thanks to Clydon, Atlas would have been pushing up daisies from below long ago. Once they weren't in public, they both tacitly agreed that they were free to hate each other.

"You should volunteer as a tribute."

Atlas smiled softly, almost amused. Of course, that was his answer. The Hunger Games were the only way he could get rid of her without looking like a monster in front of the district. After all, the mayor had to take care of his reputation.

The corners of her lips froze slightly, her thoughts drifting to her brother's Games. To his bloodied battered body lying in the middle of the frozen lake, to the figures standing over him, to the guttural scream of their mother.

"No." Her response was forceful, her tone firm and fearless.

"I saw you fight," said her father. "You have a chance to win."

A chance...

Her mouth formed into an almost sarcastic, pained smile. All her childhood she wished for a father, and when she finally had one, God, how she wished she could take that wish back. She longed to go back to the time when she wasn't the sister of the dead tribute, when she wasn't the illegitimate daughter of the mayor and his past lover who hanged herself. Now she had the wealth and surname of the House of Nox, she had learned to be a first-class actress and martial arts student, admired by all her classmates for who-knows-why, and won several singing awards. But was it worth it? No. It was absolutely not.

"I don't have a chance to win," she told him and soared onto the tiles surrounding the pool, water flowing in streams from every millimeter of her body. "No one has."
nemá."



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ꜰɪɴɴɪᴄᴋ.

⋆˚₊✦ੈ*———♆———ೄྀ࿐

"Breathe."

"I'm breathing," he said through his teeth and once again sat down on the chair. The shirt clung uncomfortably to his body, scratching him, and every moment he felt more and more that he was going to cough it all up and just tear the stupid collar off. Seriously, who the hell invented collars?!

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