ＷＩＴＳ | ＭＡＲＶＥＬ ＨＵＮＧＥＲ ＧＡＭＥＳ ✅

ｔｈｉｒｔｅｅｎ

...I was a bootcamp. my bad g

Rye scratches her head, pulling anything from her scalp, as bubbles and white foam cascade down her. She sighs in pain, finding her left arm stiff and almost impossible to move comfortably. So with that in mind, she lets it drop to her side and hang instead, trying to scrub the grease and sweat from her hair. It was hard, but she was able to have her scalp feel clean and nice. Despite the annoyance of being able to only use one arm, Rybbon knows it could be worse. She remembers one time in District 3, her wrist was sprained so badly she wasn't able to work. She tried to, truly, but it was almost impossible without her crying over the equipment. So, she decided it was time for Cook to start working. He wasn't the best when he started, however, he was able to keep the two somewhat afloat for two weeks until her wrist was well enough to where she could work again. It was a hard two weeks for her and Cook.

Cook.

She hadn't thought about him for a bit, and knowing that made her feel guilty. She wishes she could have him on her mind at all times, however, it was hard to due to the state she's in.

"I still hate myself," she sighs, in defeat, motivation lacking at the moment. Turning the water off, she wraps the towel around her, not bothering to even brush the knots from her hair. She throws on a pair of pajamas, it soft against her skin like always. Her feet patter loudly, her hair dripping water and soaking the bottom of her feet as well. Going to the terrace once more, she shivers violently as her hair soaks through her shirt. Despite how cold she is, Rybbon sits on the edge as she did before, looking out to the Capitol.

No thoughts seem to run through her mind. All she feels is sorrow, the cavity in her chest filling up with sadness. It makes her want to lean, hoping the Capitol people accidentally turned off the force field. Just maybe...

"You really shouldn't do that." Her head snaps to the voice, seeing Cook sitting in front of her. He looks tired, eyes a bit sunken in and hair unruly. However, his skin is clean as are his clothes. He's wearing a shirt she's never seen him in, but it looks nice. It makes her smile without thinking. "You still need to take care of me," he says, looking her in the eyes.

"I know," she smiles sadly.

"You need to take care of yourself."

"I am."

"No, you aren't." His words make her raise her brow. "Your hair is still soaked and you're shivering. You skipped dinner. You hurt yourself." His face is filled with disappointment. All Rybbon can feel is an embarrassment. She's supposed to be the one in charge. She's supposed to help him, take care of him. Now she can barely take care of herself. It's depressing.

"I know. I'm sorry." She goes to hold his hand, only for him to pull back, making her retract as well.

"Take care of yourself, Rye. I still need you," he says, words soft and quiet. It makes her take a deep breath, remembering why she's doing all this. For him. For him and only him.

Getting up with some effort, she walks inside and to her room. Grabbing her towel, she forces herself to dry her hair and braid it, before forcing herself to change shirts and put on a jacket. She then drags herself to the dining area, grabbing a piece of fruit before returning to the terrace, discovering Chase sitting there.

"When did you get here?" she wonders aloud, making him flinch and turn to her once again.

"A few minutes ago. I haven't been here long." Rybbon moves to sit next to him, admiring the scenery once more. Forcing herself to bite the apple, she cringes slightly, her stomach instantly feeling sick. However, she continues eating until it's only the core. She swallows roughly, her stomach gurgling at the food now there. She tries to distract herself, however, by starting a conversation up.