'I don't wanna die, I sometimes wish i'd never been born at all' -Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen
He's the Capitol's Golden boy, she's the famous child of a Victor...
-Finnick Odair X female oc
-pre Hunger Games -> Mockingjay part 2
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Before she knew it, the 68th Hunger Games were right round the corner.
Lyra knew that her name would be picked from the bowl, it's inevitable. Caspian got lucky. He escaped his fate when someone volunteered. Snow wouldn't make the same mistake again. Her theory is that she will be reaped this year as a safety net so in case anything did go wrong, such as someone volunteering, she would become a Tribute the following year. She knew it. It wouldn't be a surprise if Snow came up with some sort of 'volunteer banning' or something.
Lyra found herself sat with her legs crossed at the edge of the docks, alone.
There was light rain falling from the sky and the waves were rougher than usual. They were overlapping each other aggressively, like they were in some sort of race or game, fighting for first place.
Lyra had her red hair tied back into a french plait to keep it out of her face but nothing could tame the strands of hair at the front that would never obey.
The wind picked up, causing the girl to clench her jaw as she shivered.
Lyra Holland had always been pretty, she got that from her mother. Not in the typical 'blonde hair and long legs' kind of pretty like Florence, but attractive nonetheless. Over the past year, however, she seemed to have really grown up. Being seventeen years of age now, you would expect such things. She visibly looked more mature, being taller and having a more defined figure. She had a defined jawline compared to the round baby face she used to have. Her hair was still the exact same shade of ferocious red and she still had freckles dotted on her nose and cheeks. Her pale blue eyes seemed to have darkened slightly, but only a little. She had begun tying her hair pack into one french braid, starting around the middle centre of her head. Her disobedient strands of hair that stuck out of the plait at the front framed her face nicely.
She was a beautiful young woman, little did she know what a disadvantage that would become.
As the orange sky grew dark, Lyra decided to head back.
She stood from her spot at the docks, watching the dark stormy sea battle for victory, then turned away and walked along the beech back towards the Victor's Village. She climbed the fence like she had almost every day for as long as she could remember, oblivious to the pair of sea green eyes watching from the house across the street.
She took her sandy shoes off at the door and took a deep breath before calling out to her father and brothers, "I'm back!"
Cole, who is now seven, came over and gave her a hug, "come look what i've been doing!"
The brunette boy dragged his sister into the living room where a notebook sat on the coffee table surrounded by pencils. On the open paper, there was a drawing of the beach. The sky, different shades of orange and pink, the sea, different tones of blues and greens, the sand, different pale colours of yellow and peach and brown. He got the artistic gene like Amber had. He'd started using the paints and canvas' in her room too. It was nice, to have that smell of paint flowing through the house again.
"Wow, you're getting good huh?" Cole smiles as his sister inspects the drawing. "You shown dad?"
Right on cue, Jared Holland came down the stairs and into the room. "Hey hon," he kissed his daughter on top of her head before crouching to the ground to see what Cole was rambling about. Lyra smiled as she watched Cole talk enthusiastically about his drawing and how he's gonna paint the world someday.
She left the two alone and followed the scent of fish stew. Her mouth watered at the family recipe as she stepped into the kitchen, "hey Cas, smells good."
"Of course it does," the boy smirks as he puts down the stirring spoon and turns to his sister. "How you feeling?"
They both knew that, unless someone volunteered, she would be reaped tomorrow.
"I'm okay, I don't want to think about it," she took a deep breath before smiling. "I just want to spend tonight with my family. So come on and serve, i'm starving."
Caspian smiles at his younger sibling as she took glasses of water out to the table. He didn't miss the way her eyes lingered on Amber's place before putting the glass down in their dad's spot.
She played the piano that night like she always does, the beautiful melody flowing off the walls of the room like water in the sea. She sung along too, having mastered multitasking now. Her voice wasn't as angelic as her sister's had been but it was still harmonious; Lyra must've gotten a musical gene.
After an hour, it was just Caspian and Lyra left, their younger brother and father having gone to bed.
The nineteen year old glanced down at his chest where the necklace his sister had made him all those years ago still sat. He still wore it every day.
"Hey," he whispers into the quiet house. "You know you'll be okay, right? No matter what happens. You're stronger than you think, you're not a little kid anymore. You've grown into a strong, brave young woman. Mum and Amber would be so proud, I know they would."
Lyra just smiled at her brother as she fought the tears welling up in her eyes, allowing him to kiss her temple, "try get some sleep, okay?" She nodded.
Lyra was left alone again.
She looked around the room. Glancing at Amber's paintings that were hung up, framed pictures of the family, a stain on the carpet from where Cole had spilt juice, a loose thread on the pillow from age, the dent in her fathers armchair from him sitting in it constantly, her piano where she'd play her heart away.
