PREDATOR | THE HUNGER GAMES

ELEVEN

"You went off the mat?"

She nodded nervously. Both her and Atlas glanced back and forth from their secluded corner of the hallway to make sure no other tributes were around. Atlas had waited outside after his assessment and she immediately pulled him to the side.

Lara hadn't confided in her worries with him before. Anything they'd spoken about regarding training concerned the both of them; it was never personal.

"Do you think it was a mistake?" she asked.

He shrugged, "There's nothing explicitly said against it. Although using paint as an undesignated weapon might be a small violation."

She cursed under her breath and looked out the window next to them. She couldn't believe she did that- pretty much royally screwed herself over.

She groaned in worry and felt the adrenaline crashing her system. Her arms and chest started to tremble, but Atlas grabbed her sides to steady her.

"You'll be fine. It could go either way," he assured, "Even still, you won't be the lowest ranking tribute."

She nodded but took a double glance at him. His look implied that he was the lowest. It made her wonder what he did in his assessment, but she decided against pressing.

He kept reassuring her as he began to lead them back to the ninth floor. Lara only composed herself entirely when the doors opened and Cal sprung up to greet them in the living room.

"Ah! There you are. How'd it go?"

The tributes quickly glanced at each other and kept quiet. Cal grimaced at the response but tried to put on a smile for them. He dismissed the question and rushed to pat their backs.

"I suppose I'll find out soon! Now go wash up and we'll eat before watching the scores."

The two separated with Lara locking herself in the bathroom and Atlas hiding away in his room. She turned on the shower, something she was still getting used to, and let the steam fill the room before stepping in.

One thing about her home she didn't miss was the dismal tubs they bathed in. A large metal bucket hardly compared to the luxurious shower streams here. The water never turned cold and the scent of sweat and grime was actually gone in its entirety, replaced by the smell of roses.

As the water ran down her face, she caught traces of red running down her body. She was sure it was a combination of flecks of paint and blood that had stuck to her skin. It soon disappeared down the drain.

Lara had stayed in the shower for quite some time, relishing in the peace and quiet it provided. She tried to recount any memory of home she could provide-desperately trying to use it to guard herself from the harshness of the Capitol and the upcoming bloodbath. It wasn't until Atlas knocked on the door that she had to get out.

She quickly dried herself off and wrapped the towel around her. She opened the door, allowing the steam to escape, and quickly walked past her partner. He merely glanced at her in passing before locking the door behind him.

When she went back to her room, she found the loosest clothes provided in the closet. Cal had been generous enough to supply her with more comfortable clothes after learning of her great distaste of tight fitting outfits.

She slipped on a loose black tank top with flowy gray pants. She wrung out her hair once more before heading out to the dinner table.

Cal awaited her, already making his plate. She began to do the same as she pulled up a chair across from him. One thing she appreciated about the Capitol was the food; tonight's meal consisted of wild turkey, potatoes mixed with leafy greens, and a sweet concoction of pears and beets marinated in a berry sauce. Maybe she liked it because she didn't have to trade or fight for it.