In the Wake of the Tide: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 8

He awoke to Maxwell holding out a fresh outfit for the day. Andario smiled and thanked him. The boy in white had clearly taken note of his training wear yesterday, as Maxwell picked out a plain black tee and black loose-fitting pants, yet both of them looked much higher fashion than the ones he'd selected. He appreciated the clothes, as it allowed him to move while retaining some of the Capitol standards. It reminded him of some outfits he'd seen citizens his age wear at the opening ceremony along the streets.
The mild concussion symptoms still lingered, but they weren't as bad as the day before. Andario quickly changed into the outfit, laughing at how dreary he looked wearing all black twice in a row. He then rushed out of his room, bidding Maxwell a good day as he bounded out the door. He hoped that Mags was up as early as she was yesterday, so that they could get a discussion in before the others awoke.
Just as Andario had wished, Mags sat in her usual spot, swapping between the same fruit chunks and mug of coffee she'd had the morning before. He swiftly sat in the seat across from her and instantly jumped into explaining what happened in training, the older woman shocked over his abruptness. He shared about Link and Alice, about Thresher, about all the weaknesses he'd pinpointed, and everything he trained. She took a second to process after he'd finished his recounting, categorizing the information and formulating what needed to be addressed.
"Link and Alice seem like a good idea," she shared. "Never lift your defences, though. Given their wits, they could easily be manipulating you into an easy betrayal."
Andario nodded. He'd thought of that, but still couldn't see how or why they'd betray him. He heeded her words as reassurance, though, as it was smart to keep cautious.
"Your recounting of Thresher seemed uncertain," she stated.
"I still don't know his motives or intentions," Andario confessed. "I don't know if he's trying to be friendly or not." The District 9 boy worried him, as he couldn't identify what Thresher was trying to gain from the teasing and warning. It's as though Thresher himself wasn't certain, and Andario would have assumed so had the boy not spoken so confidently, so knowingly. He wondered if he had just misread the boy, or if Thresher really was gunning for his torment.
Mags paused, considering his encounter with Thresher. After a moment, she spoke tenderly. "I would advise keeping an eye on him, but don't think about him too much. You have bigger things to worry about." She paused again. "And make sure to accept any advances that he makes. This is the time where you should take any interest you get, as there will be no immediate consequences to concern yourself over."
"But what if—"
"No retaliation," Mags repeated sternly, interrupting his hypotheticals. He accepted her words and continued nodding. She seemed confident, and that gave him confidence in her skills, despite already trusting them to begin with considering her experiences with the Games.
"For now," she continued, "I'd like for you to focus on your training, like you have been. I appreciate your efforts to learn more weapons, but now that you know what you're comfortable with, stick to the spear and the dagger. You need to make sure you're able to defend yourself with both. And get a specialist to train you in hand-to-hand combat, since it sounds like the majority of tributes rely on short ranged weapons."
"Okay, that's what I'll do today," Andario agreed. He found it easy to see how Mags won the 11th Hunger Games. She was smart and tactical, like a general at war. Yet she knew how to appease people, how to keep on their good side. He grew increasingly certain that he wouldn't be the first one out of the Games the more planning he did with her.
Mags nodded, a tender smile spread across her face. "You're doing good. Well done."
The words were short, but they meant so much to Andario. He smiled and nodded back, briefly mumbling his thanks.
Gabria did not show her face until Ryx escorted them down to training, the elevator ride passing in silence again. As soon as the doors opened, Gabria rushed for her group of Careers, all of them welcoming her in with a hearty cheer. Andario hadn't felt as alone as he had the first day she left him, though, as he was instantly greeted by Link and Alice's friendly smiles and waves.
"How are we feeling today?" Link asked.
"Pretty good," he responded. "Ready to learn more before the slaughter."
Link and Alice lightly chuckled. Andario couldn't tell if any of them actually found the ominous jokes amusing, or if they were just trying to make light of the situation. He didn't care either way, as it helped them make it through each day.
Following Mags's instructions, Andario convinced Link and Alice to join him at the weapons station once the Careers had gone, and they were able to get Flint to teach them a bit about hand-to-hand combat while they waited. Andario slowly got the hang of it, learning about jabs and punches. Choke holds were easier than he'd expected, but he doubted he'd ever be able to get someone vulnerable enough to perform one. Flint complimented his ability to dodge and weave, as well as his endurance and ability to take hits, but his form was sloppy and his hits weren't as powerful as he'd have liked.
The three of them took turns, each one swapping out as soon as the other grew tired. Andario was impressed by Flint's stamina, as the specialist was able to keep up with each of them every time. He also was impressed with the District 3 tributes. It was no surprise that Link was built for fighting, given his physique, but still the boy was able to land punches significantly better than he could. Each hit knocked Flint back a bit, even with the specialist's entire body weight leaning into the blow. But he was even more impressed with Alice. She seemed fragile, yet when she sparred against Flint, she showed her true strength. Her wits combined with her agility and small frame made her a dangerous opponent, as she was hard to hit and she could easily outmanoeuvre her enemy. She'd also clearly attended the human anatomy station, as she targeted weak points in the joints with light but precise jabs until she was able to wrap around Flint's body like a snake and lock him into a choke hold. Andario quickly realized the two allies he'd made were scary competitors, ones that could easily take him out in a matter of seconds. He grew more wary of their alliance, and decided to hold up a few more barriers just in case.
Once the Careers left and headed off to other stations, Andario and the District 3 tributes jumped on the opportunity, instantly practicing with the weapons. Link and Alice returned to the axes and daggers they'd used the day before, while Andario heeded Mags's words and practiced more with the spear. He worked on his thrusts, his parries, and his stances. He also practiced his throws, as they needed a lot of work. He was evidently very lacking in long distance aim, which concerned him for the Games, as it left him vulnerable to attacks from tributes — such as Brass — who used ranged weapons. He'd only managed to reach about three yards with his throwing, though, before the Careers headed over to claim back the station and they were pushed away.
After Alice's display against Flint, he decided it would be good to learn human anatomy, just in case. He spotted Yew, Kellett and Deccan at the station, already learning about the vulnerable locations of the body. He was briefly astounded over the tributes' determination to learn a variety of skills this year before he recognized that lowered his chances of survival. Andario quickly sat in a corner and memorized the anatomy, Link and Alice having gone to practice at the butchering station. He grew nervous as he memorized, realizing how truly vulnerable he was from attack, but also found comfort in knowing that the other tributes were built just as vulnerable as he was.
When lunch arrived, Andario stacked his tray high, as he'd forgotten to eat enough during breakfast, having been distracted by getting Mags's advice. He joined Link and Alice, who'd already claimed the table where they'd met. They all ravaged their meals, though, as all the physical training had sapped their energy.
"So," Andario inquired to Link. "Where'd you develop the physique? Cause it definitely wasn't from building microwaves, that's for sure." He'd meant it as a joke, so he followed it up with a small chuckle, which Link exchanged.
"I help with packaging and shipping along with making them," Link responded. "They weigh a surprising amount when you ship them off by the dozen, and the Peacekeepers don't let you go easy."
Andario laughed. "They were doing you a favour, I guess."
"Suppose so," Link said with a laugh of his own.
"And you weren't interested in helping Link?" Andario teased Alice, who violently shook her head.
"She was too talented for it," Link answered. "She was tasked with inventing new microwaves — ones that were more cost-efficient or effective — in between making the regular ones."
Andario nodded at the girl, impressed. She turned red and shied away, trying to hide behind the fabric of Link's clothes.
"Is this seat taken?" A voice asked from behind Andario. Link was instantly on the defensive, glaring daggers into the person, while Alice tensed up. Andario turned to see a dark-skinned, fairly strong build to which he instantly identified as Thresher. The District 9 boy smiled at him, having evidently directed the question to him, yet he couldn't tell if Thresher was here to gloat or to make friends. He debated kicking the boy away, but Mags's words echoed through his mind. No retaliation. Andario begrudgingly scooted down the bench seat, heading as close to the wall as possible. He instantly realized his mistake as Thresher sat just as near to him as they'd have been without Andario moving, making him feel enclosed. Link and Alice continued to watch, sensing his uncomfortable air, and were at the ready to move tables.
"How we doing, team?" Thresher asked, biting into his sandwich.
The three sat in silence as they tried to piece together the boy's goal. Finally, Alice responded, her small voice spitting out the one word. "Fine."
"Sounds good," Thresher said, nodding in time with the awkward atmosphere.
The tension was palpable as they ate, none of them muttering a single word. Andario noticed Thresher's leg bouncing from under the table, and he looked up at the boy, on edge. Thresher seemed to be irritated, from what he couldn't tell. The District 9 boy bit at his lip, his eyes jumping around the table, looking for nothing in particular. Maybe he was searching for an escape, Andario thought. But he instantly waved the idea away. If the boy had been looking for an escape, he'd simply get up and walk away. Yet he hadn't. So what was he searching for?
"How's training going?" Thresher asked.
"Did you want to criticize my aim again?" Andario mumbled.
Thresher pursed his lips. "I mean your aim was terrible."
Andario rolled his eyes. "Thanks."
Alice and Link continued to sit and observe, waiting for the signal from Andario to leave. He felt their eyes analyzing him, waiting for it, but he couldn't give the sign. He couldn't leave in good conscience, knowing Mags's expectations.
"So which one of you is the dangerous one?" Thresher asked, smiling. He looked each of them in the eyes.
"Is that all you want to know?" Andario demanded.
"What if I said yes?" Thresher's eyebrow shot up.
"Then you'd leave," Link growled.
Andario watched Thresher carefully. The comment almost seemed to throw him back, as though he was hurt by it. Andario couldn't tell if it was an act to continue the teasing or if the boy was genuinely hurt.
"Yeesh, that one hit hard!" Thresher exclaimed, pressing his hand against his heart. His head dipped as he paused for a moment, then he drew himself back up and continued talking. "What if I just wanted to see who I should make friends with?"
"Then you'd be better off talking to Sturm or the Careers," Andario stated.
Thresher looked at him, smiling. "I don't like them as much as I do you." He winked.
Andario made a gagging noise and rolled his eyes, focusing his attention on his remaining food. The boy from District 9 was disgusting and tremendously irritating. He hoped Mags was right to advise keeping Thresher around, because he was struggling to see a benefit.
After lunch, Thresher continued to follow them around. The three of them went back to sparring with Flint for a bit, where Andario continued to suffer from poor swings and missed opportunities to strike. He tapped out, allowing Link to switch in, and sat down to watch, catching up to his rapid breathing.
"Your hits need work." Andario pushed his body away from Thresher, who'd crept up and whispered the taunt into his ear. He stared at the boy, who looked just as amused as he had with the taunts about Andario's aim.
"I can see that, thanks," Andario hissed.
Thresher cocked his head to the side, like a lizard analyzing its surroundings. "You want help?" He pouted, attempting some form of puppy eyes.
"I have Flint." Andario's tone was cold. He wanted the boy gone.
Thresher pressed his lips together, then slowly approached as Andario froze in fear. He anticipated the boy would pull some kind of move. But in front of the training overseer? He supposed the specialist was distracted, but Flint couldn't nearly be distracted enough to let a tribute attack another. Plus, the Gamemakers were watching from above, as Thresher had warned him about.
Thresher was just inches away when he reached out his hand. Andario stared cautiously, ready to fly away as soon as he felt threatened. But Thresher's actions shocked him into paralysis, as the boy grabbed his hand. Andario sat and watched as Thresher gently bent his fingers into a fist. The boy's hands then ran down to his arms, and he was forced into the fighting stance that Flint constantly sparred against them in.
"This is how you hold yourself," Thresher stated. "Except you'd be on your feet with a strong stance."
Andario felt his breathing increase. Thresher could effortlessly snap his neck and he wouldn't be able to react at all. Fear bubbled up his throat, blocking any words. He was vulnerable, weak, and immobile. An easy target. Yet even as he thought this, he couldn't get himself to move.
"Get up," Thresher demanded. "Show me your stance."
Andario obliged, Thresher half dragging him up from the grip on his arms. Alice noticed the movement, and was instantly at attention like she'd been at the lunch table. She seemed to notice the fear resting in Andario's eyes, as she resembled a guard dog ready to pounce.
"You have no confidence," Thresher stated, observing the structure of his stance. The boy gave a sweep of his foot and moved Andario's legs into position. "You need to be strong and resilient to stand a chance against any of us."
Andario felt like a silly marionette on display for everyone to see. He knew the Gamemakers were watching him being manhandled, he knew the tributes had noted his situation and snickered as they watched. He'd turned into a spectacle, even in training, Thresher the maniacal tyrant controlling him from the sidelines.
Thresher's mouth drew close to Andario's ear. He could feel the boy's breathing on the side of his neck. He shivered.
"You have to be confident in yourself to make killing you any fun." Thresher softly laughed as Andario's eyes widened. He suddenly regained control of his body, and the moment he felt his movement return, he kicked into action. He crossed his arms, pinning Thresher's in close to his body, and he pushed forward, tightening his core and struggling with all his might. He heard Thresher call out for him to stop, asking what he thought he was doing, but he didn't hesitate. He pulled the boy up over his back, despite being dozens of pounds lighter and a few inches shorter. His adrenaline pushed him through, his fear sparking his determination. Once he felt Thresher's feet lift off the ground, he threw the boy off of him. Thresher's back slammed against the floor as Andario instantly scampered away, afraid of the boy's recovery and retaliation.
The room went silent, everyone's eyes on the two boys. Flint jumped into action after Link released him from the headlock, kneeling at Thresher's side, asking if he'd sustained any injuries. The specialist yelled for Andario to back off, and he did, Alice running to him and latching onto his waist. He saw everyone was in shock. Link, Jade, Sturm, everyone. The Gamemakers had paused from jotting down notes, staring at the situation. Even Gabria stood dumbfounded, the mace she held falling to her side. His face turned red. He mumbled an apology, but nobody heard. Alice tightened her grip to get his attention, shaking her head in a way that nobody else would notice, advising him to stay silent. His mouth closed shut.
Flint quickly escorted a groaning Thresher to the medical room as everyone began returning to their stations. Link ran over to demand what happened, but neither Andario nor Alice spoke a word. He wanted to go to the weapons station, as he thought holding a spear in his hand would make him feel less exposed, less vulnerable. The other two followed closely, but they were instantly pushed away by Tizona's glare. She hadn't identified him as a threat before, but now she evidently had a different opinion.
Alice guided him over to the basket weaving station, where he silently wove the straw together, his mind elsewhere. Alice explained to Link what had occurred, but he couldn't register any of her words. He was still in shock over what had happened. Thresher could have killed him, and he made it so easy. He froze. Like with everything else that scared him up until now. He feared that it would continue into the Games, and his freezing would get him killed.
What's more, he didn't know what had come over him, but as soon as the adrenaline had dissipated, he felt the strain tossing Thresher left on his body. He still hadn't recovered from the concussion, and his exertion today kicked up the intensity of his symptoms. The only thing he could see though his blurred vision was the interlocking straw and his hands continuing the weaving motion. He felt dizzy and groggy, while somewhat overstimulated. He couldn't tell if his breath was short from the exhilarating situation he'd been in or his panic after the fact.
"Andario?" Link asked. "Are you okay?"
Andario nodded, unable to form sentences. Link was unconvinced, calling for Alice's opinion. They both sat and watched like doting parents as he continued to focus on weaving his basket. It wasn't until he started swaying in spot that they drew the specialist's attention to him, which prompted the medics over and he was escorted to the medical room.
He struggled to register much on the way, the lights bothering him so much that he had to close his eyes, which only worsened his nausea and dizziness. He focused on his breathing to avoid vomiting everything he'd eaten during lunch, putting all his weight on the shoulders of the two medics holding him up. He could barely hold his head up, his energy directed to keeping his stomach at ease.
    The medics threw him down on a soft bed and examined him. They tested his reflexes, searched him for any visible signs of ailments, and flashed a light in his eyes to check responsiveness, which was the most bothersome. Finally, they came to the assessment that his concussion symptoms had reappeared, as though they'd vanished in the first place. Andario would have rolled his eyes had they not already seemed to be rolling, the room rocking all over the place like he was aboard a ship.
    For the first time in a while, he thought back to the Tilda's Glory. He wished so badly that he could be on the ship now, with Keel and Seb and Captain Leucostern. He wanted to be with the team that he didn't have to fight to the death. He wanted to laugh with them as they pulled in the day's catches. He wanted to see the glistening horizon, feel the salty spray on his face, smell the ocean air. Yet here he was, stuck in a blank white Capitol prison with stuffy air and a concussion. He wondered if the symptoms would dissipate before he was sent into the arena to be killed for sport, but he knew the Capitol would refuse to treat him unless he was dying, and the exertion — both mentally and physically — of the days remaining before the Games wouldn't permit for rest to cure it.
    "Hurt your head when you flipped me, pretty boy?" Thresher was laying on the cot next to him, staring intently at him. Andario wished there was a curtain or something to block him from view. He couldn't handle the District 9 boy's taunts while he tried to recover. He was already wasting precious time by laying on the bed. He couldn't let any more slip through his grasp. He needed every second he could get.
    "You know, maybe I was wrong," Thresher said, his voice soft and quiet. "Maybe you will be a fun kill."
    Andario felt enraged at the comment, each second he thought of the words fuelling the fire developing in his chest. The pressure in his head increased from the rapid blood flow, though, and he quickly had to calm himself down to relieve the pain.
    "What you don't get is that weakness is a target here," Thresher continued, unfazed by Andario's reactions. "You'll be the first one gone. The last one remembered."
    Thresher's voice had a sadness to it that Andario hadn't anticipated. He questioned why the boy had become so dreary. Did he fear for his own survival? His own odds? Did he consider himself weak, just like Andario did? He hated sympathizing with the person who'd tormented him since they'd arrived in the Capitol, but he couldn't help the connection. Tributes could only relate to two things in the entire world; the imminent threat of death, and the wish for life to return to normal. Beyond that, the only relations would be within similarities in experiences, personalities, or anything else, just like two Capitol citizens.
    "The arena will be fun," Thresher laughed. "It'll be a new journey, that's for sure." The corners of his mouth slowly dropped, and he stared into his folded hands, gazing into a truth only visible to him. In that moment, it was like the world had stopped. The room stopped rocking, the sounds of busy Capitol feet drowned out by the tranquil quietness. All Andario could see was the Distrct 9 boy, who looked sad and alone, clutching at something out of his reach. Something intangible thanks to the Capitol's entertainment.
    Thresher was discharged shortly after, giving a cocky wink as he walked out the door. Andario's hatred for the boy returned, the sympathy gone in an instant. A little after that, they discharged him, too. They told him to keep away from any physically active stations, and he was free to rejoin his fellow tributes.
    Link and Alice helped him to the plant station, where they asked how he was feeling as they ran through different kinds of poisonous berries. He tried his best to assure them that he was fine, but they only accepted the words and didn't truly believe them. They left it there, though, and the three of them continued to train, throwing in short conversations intermittently.
    "They're talking about you now," Link stated.
    "Who?" Andario asked as he furrowed his brows. He knew that it must have been attention he didn't want in the Games. "What are they saying?"
    "Most people are questioning how much you're hiding," Link responded.
    "And if you should be an ally or a target," Alice interjected.
    Andario pressed his lips together. He was hoping the news would have been something else, but knew deep down it couldn't have been. He looked average overall, with an average build, height, and looks. By no means could he be considered dangerously strong, but he also couldn't be counted out as a scrawny weakling. It was that average look that he thought would be able to save him from being a victim of the first day. He'd been relying on it, in a way, hoping that the other tributes would either find a weaker target or a stronger threat to hunt first. But since flipping Thresher over his back, he'd become an anomaly thrown into the limelight. An unknown variable that the others feared. He could only hope that his average looks would vanish whatever threatening presence he'd garnered from the other tributes' minds.
    His concern must have showed more clearly than he'd thought, as Alice pressed a hand to his and smiled. "Don't worry," she said. "We trust you."
    Andario smiled back, both at her and at Link. He appreciated their words, their comfort, their alliance. He still was wary over possible backstabbing attempts, and did not leave his guard down, but he believed they spoke from their hearts. Or maybe he just needed to believe. He wasn't fully certain, nor did he care. He only knew if Link and Alice decided to break off their alliance, he would run and never look back, but here in training he had nothing to fear.
    The rest of training passed by in a flash as they rotated from station to station. Andario hated having wasted so much time from the concussion symptoms and the restriction from any physically active stations, but he'd grown confident in his other skills. He wasn't very good at camouflage, unlike Alice and Link, yet he was able to manage a rudimentary form of camouflage if the need arose. He knew for certain he could weave a basked with his eyes closed. He'd learned so many different knots he'd never heard of, especially appreciative of the snare traps. He could identify many different plants, as well as if they were edible or not. He felt ready to survive for days out in the arena, prepared for almost anything that came his way.
When it came time for dinner, they lined up as usual in order of District number. Gabria stood beside him, deadly silent, yet the silence felt different somehow. It carried through their entire journey back to the fourth floor, not a single word uttered, until the elevator doors opened and she calmly stepped out. Not her usual aggressive march to her bedroom, he noted, which confused him even further.
That night, he was able to join everyone at the table. Osman and Gabria showed their faces and ate their meals around the rest of them for the first time since they'd arrived. Andario felt uncomfortable, the atmosphere indicating everyone was on the defensive. Nobody spoke until halfway through the dinner, when Ryx piped up. Andario was shocked the man hadn't spoken up before then, and was quietly impressed at the restraint Ryx had developed.
"How is training coming along, dear tiger and hero?" He jumped from Gabria to Andario, cutting into his nearly gone steak.
"Fine," they both uttered. The unity was unexpected, and they both looked at each other before Gabria scowled.
"That's good," Ryx said. "I expect to see you both in the top five in no time!"
Gabria snickered. "You'd have to be the luckiest man in Panem to see that." Andario glared at her, unsure as to whether the comment was about him or both of them. She had seen the other tributes and their skills, so maybe she'd reconsidered her odds of winning. The idea alone baffled him, as he could never see Gabria admitting defeat.
"Come now, dear tiger, you must have confidence!" Ryx exclaimed in the most privileged Capitol way Andario had ever heard. "In order for you to win, you must believe you can!"
"I believe I'd like to see you try your hand at it," Gabria muttered, but it seemed like only Andario had heard, as he was the only one to react. He found it slightly comedic, and grinned. Gabria noticed, and he was shocked to see her grinning back.
"Now, do you both have plans for your private sessions with the Gamemakers tomorrow?" Ryx asked gleefully, excited to hear their responses. "I hope to see high marks for my best tributes yet!"
Andario's eyes widened. He'd forgotten that the private sessions were on the final day of training. His heart thumped against his chest as his mind raced. What did he have to show? He'd only barely practiced with weapons, and had made virtually no ground with his spear throws. He couldn't walk in and recite everything he'd learned, as he'd only barely manage to scrape up a six doing that if he was lucky. And his concussion symptoms, would they restrict him? It could ruin any chances he had of sponsors, and it would instantly ruin all the work he'd put in up until now. He drank from his glass of clean Capitol water, his throat dry from nerves.
Mags and Osman interjected just as Gabria was about to speak. "You fool, we're training them separately!" Osman cried.
"We can't offer any information," Mags agreed.
Her statement made him feel a bit more secure, although it did very little to settle his nerves. She clearly had some form of plan for him, but as to what he hadn't the faintest idea. He saw no potential to build on, no spotlight skills to work with.
"That is too bad," Ryx said. "I guess I will just have to wait and see tomorrow night!"
The rest of the dinner passed while Ryx rambled about one Capitol topic or another. Andario found it strange to hear how carefree the Capitol citizens were. Ryx mentioned a dispute between two famous Capitol celebrities and the controversy that surrounded the topic. It was like an internal non-violent war was raging across the Capitol. Andario questioned how this dispute could have been the biggest issue most of the citizens had to worry about. Did they not worry over money, or food, or if they would be able to stay warm during the night? He supposed his puzzlement was misplaced, as he was living the Capitol lifestyle now in all its luxury. They seemed to never have anything to worry about. What a peaceful life that would be.
After he'd finished eating, he went to his room to shower. Maxwell was waiting for him with a fresh set of pyjamas. He gratefully accepted them, and they went about the evening similarly to what they'd done the day before, except Andario was well enough to shower himself this time. Still, Maxwell waited by the shower door as he rambled on about stories from District 4. He appreciated his shower time, as it was the only time he'd been able to relax and be himself throughout the day. He also enjoyed sharing stories with the boy in white, although he wished Maxwell had felt comfortable enough to share stories of his own. Andario wanted to know what the boy's life was like, who he was in essence, aside from the kind Capitol worker he'd grown attached to.
Once Andario had finished getting ready, he slipped under his sheets, instantly hit with a wave of fatigue. He shared a few more stories with Maxwell before he decided he needed rest. Maxwell gave him a smile and gently tapped his hand, a small goodnight in his strangely silent way. Then, the boy in white headed for the door. Andario felt some form of dread well up in his throat as he watched Maxwell leave.
"Wait!" He called out before he could stop himself. Maxwell froze in place, looking back at him. "Can you stay a while?" Andario turned red, embarrassed by the statement. Yet the boy in white was unbothered by the request, and nodded as he headed to rearrange the closet organization system.
Andario smiled and closed his eyes. He felt comforted by the boy's presence, like Maxwell was a familiar loved one despite having only met him two days ago. And he especially needed the comfort now, given all that circled his mind. With the private sessions, the interviews, and the Games all happening in the next thirty-six hours, he felt the stress of his incoming demise, but knowing that Maxwell was with him gave his mind a small amount of peace. The tightness in his chest slightly lifted with the comfort of the boy in white. He slowly drifted off to sleep, the beeping of the Capitol's electronic buttons Maxwell was pressing turning into white noise, his thoughts fighting against the dread of the days to come.