"Elara Rosewood. Come on up, honey. Don't be shy."
Elara had hated the annual tradition of the Hunger Games since she knew how to say the words. It was violent, twisted and a fucking outrage. Her grandfather loved it though. He'd sit her down beside...
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"YOU'RE BORING ME." Celiea commented from her spot by the window, legs crossed over and arms folded firmly across her chest.
"Well, excuse me if I don't know how to charm thousands of people." Elara snapped with a roll of her eyes. Every time she thought they'd make progress, Celiea kicked her back to the ground with the sole of her foot in an instant.
"Just be interesting. I do it." The woman shrugged. Elara brushed her hair back with her fingers, meeting Celiea's gaze expectantly.
She shook her head. "Well? How do I do that?"
Celiea raised a brow, as if her next useless answer was going to be obvious. "I can't tell you that. You've just got to understand how."
"I give up." Elara sighed, throwing her hands up and slumping back into the cushions. She shot a glare at Tobin as he muttered something indiscernible under his breath.
He was actually awake for once, but with his useless comments and uncomforting stare, she wished he'd just take a nap again. Anything to shut him up.
Weston exhaled a brief breath, something like a laugh, and unscrewed the top of the whiskey. For some reason, despite his insistence, the sight made her stomach turn. "You're a likeable person, Elara. As long as you push the peace agenda, you should be fine."
She watched the liquid fill the glass, rocks in her stomach. "You guys are supposed to guide me. I hope you gave Tanner better advice than this." She huffed.
"He didn't need it." Weston said, simply.
"What?"
"Kid's adorable. He's got an instant advantage."
"And you piss everyone off." Tobin chimed in.
"Go back to sleep." Elara snapped.
"There's not really much we can tell you about this part." Weston shrugged, swirling the liquid in his glass. "We tried the training, we have who you're supposed to be to them. Ever protective and peaceful. You'll be fine. I promise."
Slumping back in her seat with an irritated sigh, she picked at her thumbnail. "I just don't wanna disappoint you guys." She muttered under her breath. "Don't wanna ruin this for Tanner."
Her quiet honesty was unexpected but not out of character. They, Weston especially, knew this was the case. He could read her well, maybe it was her lack of face control, her expression revealing everything she felt about anything, but he'd figured out her fears long before anyone else had.
Freezing his movements and swallowing thickly, despite never taking a drink, Weston frowned. Tobin averted his gaze to the ground and, over by the window, Celiea's usually-sharp gaze softened. No one seemed to want to speak.
