Control | P. Mellark

Chapter Three

Heavy breaths exchanged between Seriea and Milo echoed around them as they ran. A loud booming laughter followed behind them.
"Come on four! Your meant to be on our side!" The girl from two yelled, throwing a knife at the siblings, barely missing Seriea's left side.
Milo skid to the right suddenly, disappearing from both girls. In that moment the district two girl gained on Seriea, takeling her to the ground.
"Little fishys to slow out of water." She smiled down at the small girl with a wicked look in her eyes.
With no hesitation the girl plunged her last knife into Seriea's right side just above her hip. Before she could let out a scream of pain the district two girl was pulling the knife out and holding it above her head, ready to kill Seriea. A choking noise had Seriea opening her eyes, she didn't even notice she closed them at first, and above her was the district two girl with the sharp end of a harpoon sticking out of her mouth. A cannon went off and she rolled out of the way as she fell. Heavy breathing seemed to be her new normal, she pressed her hand into her side as hard as she could as her brother lifted her to her feet.
"Let's get somewhere hidden and take a look at it." Milo sounded nervous as he pulled the harpoon from the girl and took the blunt of Seriea's weight as the walked.

Gently rubbing a thumb across her right waist as tears fell with her eyes trained on the face of her brother. Slowly she walked away from him, finding golden paint on a cart nearby. She stood on her toes and couldn't quite reach as far as she wanted, so she turned and found a bench she could pull over. Once close enough she painted a golden ring from shoulder to shoulder over his head. She smeared the gold paint over 'siren' and traced 'capitol' into the paint. You could hardly see it, but she knew it was there. She took a bit of extra paint and smeared it across her eyes and looked at him, tracing along his eyes aswell, like they did as kids with the muddy sand playing heros.
When she turned around, locking eyes with Plutarch Heavensbee the head gamemaker, she felt resentment a pure hatred to those who stood up in their booth as if they were better than her.

When she reached the roof the paint was dry and cracking and her eyes were red with iritation. Finnick was pacing and looking back and forth to the door, until Seriea walked over.
"Seriea I need you to tell me something, and I need you to be completely honest with me." He took her shoulders and lent down to face her, no hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Anything." Seriea answered, nervous watching his face as she picked at her nail beds.
"Do you have feelings for Peeta." It almost sounded like a joke, like he was setting up for something. But the look on his face felt too calm, too nervous for it to be a joke.
"What? No!" Seriea tried stepping back before continuing, "I barely know him. What is this?"
"There's been talk around the capitol about how you looked at him before the parade and some are speculating that you guys are having an affair, There's been a tribute spreading rumors about you too. Talking about how you look at him."
"I'd like to think we're friends, so I don't shun him or anything." She crossed her arms and looked away.
A faint blush covered her cheeks as she thought about it, yea she blushed when talking to him but that was because she was always blushing when around new people. When she met Joanna her face was constantly beat red.
"Okay, well for now, I'd say stay away from him." Finnick exhaled and stepped away.
"Is that it then?" Her mood and demeanor quickly darkened. She moved to walk past him but stopped when he grabbed her elbow.
"I'm sorry," He whispered, squeezing her arm slightly, "I should have done more, I didn't notice it until my time was almost up."
His voice was breaking, his hand trembled against her arm as he stared at the back of her head. Dirty blonde curls bounced back and forth in his vision as she shook her head.
"I'm glad you didn't do more. I got to see my brother." She pulled her arm away gently, her voice surprising her with no breaks or shaking.
She walked away with no delay finding herself in bed and asleep before she even thought to wash the paint off.
The next morning Seriea was startled by banging on her door, "Seriea! Maroa is getting anxious out here! Hurry up!" Finnick yelled with a bit of amusement.
Quickly Seriea got dressed and barely brushed her hair, knowing how her stylist got about being late and her habit of over sleeping.
Maroa, as unique as ever, wore one of her best dresses for today. A green and pink dress that looked like flowers with the stems facing up. Her hair tied back in a sleek bun and a large green ribbon tied around her neck to create a large bow in the back. She stood there with a sour look, tapping a heel on the ground, staring at Seriea's door. Finnick stood behind her with an amused smirk as Seriea finally came out with slightly frizzy hair and a wrinkled shirt.
"How do you always manage to wrinkle every shirt you wear?" Maroa sighed before turning and speeding her way to the elevator.