Satan and St. Paul (Hunger Games OC x OC)

5.

The evening after the scores were announced, the tension in the training center had shifted. There was a newfound respect—or perhaps fear—for Boaz Thornwell. His score of 10 had marked him as one of the deadliest competitors in this year's Hunger Games, and the other tributes gave him a wide berth as he and Maggie walked through the hallways back to their quarters.

Maggie still couldn't believe she had scored a 7. It wasn't the highest, but it was far better than she had expected. She kept stealing glances at Boaz, who seemed as stoic as ever, his expression betraying nothing of what he might be feeling.

Once they were back in their quarters, Maggie couldn't hold her curiosity any longer. "Boaz," she started hesitantly, "how... how do you stay so calm? Don't you ever get scared?"

Boaz paused, his hand resting on the back of a chair. He didn't answer right away, his eyes fixed on some distant point as if lost in thought. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Fear is a tool, Maggie. You can let it control you, or you can use it to your advantage. In the arena, fear keeps you alive—it sharpens your senses and makes you alert. But you can't let it paralyze you."

Maggie considered his words, trying to imagine herself using fear the way he described. It seemed impossible—she was used to fear overwhelming her, making her feel small and helpless. "I don't know if I can do that," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Boaz turned to face her fully, his gaze intense. "You can," he said firmly. "You've already started to. You threw those knives today like your life depended on it—because it does. You just need to keep going, keep pushing past the fear."

Maggie nodded, though doubt still lingered in her mind. She wanted to believe him, wanted to think that she could be strong like him. But deep down, she wasn't sure she had it in her.

Seeing her uncertainty, Boaz sighed and stepped closer, his voice softening. "Look, Maggie, I know this isn't easy. You weren't born for this, and that's not a bad thing. It means you haven't lost your humanity. But in that arena, you'll need to find a way to survive. Use whatever you have—your instincts, your kindness, your will to live. They're just as powerful as any weapon."

Maggie looked up at him, searching his eyes for something—reassurance, perhaps, or maybe just understanding. "Why are you helping me?" she asked quietly. "You don't have to, but you are. Why?"

Boaz's expression softened, and for a moment, she saw something in his eyes that she hadn't seen before—something almost like vulnerability. "Because you're different, Maggie," he said simply. "You remind me of... someone I used to know. Someone who didn't deserve to be part of all this. If I can help you survive, then maybe it'll make up for the fact that I couldn't save them."

Maggie felt a pang of sympathy for him, but she knew better than to pry. Boaz was a man of few words, and whatever pain he carried, it was something he kept buried deep within. Instead, she reached out and placed a hand on his arm, offering him a small, tentative smile. "Thank you, Boaz. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Boaz gave her a rare, almost imperceptible smile in return. "You're stronger than you think, Maggie. You'll find your way."

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of the upcoming Games pressing down on them both. It was a rare, quiet moment in the midst of the chaos that surrounded them, and Maggie found herself wishing it could last just a little longer.

But the peace was broken by the sound of a knock on the door. Boaz immediately tensed, his hand instinctively moving toward the knife at his belt. Maggie's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly reminded herself that they were still safe—for now.

Boaz opened the door to reveal their mentor, a grizzled man named Cane, who had won his Games years ago and carried the scars to prove it. He looked them both over with a critical eye before stepping inside.

"Well, you two made quite the impression today," Cane said gruffly, crossing his arms. "Boaz, that 10's going to paint a big target on your back. Every tribute in there will be looking to take you down first."

Boaz didn't flinch. "Let them try," he said coolly.

Cane snorted, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That's the spirit. But don't get cocky, kid. There's always someone looking to be the hero who takes down the biggest threat."

He turned his attention to Maggie, his gaze softening slightly. "And you, Maggie Bellemont. A 7, huh? Not bad for someone who looked like a scared rabbit on her first day here."

Maggie blushed, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. "I—I'm trying," she said, her voice small.

Cane nodded. "I can see that. And that's good. You've got potential, girl. But you're going to need more than just potential to survive out there."

Maggie swallowed hard, the reality of the situation settling in once more. "What do we do now?" she asked, looking between Cane and Boaz.

Cane's expression grew serious. "Now, we plan. The arena is a death trap, but it's also a place of opportunity. We need to figure out where you'll go when the Games start, who your biggest threats are, and how to use your strengths to your advantage."

He glanced at Boaz. "You'll need to stick close to Maggie. Protect her, but don't coddle her. She needs to learn how to fight for herself too."

Boaz nodded, his expression resolute. "I will."

Cane looked back at Maggie, his gaze piercing. "And you, Maggie. You need to trust Boaz, but don't rely on him for everything. You're smart—use that. There's more to survival than just brute strength."

Maggie nodded, her mind racing with everything they were telling her. It was overwhelming, but she knew that every word they spoke could mean the difference between life and death.

As the night wore on, the three of them sat around a small table, discussing strategies, potential allies, and dangers. Boaz shared what he knew about combat and survival, while Cane offered insight into the minds of the Gamemakers and the other tributes.

Maggie listened intently, absorbing every detail, every piece of advice. She knew that once they were in the arena, she would have to rely on everything she had learned in these last few days.

By the time they finally went to bed, Maggie's mind was buzzing with information. She lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a jumble of fear, hope, and determination.

Before she finally drifted off to sleep, she whispered a silent promise to herself: she would survive this. She would find a way to stay alive, no matter what it took.

And she wouldn't let Boaz down.