The Art of Falling | | c. snow

i.

"Y/n l/n" reverberated the announcers voice.

The whole class looked back at him, Coriolanus Snow, luckily for him, his blonde curls covered the view his classmates had of his eyes. If they were able to see them, they would only see one thing, disappointment.  Not only did he get his tribute from district 12, but she looked like the lowest of the low. Everybody knew district 12 had no victors. Their people were too weak. The girl looked too weak. Had she even been fed enough? He took notice of her frail looking form and chose to find a way of bringing her food. If she wanted atleast a shot at winning these games she should be well-fed. She needs all the energy she can get.

Coriolanus watched her. He could easily tell she was trying to stay tough, trying to keep a calm composure. But the shock was evident, from the way she dropped her flowers to the stunned look that washed over her face. He examined every inch of the girl's expression. One of utter fear and terror. His expression was likely not far from hers when he realized she was his only chance at a future. If she doesn't win these games, he's doomed. He saw all of his aspirations come crashing down. Lightly gulping as he watched her make her way upstage.

No.

He can not be making assumptions this early. She would win these games. He has to make sure of it. He will make sure of it. He needs to win that prize and get an education. He needs to fix his shameful life. Pay off his debts. Have an actual shot at being someone. The thought of being forgotten and reduced to nothing haunted him. After all he's done to hide his financial state? It would all be in vain.

His future depends on her, and her life depends on him. They both need each other.

Y/n felt her heart drop along with the bouquet of flowers she carried. No. That is simply impossible. She always knew she had possibilities of being a tribute, but something in her refused to believe that she was actually getting called up. She was just 16. What about her parents? What about her brother? They weren't even there, how would they react to this once they found out?

Peacekeepers made their way towards her before she had enough time to process her tragic fate. She looked around before her gaze landed on her two best friends, Lucy and Riv. They both held saddened expression. Y/n could tell they were seconds away from breaking down. Giving them a soft smile before allowing herself to be pulled away. She would die. There was no doubt about it. Everyone knows y/n l/n cannot hurt a soul. She'd rather hurt herself if it meant helping somebody else. She values her life of course, but she was an empath. Especially towards children younger than herself. Her thoughts were flooded with many questions as she was pulled upstage.

Everyone's gaze landed on her. She hated this, being the center of attention. It made her anxious, what were they thinking? She never knew and it always killed her. The stares from the crowd, they seep into her soul. She wanted to cry, she truly did, but would she allow them to witness her tears? Of course not. She would not allow herself to be used for a sick type of entertainment. She calmed herself down, grabbing the small microphone before her.

Her eyes wandered, searching for the camera. Releasing a small hum once she finds it.

"Hello there!" She chirps,  "I'm not quite sure what it is you want to gain out of this, but I know it ain't worth it. It's not worth all these lives, all this mess. Please understand that we will not amuse you with our lives. We are not some kind of livestock." She then quickly turned to the district people, "Don't forget about me.. Atleast not yet." Y/n stated before walking away. Was this a goodbye? To some, maybe to the majority. But to others, such as her best friends River and Lucy, this was simply a 'see you later'.

River glanced over at Mayfair, it was her. He knew it, there was no doubt about it. It was her way of getting back at Lucy Gray. 'Take my man and I'll take your best friend'. It infuriated him, why would she take it out on y/n of all people? She had only ever been nice to her, and everybody else for that matter. There was not a single bad thing about her. From the hair that framed her face to the pleasant aura that surrounded her. His thoughts were harshly interrupted by someone's tight grip.