nightmare + f. odair✔

21

The room where she awaited her evaluation was a lot more blank then she remembered.

Johanna had constantly been pestering her, as she sat directlt behind Octavia. Poking her shoulder, making jokes about her 'being lonely without her boyfriend', were only the half of it.

The man Johanna referenced sat diagonol and to the right of her, a row ahead. She stared at the back of his head, the tight top doing wonders for her musc-

"Whatcha thinking about, Tave?" Johanna chuckled, and Octavia turned to click her friends nose.

"Shut up, Jo," Octavia lectured, rolling her eyes.

"Finnick Odair, District Four. Please report for individual assessment."

The monotone voice spoke, and the man stood.

Reaching the iron door, he turned and locked eyes with Octavia.

She scanend his face, which was blank. His eyes told her enough, though. She smiled, but he had already left.

Johanna whistled behind her, low, but Octavia still turned and punched her in the shoulder.

_

"Octavia Whether, please report for individual assesment."

Standing, she cast a glance to Johanna who nodded at her, shooting a discreet thumbs up.

Strolling into the room, she came face to face with Finnick. He grabbed her arm, pulling her to him.

He looked into her eyes, before speaking, "don't do anything stupid, Octavia."

He knew her well enough to realize she wouldn't listen.

She nodded sharply, pulling her arm away and walking into the training room.

She stared up at the game makers, and she snarled before speaking.

"I assume you know who I am."

Plutarch looked right at her, hands in pockets before nodding, squinting at the young girl.

She stared a few more moments, before walking to the knives, grabbing one dagger.

Octavia grabbed a dummy, throwing it carelessly on the ground. Most of the game makers chatted, not giving a shit. Plutarch watched heavily, though. His eyes didn't leaving her as she worked.

She walked to grab a sword, taking her sweet time. She would savour these fifteen minutes, she would make them see.

She then plucked a single arrow from a quiver, before returning to the dummy.

With the hate and trauma that still haunted her, this would send a message. They could try, they could relentlessly try, but they could not break her. She wouldn't allow it.

Octavia took the sword, and imbedded it into the dummies thigh.

And then, she shoved the arrow into its shoulder.