1 - Uncharted Waters [Hunger Games]

17 - Suspended in Time

Chapter 17

"Flightless Bird, American Mouth" by Iron & Wine

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Mira woke up to the pale light of the moon streaming through her window. She lay still, watching the city gradually brighten as the sun climbed into the sky. It reminded her of home, where dawn over the ocean was a masterpiece of subtle colors blending seamlessly. From her bedroom in District 4, she often watched the sun timidly rise, its golden hues reflecting on the waves and gilding the trees. The soft cries of seagulls and the rhythmic lull of the tides always washed away her worries, leaving her ready to embrace the day.

But this was the Capitol.

The dawn here was different, harsher somehow, and lacked the serene simplicity of home. Today was a free day, as Lassie had informed them the night before. It would be dedicated to preparing for interviews and sharpening their survival skills. Mira knew the importance of making an impression and performing well, even if the weight of it made her stomach churn.

Hearing voices beyond her door, she got up, showered, and dressed in comfortable training clothes. In the dining room, Lassie and the mentors were already seated. Mira loaded her plate at the buffet and sat just as Destan arrived. He moved with quiet precision, grabbing food before joining them.

The mentors were engrossed in a conversation, sparing the tributes a brief moment of peace until Lassie turned her attention to them.

"Good morning," Lassie greeted brightly.

Destan gave a noncommittal grunt while Mira returned the greeting with a polite smile. Lassie nodded approvingly before launching into their agenda. "Today, we focus on interviews. I'll start with Mira, covering presentation. Meanwhile, Finnick and Mags will coach Destan on content and refine your strategy. Since Destan has already proven his combat skills, we'll prioritize interview training."

Destan gave a subtle shrug, his disinterest apparent, while Mira felt a surge of nervous energy. She didn't know what the day would bring, but she was determined to make the most of it.

Mira spent the entire morning refining her presentation skills with Lassie. By afternoon, she was preparing for her combat training with Adrian. As she stretched, the door clicked open, and heavy footsteps echoed. Expecting Adrian, Mira was surprised to see Finnick strolling in, removing his watch with a relaxed demeanor. He stopped in front of her, his grin as charming as ever.

"I thought Adrian was assigned to me—" Mira began, confused.

"Would you rather I leave?" Finnick teased, feigning a retreat.

"No! I didn't mean to be rude," Mira stammered, her cheeks flushing. "I just thought Lassie said Adrian would handle training."

"He had something personal to attend to, and Eldoris is passed out—again. So here I am." Finnick's grin deepened, dimples appearing. "Alright, let's get started."

Their session was focused and professional, with none of Finnick's usual flirtatious banter, which Mira found unusual but chose not to question. They worked diligently, moving on to a lesson about escaping a straddle pin. Mira was focused when the door suddenly burst open, revealing Destan with Lassie and Mags following behind.

"Young man, you are not finished with your les—oh my. I thought you two were training," Lassie said, her voice tinged with shock.

Mira quickly scrambled off Finnick, her cheeks burning as all eyes fell on them.

"Relax, we were just training," Finnick replied smoothly, standing and brushing off invisible dust.

"More like taking advantage of her," Destan snapped bitterly, glaring at Finnick.

Finnick raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, Lassie exploded. "You are utterly rude and childish, young man! You don't take your lessons seriously, walk out whenever you please, and refuse to act like a gentleman—"

"Shut your blabbering mouth, Thalassa," Destan interrupted coldly, rolling his eyes before storming off toward the hallway.

Lassie's face turned crimson with fury as she watched him leave. "That boy is utterly infuriating! If you ever behave like that, my dear," she said, turning to Mira, "I would burn off my lashes and eyebrows! Such a hopeless case. Oh, the stress he causes!" She pressed her fingers to her temples dramatically. "I need a spa night—immediately!"

With that, Lassie swept out of the room in exasperation.

Mira looked up to find Mags grinning in amusement, but before Mira could say anything, her older mentor sauntered out of the room. Mira could hear Finnick chuckling above her, which made her glance up, startled.

"Well, I guess we have to call it a day," Finnick said, slipping his watch back onto his wrist and offering a hand to her. Mira took it, and he helped her to her feet. As she stood, a small smile tugged at her lips, which she quickly hid behind her hair. She peered up at him from under her lashes while he checked his watch, feeling a warmth spreading through her at the quiet connection between them.

"I still have a little time left," Finnick said, his mischievous grin widening. "What do you want to do?"

Mira, caught off guard by the question and the playful gleam in his eyes, flushed and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't know," she whispered.

Finnick's smile softened. "Hmm, can you dance?"

Mira's heart skipped a beat at his sudden question. She stared up at him in surprise, only snapping back to reality when Finnick stepped closer, his presence sending a shiver down her spine. He chuckled at her reaction.

"You haven't answered my question," Finnick teased, his voice low.

"You didn't give me a chance to," Mira muttered, her voice barely audible. Finnick tilted his head, his lips near her ear, and she instinctively shyed away, but his arm around her waist kept her in place.

"Your answer?" Finnick asked impatiently, his gaze unwavering.

"I can't," she whispered, her face turning even redder. But Finnick wasn't done yet—he pulled her closer, his lips brushing the top of her ear.

"Look at me when you answer," he whispered softly.

Mira bit her lip, trying to fight her overwhelming nerves. She knew if she looked up, their faces would be mere inches apart. She hesitated, but Finnick's gentle hand on her chin forced her to meet his eyes.

"It's not that hard, sweetheart," he murmured.

"I can't dance," Mira blurted out, her voice trembling with the proximity of their lips.

Finnick smirked, and with a subtle nod, he signaled an Avox to dim the lights and start the music. A soft, unfamiliar tune filled the room, and Mira was too distracted by the sudden change in atmosphere to notice Finnick lifting her onto his shoes.

"This is how you dance," he said softly.

"I thought you weren't supposed to step on someone's feet when you dance," Mira whispered, gazing up into his mesmerizing green eyes.

"I guess you're an exception," Finnick whispered back, and they were lost in each other's gaze, the world around them fading away. Mira closed her eyes, leaning her head against his chest, letting him guide her through the music. The melody seemed to echo what she was feeling in that very moment—suspended in time, surrounded by the warmth of her mentor's embrace.