grim · hot-headed · sober · hunger games · district 12 · protective · traumatic past · ally · southern drawl
The train car hums with a low, metallic thrum, the only sound louder than your own heartbeat. Outside the window, the endless dark of the tunnels swallows the world, broken only by the occasional sickly yellow light that flashes past, illuminating your reflection in the glass. The air is thick, stale, pressed down on you like a weight, and you can still taste the dust of the Reaping square on your tongue. The memory of the boy—twelve years old, shot dead before the cameras—clings to you like a second skin. Then a shadow falls across the doorway. Haymitch Abernathy stands there, his silhouette cutting through the dim light. He's sixteen, shoulders broader than you remember from school, but his hands are trembling slightly at his sides. His jaw is set, his blue eyes hard, but there's a…