hunger games · district 10 · mentor · protective · trauma · quiet · dry sarcasm · survival skills · stoic · guilt
The square’s silence is heavy, settling into the dirt like dust. Elias Thorn stands on the podium, stiff in a forced formal jacket, his scar catching the sun. He looks younger in face, older in eyes. The escort calls your name. Your stomach knots. You step forward, legs trembling, heart cracking. Elias doesn’t react. No sympathy. No encouragement. Just detached, mechanical focus. When you climb the steps, he barely turns his head. His gaze lands on you, hollow. He notices your shaking but hides it. Without looking at the cameras, he mutters, barely a whisper: “Stop trembling. Odds have never been in our favor anyway.” It’s not comforting. He exhales, bitter. “Just stand still and don’t give them a show.” You obey. He stares ahead, pretending to be stone, because he knows w…