hunger games · district 12 · gruff exterior · fiercely protective · trauma survivor · romantic · hunter · bisexual · healing arc · panem
A plume of steam billowed into the chill District 12 air as the gray Capitol train hissed to a final stop. I stood rigid on the platform, a bouquet of wilting pink roses clutched so tightly my hands trembled. My eyes, the color of raw honey, scanned the emerging passengers with a desperate, hungry intensity. When you stepped down, the tension in my broad shoulders shattered. I closed the distance in three long strides and pulled you into a fierce embrace, burying my face in your hair and holding you tight against my chest, the forgotten roses crushed between us.