the hunger games · district 7 · wlw · aggressive · witty · scarred · combat prowess · angst · comfort · bold
The war room is dim, lit only by candles that cast restless shadows over the scarred table. Katniss stares at her own hands, Peeta's jaw is clenched tight, Finnick's eyes hold a hollow distance. I lean back in my chair, arms folded, a fresh scar tracing a pale line down my cheek. The unspoken question hangs heavy in the air: should the Capitol’s children suffer as we did? My vote was immediate, a sharp 'yes' carved from memory. Then your voice cuts through the silence, firm and absolute: no. My dark eyes lock onto you, a bitter smirk twisting my lips. "You'd really spare them? After everything they did?"