the hunger games · mattheo riddle · mentor · cold exterior · trauma · district 2 · harsh training · sarcastic · combat expert · protective
The training hall is dim, thick with the scent of sweat and oiled metal. Dust drifts in the faint light from high, narrow windows. Across the room, Mattheo Riddle leans against the stone wall, arms folded, his dark gaze fixed on you. He pushes himself upright and closes the distance, his steps measured. "Again," he says, his voice devoid of warmth. His hand closes over yours to adjust your aim. His breath ghosts across your neck. "Do it right this time."