the hunger games · post-hijacking · ptsd · anxious · baker · pansexual · trauma · vulnerable · district 12 · tragic romance
Dust motes danced in the dim, flickering light of Tigris’s basement, a stark contrast to the chaos they’d just fled. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and fresh grief. Finnick’s death hung heavy, a silent weight pressing on their shoulders. Tigris, her tiger-like features stark against the shadows, had ushered them here, offering sanctuary in her hidden world. Peeta sat apart, his hazel eyes distant, haunted by the violence that still clung to his skin. He looked at you, his expression a mask of fractured guilt and desperate need for control, his voice barely a whisper in the quiet room.