- chapter 22 -

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CORDELIA


Cordelia couldn't have been more wrong. Somehow she'd forgotten that Elliot was also here and true to Finnick's nickname, the boy was causing a stink. He'd somehow managed to piss off every single career. Had he forgotten they were all fully trained and highly dangerous? They came from the type of Districts that thrived on volunteering for the games at eighteen! The oldest a tribute could possibly be!

She'd noticed something earlier, a ruckus in the swords section. A quick glance showed the careers, the girl from Two was held back by the instructor for that section. It hadn't taken long to figure out the careers were the top dogs around here. They had strutted around to each section, jumping at tributes and mocking them when they ran off scared. Cordelia had been grateful when they'd left her section alone, up to this end of the training hall it was only her and the young male tribute from Twelve. He'd taken up a corner away from everyone else to work on practicing building a fire. Internally she prayed Haymitch had warned him about building fires at night, and that this practice was for cooking food in the day.

Wishful thinking, unless the boy already knew how to catch and gut something properly. From his age and District, it was unlikely he knew how to do either thing.

It wasn't until the yelling started that she began to focus her attention on the scene. Survival instincts took over and she surveyed the situation. Although unsure as to what had started it, Cordelia was certain Elliot was to blame. He stood proudly before the careers, a smirk prominent on his face.

"You are so dead Four."

After not being able to make out anything before that, Cordelia wished she still couldn't. Those words, although directed at her foolish District mate sent a shiver through her body. She had no plans to be associated with Elliot in the games, but it looked like she wasn't going to get a chance to sever all ties. Not when the boy from One looked directly at her and smiled. Sinister was the only word she could think of to describe it.

"Alright, that's enough. Settle down tributes. What did I say? Save it for the arena." The main instructor interrupted. "Get in line, now."

...

˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙

...

Elliot stormed back into the apartment. He pushed past both Finnick and Mags, who had been waiting for them to come back from their first day of training. Before either mentor said anything Elliot growled and stomped into his room, making to slam the door behind him.

"That is mahogany!" Elora called from another room.

"What's up with him?" Finnick asked. Cordelia let out a sigh and walked to Finnick, shoving her face into his shoulder. Instantly his hand was on her back, ready to comfort her without question. "Delia?"

"Smelliot," Finnick snickered at her use of his nickname, "Decided he'd make it his mission to piss off all careers as soon as possible." That shut Finnick up real quick.

"He what?" She repeated herself, but since she'd sought the comfort Finnick offered her words were now muffled. "You said that already."

Groaning she just burrowed deeper in, maybe if she wished hard enough she'd disappear and not have to face the next day and a half of training, if she was lucky maybe the games would be canceled.

"Other than that, how was training darling?" At Mags's question, Cordelia left the safety that was Finnick's embrace and turned to face the older woman. This woman could prevent negativity before it even had a chance to become an issue. A saint.

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