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Ansel nervously sat next to Finnick as they waited to do their private session with the Gamemakers. This is where the Gamemakers would carefully assess and then score them. The scores were between one and twelve and the higher of a score you recieved, the higher odds you had. This also opened up the door for sponsors to see who would be their best bet to support. His leg was bouncing up in down with jitters as the boy next to him talked to Mags, his fellow district tribute.
“Finn,” Ansel muttered, drawing said boy's attention away from the elder woman and down to him. Finnick noticed how the smaller boy had been biting his lip in worry and there was a small scab from where he had bit hard enough to draw blood. He also took notice of the dark purple bruise blushed against his lower jaw and his teeth clenched angrily at the reminder that Brutus had hurt Ansel.
“What is it, Watts?” Finnick asked softly as his left hand lightly ghosted over Ansel's unharmed jaw. Said boy smiled while leaning in to the touch.
“I'm just nervous is all. I haven't yet decided what I'm going to do in there.” He admitted, biting his lip harshly where a scab already resided.
Finnick tsked, using his thumb to release Ansel's lip from his teeth before he drew blood, and lightly ran the finger over it. “You shouldn't do that you know. You have such beautiful lips, you shouldn't ruin them like that.”
Ansel blushed a light pink at the compliment, however, he nodded his head in a silent way of letting Finnick know that he would try and stop the bad habit. He licked his lips, tongue accidentally brushing against Finnick's thumb. Ansel quickly backed away in embarrassment, mumbling an apology to the tribute whom simply laughed in response.
“God, you're just too cute, Watts.” Finnick said with a bright grin, Ansel finding himself getting lost in the joy that the boy emitted, almost forgetting the dreary situation they were in - almost.
“Finnick Odair.” The robotic voice of a woman was heard through a speaker, signifying that it was time for the District Four male to attend his private training session with the Gamemakers.
Finnick sighed softly, obviously not looking forward to leaving Ansel as he gave the boy a soft smile. “Good luck in there, Watts. And here's a tip, don't make yourself out to be a target.” And with those words of wisdom he left, leaving Ansel alone with Electra as he nervously waited for his turn.
Time seemed to drag on as he waited for District Four to be finished with their final assessments before he himself was being called. He took in a deep breath before offering Electra a grim smile and making his way to the training room. The place was set up the exact same way it had been for their other training sessions, and Ansel glanced around at the different stations as he walked in. The boy was immediately drawn to the sword sparring area, as that is where he spent most of his time during training. However, Finnick's words flashed through his mind and he decided to instead head over to the weight-lifting station - which was by far his worst.
