Reflecting Light

Reflecting Light

Once the annual Reaping has passed, and summer rolls out, Winter is the next toughest part of the year—another season of survival. Fortunately, best friend Treech knows exactly how to brighten up the stormy days.

Treech X Lamina | The Hunger Games

IT’S RAINING, just as it was the day she met him. The clouds are so thick you could just reach up and eat them—they do nothing to quell the rumbling in Lamina’s stomach; unfortunately, tesserae doesn’t do much to quell an appetite.

School’s out for the day—mostly everyone has left, besides the few troublemakers that still roam the halls, trying to escape detention. Perhaps, to them, Lamina looks the same. Or at least she hopes she does; it might keep them off her back. She watches as they jostle around by the door, trying to shove one another out into the heavy rain, thunder rumbling every few seconds. They laugh and shout as boys typically do, the way her cousins do when she sees them.

The sound of new footsteps growing closer prompts Lamina into action, turning her head. Newly-cut hair tickles her neck, but it’s forgotten quickly when Treech’s sharp, cheeky grin comes into sight.

“Thank goodness,” Lamina pushed herself off of the wall. “I was starting to think you were going to ditch me.”

“Ditch you?” He gasped, as though it were a crime worth the punishment of a hanging. “How dare you think so lowly of me.” He swung a heavy arm around her neck, pulling her along to the door where the boys are still shouting. As it always does, her heart speeds up ever so slightly at the chance of an altercation, but it doesn’t matter now that Treech is here—he’s popular within the small school.

She grimaces as the first few drops hit her face, and then all at once as Treech throws them out into the weather, at its mercy. Its cold texture shocks her at first, but Treech just laughs, as if there could be nothing better in the world than to be exposed to the elements, feeling life itself. Perhaps, though she’d only realised it now, he always had been that way.

“Oh—no, let’s go back inside—” she tries, resisting against his hold. “We’ll wait the rain out.”

He’s stronger than he looks, she’s always said so. Tall, firm around the shoulders when he swings her over his shoulder. In this last year of school, it’s like he’s shot up at a thousand miles a second. Lamina yells in surprise, protesting.

“Don’t be a baby,” he calls. “What’s a bit of rain?”

“What will your mother say?” She rolls her eyes playfully, “when you return home with ruined clothes?”

“Not much!” He bounces down the steps of the building, Lamina jostling at his shoulder. She can’t help the laugh that escapes. Treech’s hand on her ankle, just over her boot, holds tighter on the last, steepest step, the other hand he has raised to her hip holding her there.

This isn’t helping the accusations she thinks to herself, flexing her hand against Treech’s neck. My mother will never let this go.

Another part of her brain whispers, do you want her to?

No. She isn’t sure she does.

She’s shaken to life when he suddenly leans forward, hands releasing her. Lamina’s boots crunch the gravel and stones. They’re on the Main Street now, through the town. And she’s drenched from head to toe. A glance up at Treech shows her that he is, too. What were this morning dirt-brown curls, shiny and soft, are now flat against his head like a wet dog, his jacket dripping water. He still beams at her, and snatches her hand.

“Come on, then!” He calls, yanking her into a run with him. “I got something for you!”

She pants with exertion, trying to keep up with him. He doesn’t let go of her hand, warming it up. “Like what?” She manages. They fly past people on their work breaks, sitting outside their stores. They fly past the peacekeepers patrolling, who simply follow herself and Treech with calculating eyes. They shoot past the barbed-wire fences separating the soggy, dirty woodlands from the town, and the people working out there, axes coming down every few seconds, the people slick with rain and sweat.

She tries not to think of the future. Of what will be for her and Treech in only five months. A torturous summer, a lifetime of work. Another Reaping. If they can make it this final Reaping without being called up, they’ll be safe for the rest of their lives. Just let them turn eighteen, after the Reaping. They’ve been lucky since the Reapings started, just before they turned seven years of age. Luck has been on their side, mostly. Ten years, no calling their names.

Lamina hopes with all her heart, so hard, that it physically aches.

Treech finds a spot just behind a building due for demolition in a couple of weeks. There are no peacekeepers this far out of town, there’s nobody this far out of town, especially not in this weather. You’d have to be insane, she thinks.

“What is it?” Lamina’s brows raise, staring Treech down. His own eyebrows jump, a sly little grin coming to his face; it fits him well. Tanned hands dig around in the pockets of his pants, until finally he pulls out a small, white package.

“What is this?” She snickers, in a way she only does around Treech and her family. “Some sort of deal?”

“Only just,” he shrugs his shoulders, gesturing for her hands. She holds them out without question—trust came easily between them. He tipped the package until two little things fell into her palm.

Her eyes wide, Lamina can’t believe it. “No. Way. But—how did you get these?” The two small, wrapped candies are a delicacy she only had the luxury of tasting once, in a memory before the war, before the first games.

He winked. “Well now, I can’t go ‘round just telling anybody the tricks of the trade, can I?”

She rolled her eyes, a smile betraying her, and moved to pull her hand away. Treech’s larger one shot out, clasping hers closed around the candy.

“What, changed your mind?”

“Don’t I get a reward for my hard work?” He asks, not shy in the slightest.

She scoffs loudly, shoving him away softly. “My presence is enough, don’t you think?”

They sit, knees knocking in the rain, eating stolen candies.

Anything for one another.

Summer comes around much too quickly. School ends, the weather ramps up and sooner rather than later, the days are scorching.

Lamina knows, this is where things begin to head downhill.

Working in the woods is torture, in the heat. Peacekeepers guard the place, and have it surrounded. No breaks are to be taken unless they say so. Her skin is burned and sore before she knows it, and she hasn’t talked to her friends even once in the last two months. The shifts are exhausting, and prompt no want to so much as visit anybody quickly. It’s tedious, tiring work, but she becomes quick with an axe before she knows it, as if it was second nature. There’s always the fear of striking herself, something she tries to not think of before bed at night. But it never comes.

The Reaping is approaching. Only a matter of weeks away. And she prays to whatever is up there, whoever it is that her grandmother prays to, also, that she will be kept safe and granted this final wish.

Two months after the start of working long days, Lamina finally catches a glimpse of Treech. He’s just a few yards away, swinging that axe into the base of a tree with another guy on the opposite side of it. Under the unforgiving sun, his tan skin shines with sweat. He’s built up more muscle than he had at school, but the little amount of food everyone receives even after working isn’t enough to build up the way anyone should in District 7.

A peacekeeper notices she’s stopped working, and yells, jabbing her in the neck with the end of his gun. The altercation causes people to look and stare, until she raises her axe on sore arms and brings it down once more, splitting wood over and over again. People go back to work, but she slows ever so slightly, looking to her left.

Treech, dark-eyed, sleeves rolled up, watching.

He looks away before she can smile.

Reaping day comes around.

And the world comes crashing down.

Her name, the mayor calls.

Treech’s name, last.

He doesn’t look her in the eyes.

She can’t stop the crying.

She can’t believe their luck.

Or rather, lack thereof.

It happens quickly.

A long trip to the Capitol, embarrassed on live television. A capture in a zoo enclosure. A mentor in red shows up for one of the tributes, a Lucy Gray Baird. Where is Lamina’s tribute, she wonders? What about Treech’s? Don’t they care?

It’s the first night in the zoo that he talks to her.

“I’m sorry.”

The whisper comes when everyone else is asleep, the zoo empty of visitors, the night cooler than it gets in the district.

Lamina turns her head, aching on concrete. At her side, Treech is watching her. She’d been watching the starry sky, wondering if it would be the last time she saw them ever. Who knew; maybe she could win this thing.

Her eyes burn with tears again, throat closing up. And she nods.

“It’s okay.”

He reaches for her hand, and she lets him take it.

“I’ve got your back, alright? You can trust me.”

They meet with their mentors the next day. Treech has a girl who is soft-spoken and almost kind. Lamina gets a harsh boy, who smugly states, “You will win, Lamina.”

But not for her sake.

She can’t stop crying in there, either, under the judging gaze of her mentor, who runs through a list of everything she can do to win this game, including a detailed plan of which tributes to take out first—Dill, an ill girl who coughs through the night; Wovey, she’s young, an easy target. And then the ones to look out for—Treech, he says, but she knows he won’t touch her; Coral, who has been eyeing her up already, looking for her weak points.

They’re led back to the zoo straight after the meeting. Visitors come and go—Lamina almost wished they’d stay, and make the day last longer, to avoid the games tomorrow morning.

On the edge of sleep, she can’t quite grasp what is is that’s happening when peacekeepers burst into the zoo and demand they get in the truck. Panic strikes her so firmly in the face that Treech has to pull her along into the vehicle, by the hand, like they’re back in school.

They’re shown the arena they are due to fight to the death in from tomorrow morning. It’s huge, and she tries the best she can to take in all the places she could hide—there aren’t many. It’s one big, open space. She feels more hopeless and desperate than ever.

“Hey—lumberjack,” the girl—Coral, Lamina remembers her as—calls over to Treech. “Come here.”

Treech nods his head over to her. “Lamina—”

“No. Just you,” Coral says firmly. She eyes Lamina up and down. “Just you.”

And now she wants to scream. Wants to tear down the arena inch by inch with nothing but her hands, even if they bleed. Wants to shoot the peacekeepers away, wants to pull Treech back to her and demand he doesn’t let her go.

But, wishes aren’t granted when you’re from the districts. She should have been used to it by now.

People are watching them when Treech abandons her, walking over the Coral.

That’s when the bombing starts.

‘Rebels’ she hears a peacekeeper cry. The arena begins to fall to pieces and she can’t believe her eyes. Dust, fire and sparks fly up from everywhere, making it hard to breathe. The dirt in her eyes stings and burns, and she stumbles for a second, rocks and pieces of rubble hitting her skin, hurting her. She can’t see anyone, but she hears him.

“Lamina?”

It’s a loud, terrified shout of her name, and it hurts her a little bit more.

Treech shouts again, less sure this time. In a way, she’s glad he’s worried. On the other hand, she’s just as scared for him. At least he isn’t dead.

Someone picks her up from the floor with such vigor that it makes her dizzy, still unable to see. People are shouting and crying all around. All she does is hope the person pulling her along is someone good.

It’s a peacekeeper. He shoves her back into the wagon, falling into Dill, one of the other girls. One by one, the tributes are rounded up again, and taken back to the zoo. Treech is the last to be put on the wagon, heaving for breath. He blinks wide-eyed at Lamina, wiping his hands across his face, trying to get as much dirt off as he can.

She’s hurt. Physically, it’s easy to deal with the pain. More than once she’s fallen in the woods and had more splinters than she can count stuck in her hands. But emotionally, she’s scared. Treech has willingly offered himself up to another group—an alliance, she wants to call it, without a second thought. They’re supposed to be partners—if not district partners, at least friends.

That night, Treech sleeps away from her, on the other side of the pen.

And in the morning, when the games begin, he doesn’t talk to her. She cries the whole way to the arena, trying to hold it all inside, but she’s loud. Reaper, one of the boys, keeps glancing over at her, and she’s terrified. He’s sizing her up for the kill, she knows he is. He’s bigger than her, a lot stronger, and he hasn’t shown one bit of weakness this whole time. Coral grins cruelly when she meets Lamina’s eye, and again in the arena, when the countdown begins.

The bell rings, signally the start of the end. It’s a bloodbath already, but a sudden determination has struck her. She will not die here. There’s a small axe relatively close, at the bottom of the pile of rubble the others are climbing up, striking one another for the best weapon. She’s trying to ignore the district 2 boy, hanging from a rafter. Is he still alive? She’s not sure. Maybe he escaped last night in the bombing—she didn’t see him back at the zoo.

She’s got her weapon, and she gets out of there, climbing a broken beam all the way to the top. There’s a good vantage point up here, where she can watch the other tributes, the whole arena, and see who’s coming.

It’s a long, slow game.

Up from her height, she watches people die, just glad it’s not her. It’s awful to see, of course, but she thinks the more that go already, the more chance she has of getting home. They’ve all noticed her, sitting and watching, but nobody has approached, not yet. She keeps note of Treech guiding his little group away from her where he can, and wishes she could laugh. He’s abandoned her, left her to fend for herself, but tries in his own way to help.

Whatever was the point?

A day passes, and then the night, and before she knows it, she’s tired, thirsty and starving. Nobody has sent anything yet. Nothing at all to anybody.

But plenty have died.

Eventually, when she thinks she might be safe, Coral comes for her. Mizzen, a small, skinny boy, comes from one side, climbing up, and Coral the other, approaching her like a trapped animal. Treech and another boy watch from below.

She tries her best.

She hopes her family know that. She really, really fought to the end.

When Coral strikes her the first time, she’s stolen of breath. Lamina drops her axe, her heart plummeting in shock. This can’t be happening, surely? This isn’t the end, right? Treech wouldn’t leave her up for the kill, would he?

Oh, but he would. Lamina gasps, trying not to scream. Her betrayed eyes drop down to Treech as her hand shakes violently, trying to push down on her bleeding stomach, punctured from Coral’s weapon. Treech has turned pale, his eyes so wide, looking at her and away, at her and away.

Coral strikes her again, in the chest this time, and Lamina shouts, her whole body weak and shaking. Coral pushes her off the edge of where she thought she found safety, and she plummets toward the ground, dizzy and tired.

It doesn’t take long.

Her last thought belongs to Treech.

for @lofhdfn who requested the Treech and Lamina fic :)

‘It doesn’t take long’ hurt me icl. It took a while to get this out, I rewrote it a couple of times but I think I’m fairly happy with it, now. This is more of an interpretation story, I didn’t want to make anything too set in stone in case it didn’t go well or didn’t work with things I planned while writing it. I did take a bit out, but I tried to include as much angst as I could while still showing how they cared for one another.

district two → masonry

“our nation would be nothing without district two’s superb stonework. it builds and fortifies our cities and its citizens are known individually for their strength.”

What do you mean Finnick is dead?

The Finnick that makes Annie and his son cute little bento boxes everyday?

The Finnick that takes his family on excursions to Districts 7 and 12 to meet Uncle Peeta, Uncle Haymitch, Auntie Johanna and Auntie Katniss every year?

The Finnick who likes to throw Johanna and Katniss into the ocean whenever they manage to make their way over to District 4?

Nah. Finnick isn't dead.

okie okie could I req something for Lamina x mentor reader (Kinda slow burn but your choice)? Where reader is anti-district like Arachne, bad mouths the districts, ends up getting assigned to Lamina (she's like can't believe I'm stuck with the girl who always cries). But after visiting the Zoo and interacting with Lamina over the few days (like interviews and tour of the arena etc) They warm up to each other and R defo get's attached. Interacting with Lamina changing her view of the districts! Also a little bit of R comforting Lamina when she cries (probs during the interview with the mentors)! Thank you sm, and feel free to make any changes! Take your time love <33 - N

power trip - lamina

requested? - yes

a/n - very unedited, there are a lot of typos in here, i may have messed up the timeline slightly because it's been a minute, you've been warned. I loved writing mean capitol reader, and yes, I did include the tribute sandwich cliché, but it makes the story entertaining. Bite me lol. Lastly, I definitely went a little overboard so I had to do some hcs thrown in with the fic so it would get done sometime this century. I hope you're okay with that <3

ship - (probably ooc) Lamina x Capitol! Fem! Reader , Arachne Crane x Capitol! Fem! Reader if you squint

cw - swear words, violence, mean reader at the beginning, classism? arachne's death is mentioned but not explicitly, angst, everyone's bad at feelings

You would argue there was absolutely no honor in dealing with the crying District Seven girl, but you (graciously, you might add), held your tongue. Maybe you were wrong about her, but really, when were you ever wrong?

                                                 ⊹ ⋆🎀 ⋆⊹

As a part of the Captiol Academy, you'd had the "honor" of being selected to mentor a tribute and knew it would be rude to refuse

besides, there wasn't any harm in recognition

you would argue there was absolutely zero honor in dealing with districts

you (graciously you might add), held your tongue though

You shared a look with Arachne, both knowing damn well why you were doing this. You wanted that recognition, and of course, the Plinth Prize couldn't hurt. Surely there wasn't anything wrong with a little friendly competition though. You'd already agreed to buy matching dresses for practically every event ou'd be invited to after this was all over, both coming from affluent and well liked families, even if you didn't win, you'd get respect. However, in all honesty, you knew yourself and you knew her. It was going to be one of you winning this thing.

For the first time in your life, you waited eagerly for Dean Highbottom's announcement. The sooner you could deal with whatever grimy tribute they assigned, the better. You had a social life to attend to, after all.

Sure enough, there she was. Your tribute, the one that was supposed to bring you glory, looking at the camera, crying. You sighed. Great, you got the crybaby. Just your luck. Maybe she would pull herself together when you met. Hopefully. Arachne always said you were too much of an optimist.

you'd found out where your tribute was being held and thought it was worth a shot visiting her

you could use the media attension and you'd have to visit her sometime to make sure she had a shot at winning anyway

so you decided to bite the bullet, put on your red uniform and favorite perfume and go see what that girl's deal was

Realizing all too late as you picked your way to the enclosure, you'd gotten dressed up, even tried to make that horrible uniform look good for nothing. Your tribute sat a ways away from the bars, slumped over, practically blending in with the enclosure. Noticing your presence, you saw her glassy eyes flick up from the ground, scanning your face, jewelry, uniform, and finally, your shoes. Feeling very strange, almost judged, you fixed your shirt, reminding yourself that girl probably wouldn't recognize a designer shoe if you threw it at her.

"District Seven, yes?" You attempted a halfhearted wave.

She nodded. What was her name again? You’d tried to remember it, but couldn’t really bring yourself to care much. It was something odd, Lily? Laminate? Laboratory? Leather? Leslie? Regardless, you were suddenly face-to-face with only bars separating you.

"I'm Lamina" Her voice was slightly thick from crying but low and softer than you'd expected.

"Oh. Lovely" Forcing yourself not to take a step back, you suddenly became very aware of the smell of unwashed bodies and the general odor that came with a monkey enclosure.

I'll be your mentor" Holding a hand out cautiously, you wondered for a second if she didn't understand what you meant to do, if perhaps she might try and bite it. Fortunatlely, she took it and you did your best not to flinch at the sight of her rather grimy nails.

This was so not worth it.

later Arachne, who had been almost impressed by your altruism, regretted asking you how your little trip went

it was like you were in love the way you were that obsessed with your District Seven girl and how much of a "total lost cause" she was.

she quite honestly wished you'd just shut up and ignore the damn tribute. That's what everyone else was doing!

You just weren't that smart! She always knew she was the brains in the friendship

She did enjoy hearing about Coriolanus' mentoring though (especially when it came to him failing at said mentoring)

Arachne almost felt bad for that little District Twelve girl who according to you, was very clearly the man's next fling

In her opinion, Coriolanus had never hesitated to come on to anything with legs. not long ago, you.’d been one of his victims. He'd been so desperately trying to get you as a date to one of his parties only a few months before, and you were so much better than that. He was just tragic

Surprisingly, Arachne had decided to go visit her tribute before you that day, and news of what happened had reached you soon after. You'd tried to tell her the idea wasn't good, but she just hadn't listened. She never did. That was the end of your friendship with Arachne Crane. Maybe one of your closest friends had been killed after doing something very very dumb, but you needed a good public image and you weren't going to let her ruin it.

You had decided to come back to the enclosure, this time with a meal and a half-assed attempt at a mentorship plan, half hoping Lamina wouldn't be there. She was though, looking through the bars, crinkled clothes, dirty nails, a tear-stained face and very clearly scared as always. Maintaining your distance, you pushed a bag of food through the bars with a bored look. Grime did not come out of your gloves easily. You’d learned that the hard way. You weren’t stupid though. She had to eat.

You weren't sure what district people ate, so you'd settled on a bowl of fruit, a bottle of sparkling water, and a sandwich. You couldn't have your tribute fainting in front of the entire Capitol, you'd be a disgrace. You’d never cooked much, but you’d tried. On second thought, maybe Caviar, Pistachio, Cucumber and Pepper Jelly hadn’t been the combination you’d thought it would be though. feeling oddly self conscious at the girl looking at the food suspiciously, you gave her a hard look,

“I didn’t poison it, you know”

Lamina didn't seem convinced, but she took a bite, still eyeing you as if you might pounce.

"It's probably time to start getting ready for the games, but that's where I come in." You figured that was a good place to start. "Basically, I'll be making sure the other tributes don’t try to kill you first.” You paused noticing the horrified look on her face. "Oh, right! And, don’t worry. I’ll also help fix this. I’ll make you- passable in no time. You’ve definitely got potential.” Gesturing towards her clothes, you earned a small scoff. That was the most attitude you’d seen, but maybe you did have a shot at her winning. That was something.

normally, Lamina tried to see the best in people, but she was having a very hard time with you

you were pretty, she wouldn't deny that, but your personality just didn't match. you were just another prissy spoiled capitol brat who only wanted to help her in order to look good

you were confusing though, you had (clearly) cooked food for her and put in effort where few other mentors did, the thing was, she was pretty sure you weren't aware of it

you continued to confuse her as you returned daily, sometimes twice to "coach" her through getting sponsors, creating a solid story for her interview, and survival tactics.

you were confused too

Some people from the Capitol Academy were concerned, they had a right to be, they knew how close you'd been with Arachne, but in all honestly, you didn't want to talk about her. You had other things on your mind.

”I have to wear one of those ugly ass uniforms and deal with that until this shit show is over” you said, pointing an accusatory painted nail at the picture of your tribute you'd set on your desk, so you didn't forget. Obviously

"Still a total baby?" The girl was concerned, clearly. You'd only talked a few times, but she was nice enough and you needed someone, anyone, right now.

you paused “Yeah, she just can't stop crying. It's unnerving"

Shaking her head, the girl brushed a glitter varnish over one of your nails. "You’ll figure something out”

You hoped so.

"Arachne's idea was stupid. I tried to tell her so, but she thought she knew best. She always did. Any ideas I had were irrelevant, even if she mentioned them first, it didn't matter. The second I said something out loud, it was a complete joke. It's no wonder her tribute killed her. I would've done the same if I was in her place."

You were shocked at how bitter you sounded. A wave of guilt washed over you. Bad mouthing your now deceased best friend was so gauche. You ignored the guilt though. It wasn’t like she would’ve had any issue doing the same if she was in your place. You really wished she was there though. Having someone like her to complain to about your assigned charity case with would be nice.

Later that night, even after changing into a silk robe, and removing your makeup, you found yourself still thinking about your tribute. You hoped she was alright wherever she was. Was she thinking about you? That was an odd thought. Since when did you actually care about your tribute? You figured you needed some rest. you always thought odd things before bed.

Through the next few days, you visited Lamina. you weren't sure why

It wouldn’t have been hard to just say fuck it and forget about her, Plinth Prize be damned. Your family could've probably started their own namesake prize if they truly wanted to.

Still, you found yourself walking back to that same monkey enclosure, more food (that you’d bought this time, thankfully) a selection of drinks, a blanket, and a box of small desserts in hand

Walking over to where you waited against the bars, she looked at you warily. "What’s that?"

you pushed the box through the bars as gently as possible.

“Dessert”

She tilted her head to the side, confused “Why?”

“They’re for you. I saw what happened with Trech. If you need to get anyone to like you, there’s enough to go around."

"Alright-"

"What? Bribery is a tactic! They have fighting skills, but you have desserts. That's definitely something!"

Lamina didn't seem convinced, but she did look slightly amused. It was better than nothing.

after the food, it was slightly easier to get through to her with your mentorship plan

for someone with that much experience in faking smiles, you had no idea how you were failing so horribly in teaching her.

even after practicing for at least an hour, the only thing that you succeeded in was producing cringes and wobbly frowns

you watched as her tragic attempt crumbled. tears were running down her face again. you wanted to be irritated, she just couldn’t get it together for a few minutes! you couldn’t manage it though.

something just felt off- similar to how you'd felt after saying those things about Arachne. your face was growing hot, you suddenly wanted very badly to crawl into a cave and stay there until this was all over.

you weren’t sure why, but you felt yourself reaching through the bars and awkwardly patting the girl on the arm

"Is something um- wrong?"

you were quickly finding that you were awful at comforting people

She sniffled, looking at you “Everything's wrong”

Lamina hadn't known this at first, but she was quickly catching on: you were very stupid. She really would have to spell it out

What was wrong? Well, she'd been forced to fight other children for the entertainment of The Capitol, people like you, who couldn't care less if she lived or died, not really. just as long as they got a good show and had the opportunity to feel good about themselves after sending a bandage to a child dying of infection.

Next, even if she did win, she'd still be known as the child who killed everyone and being celebrated for it even if the guilt was eating her alive.

Finally, Lamina knew she wouldn’t make it, she knew she didn’t want to kill, and she knew she wouldn’t see her family ever again, even though she promised they'd see her again and she hated breaking promises.

that was what was wrong, you idiot (she kindly left the last part out)

"Oh- Oh no" You were shaking your head now, blinking furiously.

You lifted your hand slightly, unsure if you were doing the correct thing, but she quickly placed a hand on yours. Looking at you now, she wondered if she'd spent too long crying and the tears had somehow glazed her eyes over but no. She was studying your face, the face of the person who was supposed to be teaching her how to achieve a perfect smile, and you were crying. Crying. She couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction.

You noticed her staring and turned away sharply.

“Look what you did! There's water on my face” you huffed, frantically dabbing at your eyes so your mascara wouldn’t run with your free hand. You didn't move away though.

You continued your little lesson after dabbing at your eyes a bit more, and didn't mention what had happened for the rest of the day

the next morning she woke up to your very annoyed voice arguing with a Peacekeeper, getting louder until you yelled a very exasperated "Thank you! Was that so hard?"

"Visiting hours barely started, why are you here so early?"

"Well excuse me if I want to help you out a little, I brought breakfast!"

Lamina still seemed confused

“Why are you being so kind? ”

“I- don’t know! I think I made a mistake" You weren't sure what had been going on, but you felt like being here was the right choice. Rather, you had. Right now you were really wishing she would stop asking questions and just take the pastries and coffee you'd brought

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, okay? You’re making me feel some odd things and I don’t understand any of them, so please don’t ask-“

“Did you really say please?”

“Yes!" You looked at her, smiling slightly now, and wished for a moment that she'd go back to crying. Anything would be better than that strange little (oddly endearing) smile of hers. "Now please shut up! I’ll be back later!"

"You’re not so bad, you know."

Turning to leave, you shook your head. She was just now realizing it? Sad.

"Of course I'm not! I'm perfect?"

She gave you a look

"I know you don't want me to take that back."

"You. Wouldn’t. Dare.”

"Really?”

You gasped, almost laughing now.

"You're mean, Lamina!"

Hearing you say her name like that made her feel very strange

Something wouldn't let you stop thinking about that little interaction, even through the arena tours, even up until the interviews.

It had been the closest thing you'd had to an actual connection with someone since Arachne had gone off and done- that, but still, this felt better somehow. The connection felt better with your tribute. You shuddered, what was happening?

All you knew was you cared about getting her through the games in one piece now, for better or for worse.

At your interview, you'd dressed well, deciding to finally ditch the Capitol Uniform for a large lacy purple dress and exaggerated gold eye makeup, lamina still in her clothes from before

It had gone well enough, however she had broke down crying once more. You couldn't even bring yourself to feel any irritation anymore, only wishing you could wrap her in a tight hug and tell her how sorry you were about everything. you didn't though

Instead, you'd done your best to use her tears to make any spectators feel connected to her, and had done a damn good job if you said so yourself, people loved her and you honestly didn't blame them

towards the end, she slipped her hand in yours. Your first instinct was to pull back, hissing “Don’t touch me!” but something made you stay still, giving her hand a small squeeze

Unfortunately, after the interview, she was still very clearly in distress

“Are you alright?”

She shook her head, shaking.

“Come” You lead her to a corner and sat down on a plush couch, pulling her into a hug. “It’s going to be okay”

“It’s not”

You cringed realizing she had a point

“Please try to be okay. Your family won't want to loose you. Honestly, I don't want to loose you either.” You cringed as she only shook more in your arms, deciding the best course of action was to just keep hugging her until she decided to move. Minutes passed and her breathing became calmer as she got up, cringing at the tear stains she'd left on your dress, looking at you now, almost like she was studying you.

“Thank you.”

”You really don’t need to thank me. I've been horrible to you and I would completely understand if you wanted nothing to do with me after this”

“I want to though. You’re kinder than you think you are.”

"What?"

“When I met you, I thought you were horrible. Pretty, but horrible. You don't notice it, but you’re not. You care about people so much even if you try not to. God, you brought me desserts just so I could build trust between the other tributes, even though I know you thought I wasn’t worth the time. What's most important is that you realized you were in the wrong and you're trying to understand why.

You sat in silence for a while, Lamina knew you were confused, you'd only recently realized the district people were worthy of respect and were taking on a lot of information at once regarding that general subject.

what she hadn't expected was being hugged and hearing the words "I don't want to loose you" or even "Thank you" from the same girl who'd been afraid to touch her a week ago.

You spoke, almost sounding choked up,

"You're going to be okay. When you win, you'll see."

"If" she corrected

"Don't even think about it. You will get through this."

You nearly froze as you felt her head fall back on your shoulder again .You settled into the couch, scared to move in case it disturbed her. She seemed calmer this time though, at least you hoped so.

"I don't really want to loose you either"

*Bonus hcs because I've lost my mind. You're welcome.*

if she wins (she does because I said so) and gets out of the arena, the first thing she notices is someone running towards her at full speed in a floor length blue gown and very jingly jewelry. You’re there practically smashing into a wall, hugging her like you’re afraid of letting go.

The first words out of your mouth were "I told you so" and she had half a mind to throw her first ever punch, but then, your face melted into a huge smile and you were whispering how proud you were. You'd been wrong, everything was not alright, she'd killed more people than she'd ever wanted to and was undoubtedly going to be working through guilt for years after, but everything was better.

next thing she knew, she was asking if she could kiss you, you nodded, and her lips were on yours

you buy her gifts constantly. She doesn’t care about material things as much as you, but knows it’s one of the ways you show love, besides you have a way of finding fun trinkets, accessories, and hair products she ends up loving.

Visiting her district and meeting her family was something you'd been nervous about, but wanted to do. they did threaten you with an axe before they knew who you were, but after your talks with Lamina, you understood why.

getting a splinter your first day in District Seven, convincing yourself you’re dying, and giving a very dramatic speech, practically eulogizing yourself while she just watches before finding some tweezers and pulling it out. You nearly fainted.

You're one of the only people she makes fun of (kindly of course) She can't help it. There's just so much for her to work with.

I read TBOSAS over Christmas and I gotta say the film deprived us of some very funny classmate dynamics

Jennifer Lawrence at the Golden Globes 2024!