Azalea Rose Willow loves three things above everything else:
summer, the only season that mattered in her mind.
singing, alongside the comforting embrace of her guitar.
but above all, the easy camaraderie with the boy who lives next door to her, and...
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The morning sun cast a golden glow through the kitchen window, painting long shadows across the worn table where Azalea sat with her father, Tomas. A breakfast of stale bread and watery porridge sat untouched before him, a stark contrast to the vibrant plate of fruit and nuts Azalea was attacking with gusto.
"Not hungry, Pa?" she asked, glancing at him between bites.
Tomas sighed, pushing the untouched food around his plate. "It's Callum all over again. Went off sulking after our little talk, wouldn't listen to reason as usual."
"After yesterday's embarrassment I assumed he would've started to listen to you." Azalea murmured to herself, before comforting her dad. "He's not interested in guidance, Pa," Azalea countered. "He thinks he can brute force his way to victory only."
"Well that will not last him very long if he doesn't work to get good and valuable sponsors." Tomas argued, simmering in frustration. "He has the luck of being district four, you know how many kids would benefit the contacts I have for him inside the Capitol?"
"Well perhaps it's because you aren't meant to waste your contacts on someone as annoying as him, Pa."
A flicker of hope ignited in Tomas' eyes. "Which is why your and Finnick's plan is brilliant, Azalea. Infiltrating the Careers, sowing discord... if we can pull it off, it could be your best chance yet."
Azalea felt a flicker of hope. "You think it could work?"
Tomas nodded, his eyes regaining some of their usual spark. "It's our best shot. Those Careers are a force to be reckoned with, but even a strong alliance can be fractured."
Finnick, who had been largely silent, took a slow, deliberate sip of tea.
"Well," he announced, clapping his hands together, "I can't sit around all day. Time to get to work! Gotta make sure our Azalea gets the sponsors she deserves. Finnick, you're in charge of laying out the training routine for today."
He leaned down and kissed her forehead, a silent promise exchanged in the simple gesture. With that, he strode out of the room, leaving Azalea and Finnick alone. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions.
Azalea stole a glance at Finnick, her feline companion's emerald eyes gleaming with a nervous energy.
"So mentor, what's my routine for today?"
❀ ~ ❀ ~ ❀ ~ ❀ ~ ❀ ~ ❀
Azalea scanned the room, her gaze landing on a mop of unruly blonde ish hair slumped over a holographic tablet. It was Chip, the young victor from District 7.
Unlike many tributes focused intensely on the training simulations, he was scrolling through the tablet with an expression of utter boredom.
With a sigh that could have rivaled the wind whipping through a forest, he tossed his head back, muttering something under his breath.
