Living Lies ✜ Hunger Games x Reader

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"Nervous?"

The obvious underlying rhetorical meaning of your question doesn't escape the wise and listening ears of Paylor. Her serious face creases into a few lines in the small beginning of a smile.

"To you, I shouldn't be," she reveals, loading several intimidating looking guns into the jet your team is flying off in. "But if you aren't nervous, you're not human."

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

The commander's cheek twitches, lip quirked up. "Grab your things, settle in. It'll be a while."

"Too bad teleportation hasn't been invented yet," you muse.

"I think I prefer it this way. Sounds terrifying," a girl sitting next to your next to you chuckles.

You stop loading your weapon halfway through and turn to her. "How so?" you ask curiously.

"Well, when you think about it, it's kinda freaky, right? One second, you're here, and the next you're there. Who's to say your leg won't stay behind in District 13?"

You let out an amused huff and holster a large gun to a clip your back. "You have a point."

There's a brief pause before she responds. "I'm Raine, by the way. Nice to finally meet the Phoenix. You're the talk of District 13. Quite a speech."

She blows a strand of shiny dark hair out of her face. It's accented by streaks of red, contrasts against her tan skin. You fight back a grin. "Phoenix sounds like a line straight out of a propo script," you joke, bending down to peer beneath a bench. There's a black box, the mockingjay pin symbol emblazoned on the front, top slightly dusty. Your next words come out slightly muffled. "Call me (Y/n)."

Raine watches carefully as you gingerly remove the case from its secluded position. "Alright, (Y/n). What's in the case?"

You shoot her a smirk, popping the locks open and opening the black case. The top thumps against the stand you've set it on, revealing a neat row of shiny, glinting blades. The handles of the throwing knives are smooth to touch and easy to handle; easier to twirl and light, suited for your deft hand.

"Throwing knives," she assumes, to which you nod. "I saw you—in the Games, I mean."

You freeze momentarily but shake off the discomfort. "And?"

"You seemed like you knew what you were doing with those."

"That's because I did—I do," you let out a small, amused huff of air. "Growing up in District 12, when you're hunting just to stay alive, you need to know what you're doing. Not to mention, preparing yourself for the Games your entire life. Just knowing that you have a greater risk in being Reaped every year."

Raine intently watches you examining each knife with scrutiny. She's silent, almost disbelieving. You steal a glance in her direction before returning to your work. "You grew up in District 13, then?"

She nods hesitantly. "I never had to go through that. It sounds... horrible."

"Yeah, well, it's just as horrible as it sounds," you respond grimly. "We need to stop it. We either succeed here or we fail. But by the time the Districts are ready to rebel again, they could be on the 150th Hunger Games—who knows?"

Raine smiles. "True to your word."

You don't smile back, but she manages to see the humor in your eyes. "Over the years, I've adopted a little saying that my family used to repeat. Nunc aut numquam. I used to say that to myself in the Games when I needed encouragement to do something crazy."