#psf.98

Valeria knew exactly how long it’d been since she’d stopped sponsoring and turned to a career that kept her out of the spotlight of the Games but still involved. She could count how many years, tell how many months, down to the day. Spurred on from a need to run away, hide the truth of her son’s father, hide from her own feelings. She’d expected in the 11 years, 10 months, and 22 days since she’d made that decision that the very person she was running from might have retired. It wasn’t like Two lacked victors to mentor. And she certainly hadn’t expected for her new position to force her into the same room with the man. So when another body joined her at the bar and she realized just who it was, she contemplated turning and running off. “Ri,” but her voice spoke up before she could run again. She quickly took a drink of the beer in hand, a futile attempt to quell the sudden dose of nerve that swelled somewhere in her abdomen. “Haven’t keeled over yet?” She murmured, the corners of her lips turning up at the corner.

Ana had excused herself to the balcony an hour or so after arrival. Ria was sick and while Ana held up an image in the Capitol, it was hard to maintain that when she knew her kid was sick at home. She hadn’t returned once she’d gotten off the phone, staring out at the grounds of the presidential mansion. When she heard someone join her, she sighed, pushing back from the railing. “Can y-” She started before glancing over her shoulder. Her words fell quiet when she realized the newcomer was Walker, leaning back against the railing.