I was too worried to focus on how pretty the decor is. With a plush couch that I'm currently draped on and shining walls and floor.

I keep my hands curled into fists because I know they're shaking. I can't help but imagine all the ways that I can die; all the ways I'll be useless in that arena and the only way out is the painful hand of death.

No.

I refuse to get scared. The Capital can't get to me quite so easy. They'll have to try harder than that. Thalia Grace shows no fear. Never has, never will, end of the discussion.

I sit up on the couch and let my legs dangle off it. I run my hand over the nice soft fur, and simply wait for any visitors that might be coming.

I know my mom won't be coming. I ran away from her. She doesn't know where I am. I wish Jason could come with me. I wonder where he is, if he's ok.

I grip the fur on the couch in my fist, planting my feet firmly on the ground to keep my thoughts from drifting. Fear is the only thing I can detect, but I push it away anyway.

I won't be scared. I can't let this get to me. I won't show Snow the satisfaction of seeing me broken. Logically, there's always a chance that I'll come back, right?

I doubt it.

Before I can think much further, I hear the door fly open and thump onto the wall.

I get off the couch and barely have enough time to turn before I'm stumbling back, hit from a hug.

Luke is the one hugging me, and I hug him back. His embrace feels reassuring, safe. Maybe all I can focus on now is the way a hug feels.

He breaks away and looks at me with sadness and pain, but I see a little hope and belief in his gaze all the same.

"Thalia-"

"Don't say you're sorry," I interrupt. Not to be rude, but because I've been hit on my last nerve with the reaping. "I've heard it too much."

Luke settles down on the couch, and I sit next to him. "What should I say?"

I pause, thinking it through. Dam, he got me there.

"I don't know."

"Thalia, I know you'll make it out. Ok? I believe in you."

I force my words not to quake, but I still feel that overpowering fear. Like a grip on me that won't release me no matter how hard I try to get away from it. A cold hand.

"I-Luke, have you seen the tributes from wealthy districts?" I remember when they stabbed and killed and tore up the whole place on TV. I remember having to watch, and thinking 'boy, I'm so glad that's not me.'

Now it is me, and I can't get my mind off that thought.

"Don't think about them. Those are past games." Luke is staring directly into my eyes, facing me on the couch, radiating strong belief in me that I wish I had. I can see how it overpowers his own fear, his own sadness. I can tell he's saving the fear and sadness for when I'm not here, because he doesn't want the feelings to influence me now.

I look at the couch instead of his gaze, because I know he'll detect the fear in my eyes.

He detects it all the same. "Thalia, It's ok to be afraid."

"I'm fine." I suck in a breath, steeling my nerves and fear. "I'm fine."

"It's ok to be afraid."

I meet his gaze, his determined and sad and pained gaze. The way he sits, as if he knows that I'll come back and worry is beyond him. And in that gaze, I start to feel my wall crumble.

I don't want to be afraid. I can't be afraid. I don't want to be broken, even though I've been broken for quite awhile. I don't want to be scared because I'm Thalia Grace and Thalia Grace doesn't feel fear.

But Thalia Grace is still human.

I can feel the fear returning, compressing me in a tight grip that squeezes all of the air out of my lungs, and I know I can't escape it. Because the grip isn't even real, it's in my head. But it feels so real.

"I-" My voice wavers, and I try to keep it from shaking. I know my hands are shaking, and I grip my knees and try to still them. "I'm not afraid."

Luke studies me with a sad expression. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid for you. You can be afraid for you, too. It's not a crime."

I swallow a little bit, trying to force the fear passing into my voice down into my stomach. "I'm not afraid."

I can feel myself crumbling under his gaze, I can feel my posture melting into a defeated slouch.

"I'm afraid," I say quietly. My voice shakes a little bit, and I melt back into the fat arm of the chair. My hands are shaking again. It's like they don't know when to stop.

"I don't want to die, Luke." And in that one sentence, all the words come tumbling out of me before I can stop them, like the dam not far from where Luke and I stay. "I'm going to die in there. There are so many people bigger than me. I hardly have any chance. I dont want to be afraid because you seem so sure that I'll be ok. How are you so sure?"

Luke listens to the river of words tumbling out between my lips. That's what I like about him. He's a listener.

"I'm so sure because I know-I can feel it-that you'll make it out. I'm sure the tributes aren't going to be as bad as you think they are," Luke reassured me. I take in his soothing tone and try and use it to silence my fear.

"Right," I say, attempting to straighten up and sit like a normal person, instead of curling up on the arm of the couch like a defeated little kid.

But the pressure and panic feels like a weight on a my chest, like shackles at my wrists and ankles. I wish I could melt straight into this couch. I wonder what that would be like.

Luke regards me thoughtfully, with a small look of pity in his eyes.

"You don't have to pity me like I'm an incompetent child," I tell him, putting more bite into the words than I'd like.

Luke sighs. "You're not an 'incompetent child'."

"Thank you."

He stays quiet for a second, putting together the words in his mind. I know he wants to tell me something.

"Listen, Thalia. I know that going in there will be hard-"

l snort. Hard? "You don't have to water it down for me."

"-and I just want to make sure you know to give it your best shot." Luke looks at me with round, pleading eyes. Like a little puppy begging it's owner for a treat.

I look away from his eyes and instead at the floor, hoping he didn't pick up on my hesitation. "I will."

"Why'd you hesitate?" he asks me, and he sounds a tad more worried.

Dangit.

"Really, I will." I pick and twirl at a piece of fur on the couch. Why do I have to be so obvious when I'm lying?

"Thalia, really. Please try," Luke says, and he sounds so desperate I have to look up at him. He looks desperate, too. I don't blame him. If I were him, I wouldn't want to lose me either. I'm the only one he's got, and he's the only one I've got. I thought we'd be able to weasel our way through life like that without any disruptions like this.

"Please promise me you'll try. I know life here isn't too amazing to come back to. But you'd make it better." His eyes light up a little bit, and there's a bit of newfound excitement in his voice. "You'd have won-we can have an actual house. In the Victor Village. And we wouldn't have to beg for food anymore."

I dont take the excitement as greed, as most probably will. I take it as desperation to get out of the crappy life we're living in and start over on a clean new page. And I can't help but feel excited at the idea of what he's saying, too.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I say, trying to soften the words to soften the blow. "I don't know if I'll make it out."

"Whatever you do, just try," Luke tells me, sounding urgently sad. "Please. Just try because I can't lose anybody else and I don't want to be left alone again."

The puppy dog eyes-spare me Luke.

I nod a little bit, twirling a piece of fur on the couch between my fingers. "Yeah. I'll try."

"Promise?"

I hardly manage to actually meet his eyes, and when I do, I hope he can't read mine.

"I promise."