A L T H E A

   When the twins were finished cleaning her skin, Althea practically glowed. Lottie and Magroot had to leave when their blubbering became too much.
   Iggy offered her a few snacks while Oliver worked his makeup magic. They had changed the colors of their suits from red and green to a somber gray and an electric blue. Althea watched as Oliver battled tears the whole time.
   Both twins were at loss for words so Althea spoke first. "It's been an honor to work with you both," she soothed.
   Iggy cupped her cheeks gently. "I don't think I'll ever be able to look into another pair of blue eyes without seeing your face." His voice cracked, but at least he tried. Oliver's tears had spilled over, but he gave her a dime nod before both men left her alone.
   Althea sighed and looked into the mirror. She was not shocked to find she looked amazing, but the lack of any lipstick was a little off putting. Her eyelids were a sparkly blue with azure gemstones lining the bottom of her eye. Next to the mirror, a tube of lipstick sat forgotten on a small table. The silk of her robe felt heavenly on her bare skin as she crossed the room to grab the final part of her makeup look.
Her hair had been curled voluminously and hung loosely down her back. If not for the bold makeup, she might've been convinced they were going for something more natural in a city of oddities. Twisting the tube, the lipstick was two inches from her skin when someone cleared their throat. Althea turned to find Paprika with her arms crossed.
"You would think Oliver would remember lipstick after five years of working here," she tutted. She, like Cinna, dressed in blacks and grays, but decorated herself with gold.
Althea handed the tube to her friend. "Yeah, you'd think so."
Paprika raised the lipstick to the Althea's lips, and for the first time in all the years the brunette had known her, the stylist's hand trembled. Althea gently gripped Pap's wrist before the lipstick could touch her.
"Pap."
The woman sighed, "Cinna is going to get himself killed."
A hissing breath streamed through Althea's teeth. Cinna was a brilliant man and a wonderful stylist. He was cautious — careful. But then again, it didn't take much for Snow to stamp you with a death sentence.
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Not die?" Paprika smiled painfully. Althea let go of her wrist and allowed her to apply the lipstick. Both women knew it wasn't something she could promise and be able to keep it. A silence fell over them except for the few pops of Althea's lips. Paprika took a dress bag off the rack, and inside was one of the most beautiful dresses she'd ever seen.
The most prominent aspect was that of the biggest and fluffiest skirt she would ever wear. Underlying tulle layers of blue tucked beneath deep navy and reminded her of the blue light of energy against the night sky at home. Paprika had captured the colors so perfectly, Althea could've cried if she wasn't scared of messing up her makeup.
Paprika helped her navigate her way into the dress. Althea had expected to feel weighed down by the copious amounts of fabric, but she should've known better. The fabric felt like she was being kissed by clouds. She could never be surprised at how well the dress fit her body — everything Paprika made always fit to perfection. Althea smoothed her hands over the belt at her waist and did a little twirl. The skirt floated through the air, a mirage as she spun. If she hadn't been less than a day from possible death, she could've giggled like a child and pretended she was a princess.
"I love it, Pap. Thank you," she said softly. Paprika tried to smile, but she couldn't seem to pull through. Althea folded their hands together and squeezed firmly.
"I want you to know you're the best friend I've ever had," Paprika blurted, staring at their conjoined hands.
Althea smiled, but felt a knife twist itself in her stomach. Pap's words make her want to curl up in a ball and cry. "An honor I'll carry with me always."
Someone knocked a few times before walking away. Pap glanced at the clock and sighed. Without another word, she lead Althea to where the other tributes waited for their interviews.
For someone who dressed herself so impeccably, Delta had an interesting way of portraying her stylishness on other people. Finnick had yet to see her as he conversed intensely with Mags, so Althea had time to observe him openly.
His chest was perfectly exposed—
Before she could bring herself to continue admiring him, he brain lingered on that word. Exposed.
The Capitol always left Finnick exposed.
"What's gotcha cranky, gorgeous?" Thatcher's voice caught Finnick's attention, but Althea turned before she could be caught staring. Thatcher was handsome as always. His silk shirt and hair were scandalously tousled. The blue of the silk matched the lightest shade in her dress, and he wore plain black slacks and shoes. It was simple, it was sexy, and it was elegant.
It was Thatcher.
"Were you talking to yourself again?"
"Aha! I knew you think I'm gorgeous!"
Althea rolled her eyes playfully, anxiety rolling away from her. "Yes, Thatcher. We all know you're a stunning specimen."
His eyes sparkled like gemstones. Leaning forward, he dropped his voice. "Which is why that baby is going to be absolutely beautiful." She laughed, but it died when his gaze traveled over her shoulder and hardened.
"What?" She whispered, slightly scared to turn around.
"I think Fishboy heard me," he muttered. Althea looked over her shoulder to see Finnick staring blankly at the screen while clenching and unclenching his fists. Althea sighed before speaking again.
"Well, she's lucky to have such a pretty mama, too. Willow has had all the boys swooning for years." Not that she needed to defend herself, but Finnick liked to jump to conclusions and would probably assume that she was the pregnant one.
His eyes shifted hers and his jaw tightened while his fists relaxed. The relief she felt only served to twist the ever present knife in her stomach.
"Boys? Please. Willow won't let a boy come within ten feet of that child," Thatcher laughed, but she could feel the sadness radiating from him. He wanted to be the one to protect his daughter from little boys.
Finnick still held her gaze. His beautiful eyes were masked, but the question behind them was evident to her.
Why did you shut me out?
"And our very own golden boy from District Four — Finnick Odair!"
She was the first to look away.

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