Rue Outfit Hunger Games Novels & Stories

I dressed in a sky-blue ball gown next and even with it making me have the looks of a fairytale princess, those two ladies were still not pleased. "What exactly do you both want?" I grunted in frustration. "The perfect outfit for you" Rue returned and I sent her a hard glare. "All the clothes I've been trying on look perfect on me. They fit like they were personally made for me, so why can't you girls make a choice already and save me this stress" I whined. Rue's phone pinged with a notification and she exchanged glances with Amy, my eyes narrowed at them in suspicion. "Now that I see it, the both of you are up to something, aren't you?"

Rhea’s POV This morning, my face in the glass didn’t feel familiar at all. Earlier, Helen placed an outfit across the bed, a sharp blue jacket, a silky top that seemed far too fine to touch, and a skirt ending right above the knee. Truth is, none of it matched who I am. Wearing trousers suits me better, yet there was little choice. All these items were bought by Leon. Yet somehow, wearing this clothes makes me think less of presents, more of fancy jail gear.

Who exactly was that woman? Julian had even left without his wheelchair. When Julian reached the elevator lobby, he wasn't expecting much. Then he saw her. The familiar figure stood beneath the sunlight streaming through the windows. A slight frown creased her delicate brows, and concern lingered on her calm face. Rue wore a simple white linen dress and carried a canvas backpack. The sunlight cast a soft glow around her, making her fair skin appear almost luminous. Her outfit was plain, yet somehow she wore it with the effortless elegance of custom couture.

“I’m ready to impress a crowd,” Rue stood down there with a bright smile. “You look splendid,” “So do you,” she was wearing a black turtleneck top with a pair of black jeans with embellished crystals and rhinestones. She looked like a 90s punk rock kid and it really suited her. “Come on then. Let’s go, we’ll see you later uncle Kieran,” “Oh,” his dad ran to him and wrapped his neck in a warm red woolen scarf. “See you later Rue. Take good care of my son.”

Not ever. Rugien stood in the middle of the hall while all our eyes were fixed on him. He wore his princely clothes this time. It was composed of deep blue long sleeved cloth that looked crisp and adorned with different colored small medals and perfectly creased pants. He looked very attractive in it, and my heart pumped so hard against my rib cage. His eyes settled on my face before he looked at Frith with probing eyes. “Well, won’t anyone answer me?” His hands were shoved deep into his front pockets.

I ask and she nods without a beat. “You really did have the white chiffon top on yesterday.” Rue says all of a sudden, cutting my conversation with Melanie short. Rue looks at Asher and gasps "I remember telling you I wanted the skirt for myself and also her necklace. She was putting on a white chiffon, black leather skirt and even the bag.” I felt relief course through my veins as Rue describes her. No way to run away to now. “That’s true. Aaron described your outfit.” Asher inputs.

Rue walked forward slowly, carrying a quiet emotional weight that only I could recognize in her posture. She wore a ceremonial white-gold gown embroidered with faint wolf sigil patterns that shimmered when she moved. Around her neck rested her father’s ashes pendant. She was not walking alone, Cole stood beside her. Cole was smiling widely, as always, his grip on Rue’s arm protective. When they reached the halfway point of the aisle, he stopped then looked at me. He placed Rue’s hand in mine and then stepped back. Taking the place that once belonged to King Cyrus. Rue was magically beautiful and ethereal. She looked more like a Luna from fictional movies than one who was to stand beside me

I hunched forward, my hand pressing tight against the wound as I cursed under my breath. Worth it. I'd wait all night if I had to. I perked up when I saw her. Rue. She was wearing a large pink hoodie that drowned her frame, with a short skirt flashing just enough thigh above those black boots. It was casual and lethal. She strolled inside, oblivious. I sat there, breathing like a dying man, watching the way her hood slipped off her head when she bent to grab something from the lower shelf. Minutes later she walked out with a plastic bag swinging from her hand, but she looked annoyed.

Genevieve: As expected, Kit was waiting at the exit, ready to go by the minute Ron and I woke up. I had on black pants and a black leather top with a red jacket, while Ron wore black pants and a white shirt. Kit, however, was dressed in a stunning blue dress. Her hair was curled and adorned with flower crowns. It wasn't that she didn't know how to dress appropriately for the occasion--she had seen her father give lectures on attire in the woods. But she simply ignored them because she wanted to look like a princess.

A female attendant began drawing a bath, scenting the water with oils that smelled of lavender and eucalyptus. As Raya stripped off her ruined clothes, she caught a glimpse of herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. She looked like a ghost. Her ribs were starting to show, her eyes were sunken, and the marks of poverty were etched into her skin. She looked at the military jacket Jin had given her, lying discarded on the floor. It was heavy, masculine, and carried that same intoxicating scent of bourbon and gunpowder.