Inhale

We’re arranged, as per Naloh’s desires to watch the Reapings. I wouldn’t have come to dinner if Finnick hadn’t forced me and the food is churning in my stomach. I’m not sure whether I’m thankful or not that he’s made me aware of the requests that may come. At least knowing I won’t be surprised if something is said, it gives me far longer to think of an excuse to avoid it. I have to avoid it, whatever may be threatened.

Mags and Finnick are here, they can’t hurt them. I’ve told myself Thom and the rest of my family are safe about a thousand times in the last few hours but it hasn’t settled me.

Finnick regrets bringing it up. That’s clear as day. Our talk finished uneasily, with promises I knew we would both do as much as possible to keep. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, my mind in meltdown trying to work out what element to be most terrified of.

Mags clumsily pats my shoulder and I smile, curling up tighter around the cushion I’m holding. Finnick and Naloh are chatting about something irrelevant but his hand keeps stroking mine out of sight. “Ah, finally, here we are!” Naloh turns the volume up and we all give the holographic images our full attention. It’s as bad as I could imagine, Cashmere and Gloss are plucked from the large glass bowl and I wait for someone to volunteer. There’s an odd bloodlust with many victors from District One but surely they cannot have the brother and sister in the same games? Fighting together until it becomes too late and they have to turn.

Mags shakes her head but Naloh is on the edge of his seat with an excited sense of glee. “How positively heartbreaking! But so brave of them both.” I want to throw up but I keep myself in my place watching the rest of the District's pass.

Some are no surprise, Brutus from District Two volunteers, Wiress from District Three can barely make it to the stage, she is shaking so pitifully it’s painful to watch.

Naloh makes the odd comment; with the third District, he looks vastly impressed. “Ah, Beetee.” I was almost shocked he knew his name, I was aware of it from reputation alone. “Very, very intelligent,” Naloh muses, speaking over the introduction to our District, “You know how Beetee won his?” No-one responds verbally but I offer a shrug, I have an idea, “He set up a trap, electrocuted and killed a bunch of tributes at once, very smart that one.” If I suspected Naloh had an ounce of humanity I’d think he was hinting but instantly as we all appear on the screen he comments on my poor posture and worries his forehead looked a little wrinkled.

The stiffness that had been building in Finnick’s shoulders drops a little as we watch ourselves get reaped. It looks like true concern on my part and I’m glad I don’t look utterly terrified. Nowhere near as confident or collected as Finnick; no-one would expect any different but he seems glad at how we come across and his arm, sprawled across the back of the couch relaxes.

I recognise every single one whose name is called in some way. There are only fifty-three victors left alive and when I was younger I was able to recite those up until that year. Lower down in schooling we were taught a lot about the games themselves, it was how we had ended up with volunteers every few years and had gotten ourselves lumped in with the other Career Districts.

I suppose I hadn’t helped that, and we’d talked poor Tali the previous year into using a similar strategy.

In some Districts' there are only two or three Victors so there is far less drama; Johanna from District Seven is the only female and she lunges forward, her face dark and hard. She’s a friend of Finnick's, or at least as close to being friends as it seems she allows. As people step forward I try to work out any pattern, are others going into the arena with the same mission as Finnick? Have other people purposefully put their lives on the line? There’s no way I can think of to hint at the chance of this and I can’t spot anything unusual.

Naloh only truly reacts when we reach the final set of Reapings and Katniss, again alone on stage is called. Effie Trinket, now the hottest party ticket in the Capitol, calls Haymitch’s name and I feel all of us in the carriage hold our breath for a moment until Peeta volunteers. “To keep her safe!” Naloh practically swoons, “To try again.”

“No chance of two winners this year.” Finnick reminds him, and even he can’t stop his voice from dripping with scorn. Naloh doesn’t seem to notice, “Oh Effie’s face!” I’m not sure what exactly he is seeing considering he is so happy but that’s the opposite of what is on their escorts face. She looks pained, upset even. The thought of Naloh getting upset over any of us is alien. He excuses himself instantly afterwards, practically floating with excitement into a different part of the train. “Look at her.” Katniss is on the screen as part of the recap, the media doing their best to ensure her and Peeta are the main focus. “Peeta will be a lot easier to get on side.”

“Obviously.” I hadn’t paid much attention to Katniss until it was too late and she’d dropped a hive of tracker-jackers. It was hard not to feel bitter when I remembered the way Tali had screamed and writhed as the venom bored into her. I blink hard to rid myself of the images.

“He’s our way in then,” Finnick says simply, dropping the conversation when Naloh reappears.

The only difference that’s visible so far in the training centre is the decoration on our floor. Our avox’s are the same and I remember suddenly how much I hate looking at them. I know full well there was nothing I can do but guilt stuck whenever they had to offer me something. I excused myself to bed as soon as we were there, turning down the celebratory champagne.

My room is untouched. I hate that, Seneca preferred to come up here sometimes, it was far more private and there are touches of him over everything. A pair of earrings still sit on the bedside table, there’s a picture he loved on the opposite wall. I don’t want to sleep in here.

I change into some pyjamas, suddenly sweating and sitting down on the edge of the bed, even detesting the gleaming silk cover. I rotate between sitting and wandering around, I turn up the air conditioning until I’m freezing and then I turn it back off. I request water and some sleeping pills but leave the tablets next to the earrings. I end up fiddling with them, able to recall exactly when he had given them to me. It was just after I’d done my best to convince him of Haymitch’s scheme. If I had never done that the blonde boy from District Two probably would have won and none of this would be happening.

I’d barely spoken to Haymitch before but he’d cornered me suddenly, spouting this genius idea of how the Game Makers should try and set up teams, play up the romance between his two tributes and increase interest in a Games where it was starting to wane. He’d always aimed for Katniss. You had too, you had to pick whoever you thought had the best chance. Haymitch had no idea how it would and did end.

I see Tali’s swollen face again and I know I’ve done all the time in here I can. Naloh should be far too intoxicated by now to notice me sneaking into Finnick’s room and I need any sense of comfort I can get from him. Finnick and Mags are the only good things within a thousand miles of here. I’m lucky for that, but the days are sliding away and I can’t stop them.

I left Finnick’s room before the sun had risen, giving me plenty of time to shower and wait for the swelling of my lips to reside. They still tingled deliciously. I was focusing on those parts of the night when my skin had been on fire and his limbs had been twisted with mine. The alternative was the broken slices of sleep, and my dreams warped into losing Tyger, losing Luka, whilst Enobaria laughed, her teeth glinting until they were all I could see.

I don’t think either of us slept well and I regretted in part not taking the sleeping pills but the rapid knocks on the door catch my attention and I try to shove the previous night into the back of my mind. They all enter in a splash of conflicting colour, instantly attacking the state of my hair, my nails.

My prep team hadn’t changed, not in the five years since the two eldest of them, Blithe and Margy had first exclaimed over the number of split ends I had and my poor posture. Trix was younger and had only been with us since the last Games. She took a chance whilst the other two were setting up to whisper to me how horrid she felt. Her feelings clearly didn’t affect her too much considering the previous year she’d been practically manic with excitement.

I let them keep up a familiar light chatter, telling me about certain parties they had been too, some of the scandalous gossip they had overheard. None of them mentioned Seneca, I’d bet anything that they’d been threatened against that. Was that what Snow intended? We all pretend he had never existed?

Ever so often a hint of caring broke through their superficial nature.

“Both so young and loved.” Blithe whined, “You, and poor Finnick.” Even with the tributes each year I still managed to get stuck with the prep-team often. Several large-scale events happened during the Games, and most of the time Seneca had dragged me along. I was more familiar with each of them then I think I would like. “That would be Finnick,” I corrected, my head heavy with a large amount of product softening it, “being loved.” She waved me off and I could tell she was close to mentioning exactly who she couldn’t because of the way she slammed her overly plumped lips shut.

They took over two hours to prepare me properly for Luine. I'm waxed, plucked, preened and slathered in about five different liquids. I thought I had kept myself in fairly good condition but body hair is criminal and they were so used to having to make every inch of me as appealing as possible I suppose that habit was hard to break.

“You really need to stop biting your nails,” Margy complains, digging into her massive box and pulling out a familiar and foul-smelling polish. It helped to repair the nail and encourage growth, so within an hour or so there would be no evidence of where my teeth had shredded. “This will stop them from cracking in training as well.” She grins, for her this was just another year. Blithe snaps at her, feeling melodramatic and returning to her woeful speech, “And then Katniss and Peeta, engaged but now no wedding!”

“I’m sure that’s the last thing they’re worried about.” They all look a little surprised but within a couple of minutes they’ve shaken it off and normal duty returns. I’m relieved by the time they were ready to go, Blithe and Trix both managing a few words although I would see them before the interviews in a few days, the latter clasping at my hand before they left. Luine emerged from the lift as soon as they had gone, her overpowering perfume twisting my already anxious stomach.

“You can eat first, but nothing heavy that will bloat you. Have Finnick’s team been yet?” I shrug, the boys never took as long, a shave and base of make-up were about all they needed and Finnick was so beautiful touching him up too much was practically a sin.

“Well, hopefully, they won’t be too late.” She muses, delicately eating a thin piece of bread and pate, “I've got two dresses, similar to what Marck has planned but also...” She waves her hand, “We’ll see, and I’m still not sure what to do with your hair.”

“Whatever you think,” I say, just to stop her chatter, watching as Finnick’s team finally arrived, in and out before we had finished. He eventually emerges, smiling, shorts low on his hips as if to spite me. I struggle to keep my eyes off him, as did Luine. “Well, off we go to get changed. Marck should be here soon for you.” She points at him, eyes trailing, making me want to glare at her, “Come on Elenia, let’s stop bothering Finnick.” I grimace on my way past him, he grins widely at my expression. It doesn't hide that he looks tired under the thin layer of foundation.

Luine wastes no time in getting to work, setting my curls until they're large and drift over my shoulders. Make-up came next and although I didn’t see it until after I knew she was going for a very classical look. She’d stopped doing heavy make-up on me, claiming I was better to just let my eyes stand out naturally. I knew it was because certain people had preferred me looking less done up. Even so, she spent a while making my cheekbones catch the light and accentuating my eyes with lashings of mascara and eyeliner.

“Simple. I want everyone to recognise you. We’re not hiding this year.” The statement strikes me as odd but she scolds me for the way my brow furrows and checks my nail colour before nodding, satisfied it matched. She clicks her tongue and I notice a new addition to her teeth, a glittering blue gem on an incisor. “Just the dress and shoes. I have accessories picked out already. But then, actually... “ She slips around me and to my bedside table, scooping up the earrings I’d been playing with the previous evening. A gift from Seneca Crane.

She catches the look on my face. “Never underestimate loyalty.” She wants to say more but purses her dark lips instead and reverts back to her usual airheaded self, “Besides, no-one will know and they’re beautiful.” She slides them into my ears, pushing back my hair so at least one will show. I can’t work out her reasoning. She leaves for a moment and I find my fingers tracing the pearls again. Loyalty to whom?

She’s back before I can ponder further but I’m glad for the distraction. She watches as I strip and place on the nude underwear she shoves at me. I'm numb to being naked in front of her. “You’ve put on weight.” She comments, eyes scouring, “Good.” I take a look at the rail she’s dragged in; seems both outfits show a fair amount of flesh but one seemed to be nothing but a mixture of netting and shells that would leave almost everything bare.

Luine sees my face, “Fine. I was expecting that. Outfit number two then and no arguments.” For once I don’t have any. She helps me shuffle into a long gown, it's a blush colour, embroidered with shells, pearls and flowers. I wasn't going to be a fisherman, I was the ocean itself. She adjusts my cleavage and makes me swirl so that the train drags behind me.

“It’s beautiful Luine.” She beams, helping me slip on her selected shoes and another ring she produces with a diamond twisted in gold.

“Okay. That will certainly do, look!” She pushes me towards the full-length mirror and I have to admire the view. I feel beautiful, which is rare and there’s a flood of confidence. Luine has done well, the perfect mixture of being covered but remaining sexual. There’s a knock on the door, Luine drags her eyes from me with an uncomfortable expression. She is genuinely upset about the turn of events.

“Just coming Marck.” She calls, doing her last second adjustments and opening the door for me. “Make sure you’re careful when you walk, do not catch the train.” I nod, and we meet the others in the living area. Mags in a simple, emerald green dress. The prep team probably visited her briefly but as ever I was their centre of attention. Marck draws Luine away and I try to avoid my eyes lingering on Finnick too long.

He’s pretty much naked, which by now shouldn't be something that phases me. I’m just trying to keep myself from blushing too deeply. “Luine had something like that for me.” I manage. He rolls his eyes before they simply devour me. I can’t fight back a flush and the butterflies in my stomach are for a completely different reason.

It’s hard to stand here, a couple of metres apart when I want nothing more than to run my hands over his bare torso and feel his skin against mine. I lose myself a little in my fantasy, Finnick loves undressing me, he always does it so slowly; cruelly, so his fingertips tickle across me and he can press his lips to the exposed skin as he slips the fabric down. I can practically feel him, he’d start with the bow around my waist, unlooping it so his chest was against my back.

Mags clears her throat loudly and I feel my eyes widen as Luine links her arm with my own. I’m far too hot and simply embarrassed so I let her steer me into the elevator first, snapping at Marck when he almost treads on my dress. She smiles at me, and again I get the sense she knows more than she’s letting on. “Doesn’t she look beautiful Finnick?”

He clears his throat before he answers. He looks uncomfortable which oddly makes me grin. Holds my gaze as he answers. “Devastatingly.”