"Dahlia Blossom. Don't let the name fool you. She's better known as the Black Dahlia. And she didn't earn that nickname by smiling and looking pretty."
"She sure knows how to perform for the camera."
"Because she knows how to play the game. She alwa...
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Overlooking the cheering crowds of the Capitol, Dahlia was officially crowned the Victor of the 66th Annual Hunger Games by President Snow. In an exquisite black dress covered in shimmering silver gems, she sat on a plush throne with perfect posture and an expressionless face. She rose from the chair as Snow delicately collected the intricate golden crown and turned to her. Dahlia's unnerving eyes never left the wicked man's face as he placed the crown on her dark slicked back hair.
"I really enjoyed the show you gave me." Snow commented with an impassive grin. The man reeked of blood and death. His eyes, cold and calculated.
"I'm so glad." Dahlia replied carefully, no hint of truth lingering in her words. Both of them know this is all just pleasant facades. A simple act put on for the viewers watching on. "My friend gave her life for it."
"And what a noble sacrifice it was." Snow stated as if it was an honour to die in the name of entertainment.
Dahlia quirked a brow, not letting any emotion show. "Noble is one word for it."
"What word would you use, Miss Blossom?" Snow inquired, feigning an interest for what she has to say.
Dahlia gave him a truthful answer, "Unnecessary."
•——————•°•✿•°•——————•
The train journey home brings Dahlia feelings of relief and dread. On one hand, she can't wait to see her family again. On the other hand, she's returning as a different person. The wounds from the Games still endure in her mind. Who knows if she would ever truly heal? She didn't want to become a danger to her sisters. How would they look at her after seeing what she had become?
"We'll be arriving in the next few minutes." Alaric informs the girl as she lays back on the couch. Dahlia just hums in acknowledgement, fingers occupied by fiddling with her necklace. She hears Alaric heave a sigh before her legs are lifted up and plopped back down on his lap. "I know exactly how you are feeling."
"Does it get any easier?" Dahlia asks quietly, gazing up at the ceiling with a faraway gleam in her eyes.
"The truth?" Alaric checks, receiving a reluctant nod in reply. "No... It doesn't get easier. That guilt will stay with you forever."
"If this is your attempt to make me feel better, it's really not working." Dahlia grumbles, softly shoving Alaric's shoulder in annoyance.
"I'm not here to make you feel better. I'm here to be your Mentor." Alaric explains, making Dahlia shoot up in surprise.
With furrowed eyebrows and a confused tone, she points out, "But the Games are over. You're not my Mentor anymore. You've done your job, I made it out alive and now you are finished with mentoring for another year."
