Nothing Personal

Sponsors - 11

Morning dawned on the arena, the sun hiding behind murky grey clouds. Inside the golden Cornucopia, still partially littered with scraps of food and useless weapons, Megan stirred. Her legs felt like they'd detatched themselves and gone off for a walk during the night. Vedran was asleep, his head on her shoulder. With his eyes closed he looked different. More peaceful. It was strange how that happened. Did her face betray her when she slept?

He had an arm around her shoulder. She instinctively moved to shrug it off, but she was actually quite comfortable. She'd never felt comfortable around anyone in years.

And here, of all places, to start.

They'd been around each other constantly for almost a week and yet he hadn't annoyed her once. He understood, she reckoned that was it. He believed her. He was the only person in the district who believed her. He hadn't given up on her when she'd been cold to him.

He muttered something in his sleep, frowning. Whatever he was dreaming, it wasn't nice. The fog of her dream hovered at the edges of her mind, her father, her mother cradling a baby. It wasn't a good dream. It wasn't a bad one either. Every time she nearly pinned down more, it danced away, out of her reach. There was just her mother and father and the baby, watching her impassively. Vedran would have recognised the expression on her mother's face; it was Megan's blank face, right down to the tiniest detail.

"No..." he whimpered, his grip on her shoulder tightening. She put a hand on it absently and murmured, "It's okay, it's not real."

After a pause, she added to herself, "Real life is much worse."

"Megan?" he muttered into her shoulder. His breath tickled. She found herself wondering; her mind always did wander early in the morning. He'd never mentioned a girlfriend - he'd never mentioned anyone except his parents - but that didn't mean he didn't have one. Had she seen him like this; asleep, vulnerable?

"I'm here," she replied, pushing her thoughts in another direction. She was good at that. He opened his eyes, looking up at her. They were deep brown and twinkled. How cliche, she thought. She reckoned if she looked hard enough she would be able to see what he'd been dreaming, but all she saw were flickers of fear. They vanished as soon as she realised that she was looking into his eyes. Also cliche.

"You don't need to try be brave in front of me, you know," he whispered, sounding vaguely amused. She shook her head to clear it, looking down at him. He was very close and it made her uncomfortable. Or comfortable. Either way, she wasn't used to it.

"I'm not trying," she retorted. He just smiled at her; of course you aren't. It was unsettling, like he was just seeing straight through her again. She shrugged his arm off her shoulder. "I'm going outside," she snapped brusquely, though she knew her tone wouldn't fool him, "I'll be back soon."

With that, she swept out of the Cornucopia, putting her blank face back on.

Vedran watched her go, before dropping his face into his hands.

Crete had no idea where he was. Somehow he'd ended up at the edge of town and couldn't go any further; every time he tried he got an electric shock. He was used to them from home, but it was still weird. He was sure he'd only been running less than half an hour, which meant that the arena was very small. In the dark it had been hard to see what was outside the bounds, but now it was clear to see. Just fields, stretching over the hills, with the occasional clump of trees. It was actually kind of depressing, somehow. Somebody must have lived here, somewhere along the line. So where were they now?

A small pop caught his eager attention and he crawled out from under the tree. He could have climbed it and slept in a fork, but he had been shaking badly and hadn't trusted himself to climb without slipping. And there hadn't seemed to be anyone around, especially not the creepy Sebastian, so he'd assumed that he was safe under the tree. He'd been right too.