Serious - Titan

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Titan

"I bet you think I'm stupid, don't you?"

"Hmm?" Sylvester looks up from whatever it is he's doing and tilts his head sideways, even though he's got a reasonable view of me anyway. "No."

"Serious?"

He nods. The two of us are inside the Cornucopia; Thalia is on guard outside while Columbia and Caitlin have gone on a bathroom break. Sylvester has been charged with counting everything, which is fair enough except he's been doing it since morning and it's now getting on for midnight. The two pictures will be going up in the sky soon. And he's still counting, repeating his earlier checks, going over all the stock, mouthing the numbers to himself as if his life depends on it. This is the first time anybody has managed to get him to say anything else. I narrow my eyes at him in case there's any hint that he's lying - it wouldn't be the first time someone has lied to protect my ego, as if it needs protecting in the first place - but his face shows nothing but honesty.

"Serious. She's..." He drops the rope he's knotting - why? - and makes a vague womanish shape in the air with his enormous hands. If it was anybody else I'd guffaw and nudge them and perhaps wink a bit too but this is Sylvester and I don't doubt that he means it innocently.

I wouldn't know how else to describe her either. Pretty isn't right. Striking doesn't explain it.

"Stunning?" I offer.

"Yep," he says, suddenly flashing into life and raising an eyebrow at me. "It's a hormone thing, isn't it? Sex and death...there's a link, people say." His cheeks flare up red even in the darkness. "So basically, it's not your fault." Piece said, he turns back to the rope. One knot. Two knots. Three knots...

Three knots and I can't cope with the silence anymore. My muscles ache with the effort of constantly trying to arrange myself so I look as attractive as possible for the cameras. I used to hate not being watched, not having to think about this sort of thing. I thought the only time that was worth anything was the time in the spotlight. After only one full day in the arena, I'm starting to think I must have been mad.

Imagine it! Titan Illiant, bored! In front of everybody!

I throw myself down onto a crate that I think contains bottle after bottle of water, hands behind my head, limbs splayed just enough to show off my torso, and...

No. I curl myself up. Sylvester watches this process with a distant curiosity and then goes back to counting. He might be okay with this stillness but it's driving me insane. Correction: it's one of the things driving me insane. I can't stand having nothing to do, nobody to talk to, no appointments to keep.

"Are you jealous?" I ask.

He gives off a deep rumbling sound which it takes me a second to work out is a laugh and my ego prickles. Feeling unkind, I make a mental note that his fluffy eyebrows are already starting to grow back in and it looks stupid. Then I try to tell myself that I'm not thinking this because he's possibly the only tribute in this whole arena who is more bulked-up than me. He passes the rope through his hands again and slaps his hands down onto his thighs.

"Of you?" he says, mouth pursed as he thinks it through. When Sylvester thinks it's as if everything else in his body has to stop first. I've pretended to be that clueless a few times, because there's always some dippy girls who love it, but it's not one of my favorites. I prefer the cocky, arrogant personality. It's more...me. But Sylvester looks like any kind of acting is beyond him. He finishes thinking and grins at me. "You and Columbia? Serious? Nah."

Remembering Gina, the way she floored me a few minutes before the first time I kissed Columbia, I add, "Prefer boys?"

Another pause for consideration. "Nah."

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