Playing With Fire (A Hunger Games fanfic)

Chapter 5: Burning Secrets

Electra's POV:
After the opening ceremonies, we all gathered together in the screening room to watch the interviews.

But my father knew something was going on, and he wasted no time in confronting me.

"What the hell happened out there?" he asked angrily. "You had one chance to impress your sponsors and you blew it!"

"I didn't blow anything!" I shouted. "Caesar asked me if I was seeing anyone and I answered in the only way I knew how."

"And so you settled for utter stupidity?" he asked.

"It wasn't stupid! And if you were so worried about it then what should I have said?" I was seething with anger.

"Preferably something intelligent. Look around you! Do you have any idea how much is at stake here?" he roared, nearly closing the distance between us.

His face was flushed a bright shade of crimson, his brow furrowed and the muscles in his jaw were clenched.

There was no doubt in my mind, he was furious.

"You don't even know what I'm going through!" I shouted.

"Ah, that's where you're wrong," he retorted. "Clearly what you are 'going through' is a psychotic break!" he shouted, raising his fingers to form air quotes.

With his gaze now downcast, he shook his head, his fingers pinching the point between his eyes as they weld shut. He muttered beneath his breath, and his words stung like the bite of a serpent. "I should've known. I should've never allowed this to happen. This is something far beyond your reach, a task you are completely incapable of handling on your own."

I glared at him. "You seriously think I have no chance at all?" I asked. "I'm fighting like hell to get back home."

"YOU HAVE NO HOME!"

"What about District 12?" I asked. "What about Katniss and Gale?"

He rolled his eyes. "What about them? As far as I'm concerned, you have one purpose and one purpose only. That is to protect your own hide, and if other bodies are beaten and bloody then so be it!"

I storm off, nearly in tears as Peeta follows me. "Hey, what was all that about?" he asked.

I stayed silent, still seething with anger for my father. How dare he treat me like a little kid?

"He doesn't love you," he hissed. "Did you honestly think me so blind that I wouldn't notice? You have no home. Not here, and not with him. It would do you well to remember that."

"Electra, what is he talking about?" he asked. "Who?"

I sighed heavily, fighting like hell to swallow the burning lump that had been caught in my throat.

I could feel Peeta's gaze affixed upon me, albeit I seldom possessed the strength to meet his own.

My voice was nothing more than a strangled murmur, a hoarse croak amidst my erratic emotions. My vision blurred as the tears threatened to fall down my cheeks.

Was he right? Was I truly alone? Without a home, without a soul?

I drew a shaky breath in an effort to calm my raging emotions and whispered, "Meet me on the roof."

A short time later, we emerge into the night air.

The swirling vortex within me had now subsided, and I found myself strangely thankful. As it was, I was unsure just how much more stress my heart could take.

Peeta stood beside me, his gaze still fixed upon me, although it had changed dramatically. I no longer felt compelled to meet it. It wasn't full of anger and shock, but rather concern and empathy.

I shivered as I felt the soft pads of his fingers gently begin to draw soft circles on the skin between my shoulder blades.

The sensation that ran through my body was unexpected, albeit calming and peaceful. I let my weary eyes fall shut as I expelled a heavy sigh that I hadn't realized that I'd been withholding.

"Talk to me! Please!" Peeta's voice was practically begging now, pleading with me to elicit some form of trust.

Deep inside, I laughed. He didn't have to beg, at least not with me.

"Peeta, I can't die!" I shouted. "I have to fight like hell to come back to him!"

His grasp was firm, yet gentle as he grabbed ahold of my shoulders, forcing me to look at him.

For the life of me I couldn't say why, although I suddenly felt afraid.

As he brought both hands up to cup my face, I knew I couldn't look away, not anymore. Our gaze met, his eyes pleading with my own. "Electra please look at me!" he pleaded, his tone firm and unyielding. "Who? Who is he?"

It takes everything in me to admit this to anyone, even him. I take a deep breath and speak. "Cinna."