"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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"Games are still on." Alaric announces solemnly as the tributes of the Alliance gather one last time on the roof. Disappointed sighs are exchanged amongst the group, many of whom were hopeful that Peeta's bombshell would be enough to end this nightmare. Unfortunately not. Dahlia sinks into Finnick's chest as he wraps his arms around her body from behind. "That means the plan is put into action tomorrow. Protect the Mockingjay, by any means necessary." Everyone nods in determination, willing to do what it takes to ensure the torch of Rebellion remains lit. "It has been an honour, my friends."
The gathering of tributes begin to disperse, embracing in farewell hugs and wishing each other luck for the struggle ahead. Many of them knew this could be their last time seeing each other and wanted to make the most of their last moments together. Alaric and Haymitch exchange a firm handshake before the District Twelve mentor pulls them into a tight hug.
"Look after yourself in there." Haymitch mutters into his oldest friend's ear, patting him on the back before they separate.
"Don't drink yourself to death without me." Alaric jests with a chuckle, before he spots Dahlia conversing with other tributes out of the corner of his eye. "Take care of my little girl." He pleads desperately, feeling his heart clench in his chest at the thought of losing her. "She's the best part of my life."
Haymitch smiles softly at the pair who managed to find a family in each other. "I doubt she'll need my help. You've raised a strong woman." Haymitch points out, noticing the fond look in Alaric's eyes as he watches Dahlia. "But I'll keep an eye on her."
Alaric nods gratefully to his friend and replies, "Thank you, Haymitch."
"I should go and break the news to my tributes." Haymitch sighs as he backs away, knowing it's not the news they would be hoping for. "Please don't die."
"I'll try my best." Alaric laughs lightly, waving goodbye to his friends as some start to make their way back to their apartments. Feeling like the weight of the world has landed on his shoulders, Alaric leans against the railing with a long exhale of breath. His hands drag their way down his face in exhaustion before raking across his bearded chin. He didn't know how he'd ended up organising a secret rebellion within a Quarter Quell, but the stress was constantly gnawing at his mind. Why did he agree to this?
"Al?"
And there was the answer, the reminder of why he agreed to be involved. Dahlia leans next to him on the railing, staring up at the man with concern shining in her eyes. She was the reason he kept fighting, the reason he was still alive. The reason a smile had instinctually appeared on his face, even in his darkest hour.
Turning to face her, he found the roof to be emptied of tributes, leaving just the two of them to talk. "Yes, Flower?"
"Are you alright?" Dahlia asks anxiously, searching his eyes for any hint that something was amiss.
