THE HUNGER GAMES: the taste of Whiskey and Snow // CORIOLANUS SNOW

Seventeen

"Consider yourself lucky. The animal would probably have pounced on you by now."

The little flame that had been lit for a few days now in Whiskey's heart that she was scared to admit existed was punched so hard it fell out of the back of her soul. She was just strategy. Every moment of friendship, every laugh, every small feeling of more, was all manipulation for his strategy. How far did his strategy go? Where was the line? Was it all strategy? Every interaction they'd ever had? Her cheeks went bright red with embarrassment, despite knowing nobody could see her. She was starting to think he was a nice guy. She was actually starting to believe that he thought so too about her. Yet somehow she'd forgotten that she was a tribute and he was a mentor. It was stupid to allow herself to think they were anything more than strategy.

Whiskey was too distracted to listen to the rest of the conversation. She spent a minute or two recovering and convincing herself it was fine. Suddenly, Snow appeared in front of her.

"Sorry about her," he rolled his eyes. "Nobody saw you did they?"

Whiskey frowned, unable to fight her disappointment and hurt. "Of course not I'm not an idiot," she hissed.

This surprised Snow and he stopped for a second, frowning. "I never said you were an idiot. You're quite the opposite," he acted confused.

"Whatever," She sighed, walking towards the door.

He let them into their room and closed the door behind them, Coriolanus locking it. Whiskey walked straight to the dark window, sulking, hoping she could see something. In the courtyard, Highbottom and scary woman in red clothes that she didn't recognised talked in a secretive manner. It peaked her interested but she refused to tell Coriolanus about it. She was in no mood to talk to him.

Coriolanus paused, his coat slung over his arm. "I need to make sure Tigris and Grandmam are okay," he thought out loud. "What if they're in danger?"

Whiskey ignored him. This made Coriolanus frown. Usually, she was a chirpy person, yet she was acting like a real bitch. Obviously something had happened on the way to their room because she was acting fine in the street.

"I'll check on them tomorrow because I'm not allowed to leave you unattended," he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. Whiskey stayed silent, looking out the window. Coriolanus rolled his eyes and made his way to the bathroom to wash himself off and go to bed.

In the mirror he could see the bags forming under his eyes. It was late at night now, later than he usually was awake, and he could feel his stomach growling. He would usually go down to find some food to steal for his cousin and grandma after dinner, but tonight he had been preoccupied by Everdeen.

He glanced at Everdeen through the reflection of the mirror and saw she still hadn't moved. He took a moment to watch her. He wasn't sure of his motivations except that he knew he wouldn't be able to look at her much longer. The Hunger Games were tomorrow evening and despite the tributes running loose, he knew the games maker would do everything in her power to continue them.

His eyes travelled over her shoulders and legs, noticing how slender and toned they were from climbing trees in district 12, something most woman in the capital didn't have. He liked how they looked on her, just like how he liked her hands. He noticed how the frown in her face created a small crease on her cheeks and how her nose looked perfect from the angle she was on. The more he stared, the more beauty he saw. This realisation made him drop his head, he needed to stop staring.

By the time he re-entered the room, Whiskey had resulted to sitting on the bed, being too tired to stand. He could see in her eyes that was thinking the same thing he realised when he agreed to have her stay. There was no couch or spare bed in this room. They were going to have to share different sides of the bed.

As Coriolanus climbed into his side of the mattress, he noticed Whiskey twisting her wrists in pain. A red mark was starting to form under her chain. Not only that, there was no way she could sleep in them comfortably.

Without a word, he moved and slowly sat next to her, taking her hands in his. She studied his face, trying to figure out what he was doing, but he kept his eyes down. He grabbed the key from his pocket and unlocked her chains, clicking them off. He could feel the relief the second they clinked to the floor. "Please don't choke me in me sleep."

"Why would you do that," Whiskey ignored his light joke. She was growing to understand Snow's personality, meaning she was growing to understanding he didn't do anything unless he had some personal gain from it. Taking off her chains had more risk than gain for him.

"I trust you," he whispered, holding her hands still. For a while, neither one of them moved. They stayed, holding each others hands, knowing one was a mentor and one was a tribute.

Finally, Whiskey was the one that moved. She stood up, looking down at her electric taser on her ankle, stopping her from running. Free but not quite. Without speaking, she climbed into the other side of the bed and turned away from him. In her pocket, she felt the sharp butter knife she'd stolen from the drawer when Coriolanus wasn't looking.

"Goodnight, Coriolanus," she whispered.

"Goodnight, Whiskey," he replied.