Chapter XXXI

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Garnett could not stop staring at the ring on your finger. You hadn't paid much attention to him this morning as you were far too busy rehearsing your speech. It wasn't lengthy by any means, but Coriolanus had helped you write it last night.

You mainly talked about what the games meant to you and how Garnett embodied what it meant to be a Victor. Though Coriolanus wasn't enthused to see you write of Garnett in such a positive manner, it wasn't his speech to write; it was yours.

At least a dozen people busied themselves around you, throwing together decorations, racing to put up banners, and, of course, preparing Garnett for viewing. He didn't look enthusiastic as he sat beside you, his eyes refusing to waver from the diamond on your ring finger.

"I take it he popped the question," Garnett scoffed. "Didn't think that was going to happen."

His snide comment snapped you out of your laser focus, drawing your attention. "It was nothing like that," you protested. "The ring was only a gift, not a proposal."

He rolled his eyes. "That's what you think," he gritted his teeth as his hand gestured in Coriolanus's direction. "He's been staring at you the entire time I've been beside you. It's embarrassing that he feels so threatened by someone from the Districts."

You smacked your paper against your knees, turning your body to look at Garnett. "You did profess your love for me in front of thousands. He has a right to feel threatened."

"Hardly," Garnett snapped. "People say many things when they're about to enter that arena. At least what I said got me out with just a scratch."

Your heart cracked at his tone of voice and by the words he spoke. Maybe he didn't have to hear of your suggestions. Garnett had grown to hate you on his own just by knowing you outside of the games.

Perhaps the forced proximity drew him to you. He probably never received the kind of attention you gave him before, especially someone from the Capitol. A peacekeeper shot his best friend, for god's sake!

When he returned home from the games, his District was probably ashamed of him, maybe even hated them him selves. For what person of District blood could ever love someone born of Capitol? You wondered how Lucy Gray managed to as well.

"So you're saying you lied?" you questioned him, unaware of the pain on your face.

Garnett tried to keep himself composed, turning away from you as a woman rushed over with a bottle of foundation to see if it matched his skin tone. "I'm not saying anything," he whispered. "He's still looking at me. I don't want to end up dead."

You turned around to see Coriolanus locked on both of you. Upon seeing your attention, he pretends to busy himself with preparations. Had Coriolanus said something to Garnett? Was that why he was acting so strange?

"Garnett," you whispered, keeping your vision away from him so Coriolanus did not suspect a thing. "We need to go somewhere private."

"No way," he answered immediately. "That would be more of a death sentence than throwing myself in another arena."

Your voice became a wounded plea. "Garnett," you protested. "I need to talk to you. Please, I can't let you leave me with hatred in your heart."

He huffed with protest but knew deep down he couldn't fight your begs. With a careful eye on Coriolanus, you two snuck into a private bathroom and locked the door.

Garnett was still full of anxiety as the lock clicked. "If he saw us come in here, I'm done for." He was genuinely terrified, like he knew Coriolanus would murder him if he took even a small step toward you.

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