『 𝗧𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗘 𝗕𝗨𝗥𝗡 』𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

District 11

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS BLOOD AND DEATH.

------------------------------------------------------

The smell of blood ... it was on his breath.

What does he do? You think. Drink it? You imagine him sipping it from a teacup and your nose scrunches in disgust.

Outside the window, a car comes to life, soft and quiet like the purr of a cat, then fades away into the distance. It slips off as it arrived, unnoticed.

The room seems to be spinning in slow, lopsided circles, and you feel as if you might black out. You lean forward and clutch the desk with one hand. The other still holds Peeta's beautiful cookie. You think it had a tiger lily on it, but now it's been reduced to crumbs in your fist. You didn't even know you were crushing it, but you suppose you had to hold on to something while your world veered out of control.

A visit from President Snow. Districts on the verge of uprisings. A direct death threat to your loved ones, with others to follow. And who knows who else will pay for your actions? Unless you turn things around on this tour. Quiet the discontent and put the president's mind at rest. And how? By proving to the country beyond any shadow of a doubt that you love Peeta Mellark.

Perhaps you'll be able to prove it to Peeta as well. Your mind fills with doubt, I can't do it, You think. I'll mess it up. Peeta's the better one, the likable one. He can make people believe anything. You're the one who shuts up and sits back and lets him do as much of the talking as possible. But it isn't Peeta who has to prove his devotion. It's you. Why can't I just show exactly how I feel?

You hear your aunt's light, quick tread in the hall. She can't know, you think. Not about any of this. You reach your hands over the tray and quickly brush the bits of cookie from your palm and fingers. You take a shaky sip of your tea.

"Is everything all right, Y/n?" she asks warily.

"It's fine. We never see it on television, but the president always visits the victors before the tour to wish them luck," you say brightly.

Your aunt's face floods with relief. "Oh. I thought there was some kind of trouble."

"No, not at all," you say. "The trouble will start when my prep team sees how I've let my eyebrows grow back in." Your aunt laughs, and you feel a twinge of guilt in your stomach.

"Why don't I start your bath?" she asks.

"Sounds great," you say, and you can see how pleased she is by your response.

After a few minutes, you go upstairs to the bathroom, where a steaming tub awaits. Your aunt has added a small bag of dried flowers that perfumes the air. None of you are used to the luxury of turning on a tap and having a limitless supply of hot water at your fingertips. You had only cold at your home in the Seam, and a bath meant boiling the rest over the fire. You undress and lower yourself into the silky water—your aunt has poured in some kind of oil as well — and try to get a grip on things.

The first question is who to tell, if anyone. Not your aunt, obviously; she'd only become sick with worry. Not Katniss or Gale. What would they do with the information? Perhaps you could try to persuade them to run away... Certainly they could survive in the woods. But they're both not alone and they'd never leave their families. Or you. When you get home you'll have to tell them something about why your Sunday hunts are a thing of the past, but you can't think about that now. Only about your next move. Besides, Gale's already so angry and frustrated with the Capitol that you sometimes think he's going to arrange his own uprising. The last thing he needs is an incentive. No, you can't tell anyone that you're leaving behind in District 12.