May The Odds Be Ever In Our Favour {PurplePhone | Hunger Games}

Nine.

Scott peered at the sleeping bag, "It's small."

Vincent paused from where he was rolling out the bag across the dirt and looked up at him, "Sorry, your majesty. The Gamemakers don't exactly put king-sized four-poster beds in the Cornucopia."

"No, that's okay, it's just going to be hard to fit," Scott chewed on his lip, sitting cross-legged on the dusty ground. He didn't want to sleep on the earth, where bugs could crawl into his ears and muttants or tributes could maul them overnight. He wanted to go sleep in a tree. But he knew Vincent was scared of heights and he was right: if they didn't sleep in the same sleeping bag, Scott would freeze to death.

"There," Vincent brushed the dirt off of his hands, and then rubbed them against each other in an attempt to warm them. "Geez, it's almost cold enough for it to snow."

"Ugh," Scott hugged his knees to his chest. "I hope not. I hate snow. All wet and freezing, and it kills all the crops in our district, so we have nothing to eat."

"Well yeah, but there are no crops here to kill. It'll be fine, Scott. Now come on, I'm tired and cold, and I wanna sleep," Vincent peeled back the sleeping bag and slid in, looking over at Scott expectantly.

Scott paused for a moment, before reluctantly crawling over to the sleeping bag. Sitting at the top of it, he pulled his mud-caked shoes off and put them to the side. "You sure about this?"

"Certain. What are you so worried about?" Vincent asked. "What's the worst that could happen?"

I can't sleep all night because you're so close and- oh gawd, what if you try to kiss me?! A-And... what if... I let you?  Oh, gawd, that would be amazing... "Uhhh..." Scott swallowed thickly. "We get eaten?"

Vincent laughed, "Is that what you're worried about? You're funny. We're not going to get eaten, Scott."

"Ha... yeah... of course not," Scott muttered nervously. He shuffled over, sliding his legs into the sleeping bag, and then gasped. "You're so warm!" He wiggled into the bag next to Vincent as fast as he could, sighing happily as he felt his toes and fingers start to warm up. "This is so much better."

Vincent chuckled, "I'm warm? You're freezing! We should ask your sponsors to send down a huge jumper or something."

"Sponsors?" Scott asked, propping himself up on his elbows. "Oh, no. I don't have any sponsors. My training score was a 3. I bet everyone's sponsoring you. You had an 11."

"What? Surely you have sponsors. The chances of surviving without sponsors are like... 1000 to 1. Are you telling me you've lived in the arena for almost 3 weeks without any sponsor help at all?" Vincent sounded genuinely surprised, he turned to look at Scott.

Scott shrugged, returning his gaze, "It was that or die, and if you haven't figured, I'm terrified of dying."

The anthem started to play, and Vincent sat up next to Scott, craning his neck up to the sky to see the faces of those that had been killed. There was, indeed, the boy that had been shooting at Scott in the tree a few days ago, his girl friend and... Annabeth. Scott gazed up at her one last time, before the picture faded away and the stars returned.

"How many are left?" Scott whispered.

"There was 8. Now there's 5. Apart from you and I, that means there's three tributes left," Vincent sighed.

"Three, huh? Three more lives to be taken before mine," Scott sighed. "I guess that's a good thing. At least it'll be over soon."

"Soon, yes, but still, I'm not letting this all end without you getting some sponsors," Vincent hummed. "We need to do something."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked, "Does it even matter? What's the point in getting people to sponsor me?"

"Oh, come on, we need to do something that will make the audience love you," Vincent shrugged, "Plus, I think it'll help you feel like people really do care about you. And they do, Scott. They care about you a lot. I care about you a lot."

Scott laughed quietly, feeling his face heat up, "You're sweet."

Vincent sighed. "Oh well, we better get to sleep."

"Oh, right, yeah..." Scott looked around him at the dark trees, imagining he saw shadowy figures whispering among the branches. He reached out and grabbed Vincent's arm without really recognising what he was doing. "Goodnight, I guess."

"Scott," Vincent put a hand on his chin, turning his head so they were looking eye to eye. "There's nothing to be afraid of, okay? I'll protect you."

Scott blinked, finding his senses completely numb as that same tension from the lake blossomed in him. The only sound he managed to force out in the end was a nervous trill, "O-Oh, y-yeah. I know..."

"Okay, good," Vincent smiled. Then he leaned forward, and Scott only had time for his blood to run cold with anticipation before, like that, Vincent's warm lips pressed against his.

Scott shuddered at the feeling, finding himself completely frozen in place as something incredible burst inside of him.  He never expected it would feel like this... goosebumps rose on his skin, that for once had nothing to do with the cold. He started to regain his senses, his eyelids sinking shut over his dark eyes and head tilting, beginning to move his lips in the slow dance against Vincent's.

The pressure on his lips lessened as Vincent pulled away, and Scott felt the weight of what had just happened crash down on him all at once. He... He kissed me! I... I kissed back! We... That was amazing! O-oh my gawd...

Vincent sighed, lying down in the sleeping bag. He turned away from Scott, apparently completely unaware of what had just happened. "Goodnight."

Scott stayed staring straight ahead, sitting up in the sleeping bag with his eyes glazed over, lost in thought. His fingers traced absentmindedly over his tingling lips as he relived the moment, remembering the way their lips had moved perfectly against each other.

After a long moment, he lay back down in the sleeping bag, unable to control the huge grin spread across his features.

The Hunger Games weren't so bad, after all...

(( If this is intensely ooc I'm so sorry I've been trying to write this chapter for like a week))