lethal 。 𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔞𝔡𝔩𝔢𝔶

004 ─── like fire .

"Even if we weren't, we don't really have a choice, do we?" I said lightly, even though my point carried much more meaning than intended. Cinna shrugged in passive agreement, making me look down and bite my lip sharply, my teeth digging into skin.

And then Cinna pulled out two matchsticks alight with blue flame, making my eyes widen into saucers. When Cinna said that he wanted to make an impression, I didn't imagine... this.

Cinna clearly saw the expression on my face, because he smiled assuredly, the matchsticks steady in his hands. "It's not real fire. Your outfits are built so you won't feel a thing," Cinna reassured, giving an explanation to the unique material, but my eyes were stuck on the flickering flame.

"You're going to set us on fire?" I asked, my voice revealing how uneasy I was about it. I started chewing on my lip nervously, goosebumps crawling up my spine.

"Yeah, that looks pretty real to me," Peeta says, glancing at me as if to check if I agreed. I did.

"Well, that's the idea," Cinna deadpanned, glancing at his flames. It was clear to me that Cinna was a genius; whether he was crazy or not was yet to be determined.

My eyes once again fixated on the blue and orange light, but I looked up as soon as Cinna addressed me. "You ready? Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," I said automatically, like a reflex. As if the very thought that I might be afraid was absurd; an insult to my character. Perhaps it was.

Cinna was right, to some degree. My dress, as well as Peeta's bodysuit, caught on fire like gasoline, but all I felt was a flickering sensation dancing across my skin, not the excruciating pain I expected. The fire took a form of blue light, dancing along the edge of my dress, as if it knew that this wasn't the main event. It was waiting to appear until the right moment.

"15!" a generic voice called out via the speaker system, so generic that I could barely tell what gender the person speaking was. I looked around to see that my fellow tributes were mounting their chariots, not one of them hesitating.

Peeta was the first one of us to react, grabbing the side of the chariot and pulling himself up. I glanced at Cinna quickly before following, heaving myself up into the charcoal chariot. I swept the long train of my gown into the chariot, moving it to the side.

"10!"

Cinna watched me carefully as the brown and black horses tied to the chariot started forward, their horseshoes clicking on the pavement as they fell into the lineup, at the very back.

"5!"

The flames started to melt from the iridescent blue to a glowing sunset orange. Peeta and I exchanged looks just as the chariot pulled forward, making my hand fly to grip the handlebar, keeping me upright.

"This year's tributes!" The projected voice of Caesar Flickerman reached my ears, making me wince at the high volume it was set at. It made me miss the quiet of 12.

Looking ahead, I could see Glimmer and Marvel - the tributes from District 1 - pulling out into the stadium, dressed in ridiculous pink fluffy outfits. I tried to hold back my giggles as we moved towards the entrance, and instead focused on the tingling feeling that was brought by my proximity to the fake flame Cinna engineered.

My eyes widened when I glanced down again, and saw the dress I was wearing completely engulfed in orange and red light, with bright sparks flying everywhere, the flame raging behind me. It looked real. It was real.

And as soon as I looked back up, I was bombarded with hundreds of faces screaming at us, pointing to Peeta and I, cheering becoming all I could hear. I looked from side to side, all around, taking in all of the people watching us.

In all of the chaos, I caught a glimpse of myself in the side mirror attached to the chariot. I sucked in a small gasp, suddenly realizing why everyone was looking. My deep brown eyes were reflecting orange from the light of the flames, and the black shadow that surrounded my eyes looked like warrior's paint. I looked like a living flame.

I flinched when I felt a hand grasp mine, and on instinct, I pulled back before looking over to see the person who had reached for me. Peeta.

"Come on, they'll love it," Peeta said, smiling a little. I was reminded of his excited smile when we entered the Capitol; how eager he was to please these people. And I was reminded of Haymitch's words.

He knows what he's doing.

I reached out and grabbed his hand, letting him raise our linked hands up in the air, in a sign of unity. The yelling of the crowd got louder, making a light smile grace my lips.

Peeta and I exchanged a glance, both of us grinning wide smiles. I turned back to the crowd, my nerves disappearing as I took it all in.

As we neared the end of the parade, the chariots in front of us pulled into a formation at the base of a tall podium, beholden to the president of Panem. Peeta and I came to a stop, the flames instantly disappeared as soon as we did, prompting Peeta and I to look at our outfits in amazement.

The cheers were cut off, silenced with a simple gesture before Snow's voice rang out, echoing off the walls. I pulled our hands down, unlinking mine from Peeta's as my sole focus became our fearless leader. I felt an odd coldness as soon as I let go of Peeta's hand, a chill I ignored.

"Welcome, welcome." Snow was looking down upon us, an apt metaphor for my place in the world. "Tributes, we welcome you. We salute your courage, and your sacrifice." Cheering rang out once again through the stadium, the excitement making nausea flutter in my stomach. It was sickening.

"And we wish you a happy Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor." A chill ran down the back of my neck, because I could have sworn that his pitch black eyes moved to me as he said that. But then he was gone, and so was I.

𝔛

"That. Was. Amazing," Cinna stayed bluntly, walking up to us with Portia, Haymitch and Effie behind him. Peeta and I had left our chariot, both of us breathless from the rush we had just experienced. Well, he was breathless. I still felt nauseous, the cheers for my death still echoing in my head.

"Oh, we are all anyone's going to be talking about!" Effie swooned, not used to all the attention. After all, she was the escort for District 12, and there hadn't been a victor from District 12, let alone even a contender, for 24 years. She wasn't exactly in the spotlight.

"So brave," Haymitch smirked at me, mocking me. My lips pressed into a straight line, my eyes narrowing into slits.

"Are you sure you should be near an open flame?" I smirked, and it was Haymitch's turn to narrow his eyes. We all knew what I was insinuating: that he was more alcohol than man. Which, perhaps he was.

The drunkard of 12 looked at me, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Fake flame? Are you sure you-" Haymitch completely cut off, as if something was caught in his throat, his eyes stuck on something over my shoulder, fear swirling in his eyes. I turned around to see what had caught his attention, my stomach dropping when I saw what... who it was.

The male tribute from District 2. Cato Hadley. Watching us, his eyes flickering sinisterly in the dim light. He smirked at us, my breathes coming quicker and heavier by the second. My heart stopped when his eyes moved over to me, fixating on me with a cruel, predatory gaze that made me feel like I was being hunted, even though we weren't in the arena yet.

"Let's go upstairs," Haymitch said, turning to walk towards the elevators while grasping ahold of my arm, pulling my gaze away from Cato. But before I faced forward I caught a glimpse of Peeta glaring in Hadley's direction. I didn't look back at Cato, but instead walked away, following Haymitch. I walked away.

xxx