Chapter 9

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"Why is it so dark?" Katniss practically squeals, her voice at least an octave higher. "Stupid Capitol, I swear, if this is a trap..." She mutters to herself darkly and I chuckle. "Hey! Not funny," she snaps. By the sounds of it, she is groping around in the dark, and I can hear the thunks as she accidentally bumps two chairs against each other. She grabs my arm in the dark, and then releases it, as if she's been shocked. I try not to smirk at her reaction. Who knows? Maybe she's falling for me. 

Haymitch is roaring with laughter as he chokes his words out. "Tunnel...We're... in a tunnel!" he gasps, and I can't help but laugh with him. Katniss seems to be the only one that isn't amused. 

She sounds irritated, as she says, "Why isn't the electricity working then?" I can almost picture her eyebrows knitting into a tight V, and I chuckle, earning a light slap on my arm. God, she's making a habit of slapping me. 

My eyes are adjusting to the dark now, and I can see her outline right next to me. Haymitch seems to be lounging casually a bit further away as he waves an airy hand. "Somethin' about electromagnetic fields, science, and who knows what? Who cares? You need to relax a little." 

"You're telling ME to relax?" she retorts. "No thanks, I rather be sober and paranoid than drunk like you are."  

Somehow, this just causes Haymitch to guffaw even harder. 

I barely notice this exchange as I try to ignore the fact that Katniss is standing mere centimeters away from me. I don't know what it is about the dark that makes me feel more conscious of her presence, and I am struck with a sudden urge to move closer and close the gap between us. I can almost feel the electricity zipping through the air between us and wonder if she feels it too. 

Suddenly, the light flickers back on and Katniss lets out a breath she had been holding. I study her face and it amuses me. She has a worry line and is frowning, thinking about something. "What are you looking at?" she snaps at me, and sits down on a chair.

I swear I hear Haymitch mutter "Touchy, touchy" under his breath. 

Katniss puts her fingers to her temple and squints, concentrating hard. "Shoot, I forgot what I was going to ask..." she says, more to herself than to us. 

Haymitch pats her on the shoulder, and she shrugs him off, annoyed. "It doesn't matter anyway. One thing at a time! Soon, we will be pulling into the station, where you'll meet your stylists." Beside me, Katniss squirms. "You'll need to let them do whatever they want to you no matter whether you like it or not." Haymitch continues, and I frown. I really don't enjoy the idea of that. 

Katniss obviously doesn't either. "But-" she says, about to protest. 

Haymitch cuts her off. "Just let them do it. You said you'd listen to me, remember?" He turns to me for support. 

I grudgingly admit he's right, nodding my head. After all, if we don't look nice, we won't have any sponsors, and without them there is no way I could keep Katniss alive. She huffs and looks away, running her fingers over her braid. 

I walk out of the room to get a glass of water and Haymitch follows me, to my surprise. "She's a bit of work, eh?" he says. 

I eye him suspiciously. He is drinking again, but he seems to be more in control. "I guess, yeah, you're probably right." 

He doesn't answer me, and I assume he has returned to the dining room. I am about to take a drink of water when his voice startles me, and I slosh water all over myself. 

"Tell me, son, why do you want her alive so bad? I've never met a tribute as selfless as you." 

I can feel his gaze on my back and take my time in responding. "I don't know..." I shrug. Then, under my breath, I add "Probably because I've loved her since I was 5..." 

I whisper it so softly, I don't think he hears it, until he walks out of the room. Stopping at the doorway, he turns around and looks back at me. "Maybe you should let the poor girl know." He looks entirely serious. 

I take a drink of water and scoff at his idea. I've barely known her, yet I'm in love with her. How does one explain that? But then again, maybe Haymitch is right. I should tell her of my love before I die in the Games. It'd also be a good way to get sponsors; they're always suckers for a good love story. 

My brain is working like a machine now, making up excuses to profess my love for her, but the logical part of me stubbornly refuses to do it. Oh, well. I sigh, and set my glass of water down before heading back to the dining room. 

I gasp at what I see. Not inside the train, but outside. Katniss is still sitting in the chair while Haymitch downs a mouthful of wine. She is staring through the window, and I follow her gaze.  

We are finally in the Capitol, the glamorous center of everything, and it looks much more ostentatious than I imagined. The people all look so unique, and they all seem to be confident and fine with it. The buildings are a marvel, tens of stories high, and painted in bright, happy colors. A group of spectators stand outside along the railroad tracks, watching us enter the city. 

I stride over to the window and begin waving at the people, smiling until my face hurts. It's just a show put up for them, although inside I am seething. These are the people that caused the Hunger Games to happen, and these are the people that are eager to see me die. However, I plaster an innocent look on my face, and try to make a good impression. Hopefully some of these people will choose to sponsor me. 

I sense Katniss looking at me, and I shift my weight uncomfortably. Finally, I take a break from waving at the people, and look back at her. She is studying me inquisitively.  

I shrug at her inquiring look. "Don't judge! One of them could be rich." 

She smiles at me, but then a series of expressions cross her face- confusion, sadness, anger- then her face becomes expressionless and unreadable. 

She crosses her arms, and I catch her eyes. They seem to be piercing me with what seems like disappointment and suspicion. What now? 

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edited by... wait for it... ME!!!! (trying to procrastinate writing another chapter...)

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