A Victor's Ally - The 73rd Hunger Games (Fanfiction)

twenty one

By the feeling of the silky, soft cushions under my hands, I was lying on the plush couch in the living room. I opened my eyes, wiping away the tears that had dried on my cheeks while I slept. The sun was beginning to rise, and a pale orangey light was filtering through the massive windows that covered the whole wall. Slowly, stretching my cramped muscles and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I stood and walked over to the window. Looking out from the ninth floor, I could see the Capitol stretched out before me. I imagined what it would be like to have been a District Twelve tribute on the highest floor of the Training Center. The Capitol looked beautiful in the sunrise. It was hard to imagine that something so wonderful and impressive could hold such evil, but I was a living reminder of the horrors that occurred here.

The apartment was dead silent, and I assumed that the others were still in deep sleep, tired from the long night. Tip-toeing back to my room, I grabbed a change of clothes and shimmied out of my dress, trying not to dwell on the fact that the last time I was here I was preparing for my death. On my way out of the hallway, I passed Luke's room. The door was slightly ajar.

Quietly, I peeked my head through the crack. His bed was made perfectly (no doubt the work of an Avox, as Luke was never that neat) and there was no sign of my best friend. A pair of pants and a sweater was folded neatly at the end of his bed. Walking in, less cautiously now that I knew he wasn't there, I grabbed the sweater and pulled it over the tighter clothes I was given. It was huge on me, clearly meant for someone of Luke's size, but I felt safe in it. I snuggled deeper into it, wishing that it could hide me from the Capitol forever. All I wanted was to be back in District Nine again, but I still had to get through another interview today. Even when I was finally allowed to go home, I would still be whisked away again for the Victory Tour. The thought of seeing the faces of the tribute's families, especially those of whom were dead by my own hands, almost made me break down again, but I was too drained to shed anymore tears.

I made myself a cup of coffee, making a face at the bitter taste. I was still getting used to the Capitol's 'delights', but I knew coffee was definitely something I needed to develop a taste for. The front door to the apartment suddenly opened and Luke shuffled through, his hair and clothes a mess. He didn't notice me as he quietly shut the door behind him, careful not to make any noise. When he turned around and looked up, he stopped short in surprise as he saw me leaning against the counter. His hands found their way to his dark, scruffy hair and he ran his fingers through it, a nervous habit that I had picked up on. The exhaustion in his eyes was apparent. Sipping my coffee, I held his gaze. I was too empty to feel much emotion, but the slightest hint of anger brewed in my stomach at the thought of him leaving me to go spend the night elsewhere.

His face looked devastated, and I couldn't bring myself to say anything. There were so many things that I wanted to address, but he looked so helpless and confused that it reminded me of when we were little. Luke sat down on the couch and put his elbows on his knees, leaning forward letting out a loud sigh. I sat down on the other end, curling my legs up underneath me and clutching my coffee mug for comfort.

"Who were you with?" I asked quietly, biting my lip when I was met with nothing but silence.

I shifted on the couch, leaning forward and closing the space between us. "I've been waiting to see you for so long," my voice came out bitterly, "and you just... flipped out then left to hook up with some random Capitol girl."

He shook his head, whether in denial or disgust I wasn't sure. "It's not what you think, Juliet."

"Then what is it?" I questioned angrily, sick of him avoiding my questions. "You're constantly saying vague shit about having to answer to the Capitol's demands, but you never explain. You came home at sunrise looking like a hot mess. What am I supposed to think?"