Mocking the Odds (A Hunger Games/Tom Hiddleston Fanfic)

Welcome to the Capitol

My arm, woven through James's, is the only thing that's keeping me from kicking my heels off and running full-force everywhere at once, to get a glimpse of all the things here in the president's mansion. James looks dashing in a simple black suit, and a cream-colored carnation has been pinned to the buttonhole, matching with both my dress and clip. The party is being held in the massive ballroom, which is at least three times the size of my barn. There are sets of plush couches and chairs gathered everywhere around little fireplaces and tables, and a huge space in the middle, which could be used for both dancing and mingling. Delicacies of everything and nothing all at once sit on long tables, stretching along the walls, and my appetite awakens. At one point or another, I want to taste everything in this room. 

James looks to me. "What would you like to do first?"

"Oh, I don't know, there's so much." I am breathless and overwhelmed all at once. 

"Dance, perhaps?"

"I don't know how." I frown. 

"That's because I haven't taught her yet." a familiar voice interjects.

"Benedict! You look handsome." I compliment, kissing his cheek. Indeed he did, dressed in a completely black suit and eyes as mesmerizing as ever. "James, this is Benedict, my-"

But James has completely disappeared from my sight, until I see him stalking off to one of the tables of food and downs a whole glass of spirits. I shake my head. Whatever was wrong with him?

"Maybe he's jealous?" Benedict offers, leading me to the middle of the ballroom.

"Of my stylist? Why, does he want to be the one to dress me up or something?" I say hotly, which ends up making us both giggle.

"Perhaps. Boys are very confusing." He faces me, and puts a hand on my hip, at which I shy away, but then realize this is how dancing with a partner is, and relax. 

I laugh outright at that. "You're a boy yourself, I don't think you have the right to say anything."

Benedict contorts his face into one of mocked offense. "How dare you! I am a man, not some petty boy." he declares in a hurt tone as he holds his other hand against mine. I look down.

"Where am I supposed to put my other hand?" 

"On my shoulder. And now, we just sway from side to side. See? It's not too hard."

"Oh." It really wasn't, especially because once we got into the rhythm, it was just moving our feet to the next step. Benedict was a wonderful dancer, and I was enjoying this.

The song ended, and a tall figure tapped my companion on the shoulder. "May I steal her for this next dance?" the cool voice inquired.

"Certainly. Keep her out of trouble." Benedict leaves, winking at me. It was then I realized that would be something my dad would have said, and my chin wobbles. 

"Is he your mentor or something?" I match the voice to the face, and it's of the District 1 male tribute, Loki. We take our places as the invisible musicians strike up a tune, and as he places his hand on mine, I find the cool temperature of it to be exceedingly comfortable. 

"My stylist, actually." I find my voice. Like Benedict, he was wearing all black, except for the green dress shirt that matched his eyes. I look around for his counterpart. 'Where's your girlfriend?"

Loki's eyes flash, and his jaw sets into a hard line. "She is NOT my girlfriend." he growls.

Shit. "Oh my god, sorry, I was just-" I shrink into myself until I realize he's grinning maliciously.