Strictly Prohibited ➳ THE HUNGER GAMES ✔️

|05| A Sheep In Wolf's Clothing

Chapter 5 x

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Gloss's POV

It feels a lot quieter sitting down to dinner without Glimmer and Marvel. Admittedly, our tributes are doing well in the arena after having joined with the other Careers, and I have high hopes for them. However, my good mood is spoiled by the fact that we are not alone at dinner – and I'm not talking about Storm. A high-ranking Capitolian by the name of Cicero Belgiam has accompanied us, and I'm struggling to retain my temper. He keeps shooting meaningful glances at Cashmere, who keeps her focus on her food. I feel like throwing mine up. There's got to be some other way to get sponsors.

Storm is picking at her food without actually eating anything. Poor precious Capitolian girl can't seem to handle the pressure of the Games. I shovel down my own food, fisting my hand around my wine glass as Cashmere gets gracefully to her feet. She turns to glance at Belgiam, and I can see the dread in her eyes, the apprehension of what's to come.

"Shall we go and talk business, Cicero?"

Belgiam is all too eager to leave the table and I can feel the bile rising in my throat. Storm keeps her eyes down, stirring her broccoli idly through the sauce without the slightest intention of eating it. The door clicks shut and the footsteps recede, and then I'm left with her. There are purple bruises around her neck in the shape of fingers and although I don't want to, I know the right thing to do is apologise.

"Storm." She looks up at her name, a surprised look crossing her face. "I...I'm sorry that I hurt you."

The words are lies. They are without any true meaning. What's to say I don't lose my temper and strike her again? It feels so good to take my anger out on someone who won't fight, who won't hit back...but that's just the problem. I'm taking my frustration at the Capitol out on someone who – despite my dislike for her – is undeserving of such violence. She nods slowly, looking a bit uncertain and it stings a little to know that she thinks of me as just some violent brute. She doesn't expect that I regret my actions.

I push myself to my feet. "I'm going to bed."

"Stay." The word shocks me into freezing, because I never expected it from my victim. She glances up at me with curious hazel eyes and I see that I'm not a monster to her – I'm an enigma. A puzzle she wants to put together. I guess no one told her that I have a few pieces missing. "Will...will you tell me about your Games?"

It's a strange request, especially from her. Most people want to shy away from the blood and death that occurred, myself included. Storm doesn't handle these current Games very well, but I sigh heavily and rake a hand through my hair. If I go to bed, I'm just going to end up worrying about Cashmere. Maybe it's best that I do something to distract myself.

"I was sixteen years old..."

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By the time Cashmere returns, Storm is curled on the couch, asleep. She looks like such a child and in many ways, she is. She has never been exposed to the bleak reality of the districts. She's lived a privileged life in the Capitol and it's all she's ever known. But none of that gives her any right to pity, the deep sadness that I saw in her eyes when I told her my story.

"You two getting along now?" A smile quirks Cashmere's lips, but her eyes are dead. I smile wryly, for her sake.

"Well, I'm not attacking her."

She laughs mirthlessly. "That's a start."

"So." It's a question I have to ask, no matter how much I hate to. I rake a hand through my hair and heave a sigh. "What have we got for Glimmer and Marvel?"