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𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓. She asked repeatedly but the torturers seemed to have lost their snarky tongue, not answering her undying questions.
"Hello? Where are you taking me?"
"Does she not shut up?" One of the guards muttered in front of them as he opened the door. The guys pushed the victor in, shutting the door behind them.
"Is anyone there?" She called, the surrounding looking like a dressing room.
"Scarlet."
She turned over her shoulder to see Rome standing beside the mirror. She let out a sobbed laugh before running to him, throwing her arms around him as she found joy in a familiar face. "Rome!"
"I missed you, Girl in Red," He sighed on her shoulder. "I really missed you."
"How have you been? What's going on out there?"
"Riots," He simply replied. "Come on, we don't have much time, you could be in trouble." He ushered.
"I don't understand, what's going on?" She curiously asked, following his quick steps. "I'm not doing an interview."
"It's worse than interviews."
Rome presented her with an outfit and Scarlet immediately broke out in sobs at the terrible memories from earlier. It was a white, lace gown. Completely see-through. She almost choked on her cries. Rome turned to look at the peacekeepers opening and guarding the door. His hands formed fists.
"I can't do this, not again." She whispered, voice cracking slightly.
Not giving it another thought, Rome reaches for the gown and tears it apart with his hands. "She's not wearing this!" He looked her in the eyes and bravely whispered, "Keep fighting, star." He spoke as though they were his last words, and he was proud of his last words.
Scarlet looked horrified. "Rome, stop, they'll hurt you." She watched as the peacekeepers dragged him away. "Let him go! NO! ROME!" She screamed as one of the men slices Rome's neck, sharp and strong. "No, NO!" She hysterically yelled, falling to the floor as her screams soon hurt her throat. Rome choked on his own blood, falling to the floor.
Years of service. Hundreds of beautiful creations. Dead in an instant.
She loathed the fact that the last ever dress he got to design was a dress he hated. He couldn't even go in peace or die doing something he loved. Cruel, cruel world.
Scarlet couldn't believe it. "No," She tiredly coughed. Within an instant, darkness took over, she felt her sanity slips away.
"Come with us." One of the guards ordered, dragging her fragile body away.
"SCARLET," PEETA WHISPERED AS SOON as the door slammed after the guards threw Scarlet in. He crawls over to her laying position, touching her trembling shoulder. She returned later than her usual time, and Peeta felt the extra minutes pass by like hours. She curled in tighter to herself, flinching away from his touch. "Scarlet, what happened?"
She only whimpers—feeling defeated and so, so tired. She shook her head, trying to make herself smaller.
"Scarlet, I'm not gonna hurt you, it's just me, it's Peeta." He speaks softly. "Can I touch you?"
Scarlet—whose eyes were screwed shut—hesitated for a moment and then nodded, trusting him. He pushed away some sticky, tangled hair from her sweaty forehead and placed the other hand on her shoulder. His eyes laid on the violent bruising, deep red blotches scattered over her neck. Standing out on her pale skin. She continued sobbing.
"Scarlet, are you hurting? Can you please tell me where? I can help you." He softly spoke, hiding his panicked voice not to startle her.
It takes a moment for her to calm down, Peeta patiently waits for her to regain her speaking senses, for her to regain her composure. Her voice is hoarse by the time she talks.
"President Snow... he'd sell desirable victors to the Capitol, he did that to me, Finnick, and so many others." She told him, "When Johanna refused, he killed her family." She sobbed, breaking down a little again.
Peeta kept comforting her, despite feeling his blood freeze at the revelation.
"Sometimes, if I wasn't in the right set of minds, Finnick would go instead of me, and I'd do the same for him. It's the only deal President Snow ever made with us." She tells him, "We never talk about it."
Peeta screwed his eyes shut. "Your family is safe now, Scarlet, he can't hurt them."
"He can hurt you," Scarlet cried.
Realisation hit Peeta hard. "Oh Scarlet, you should've—they can't hurt me more than they already have, the next time he asks, promise me you won't go, let them hurt me, I don't care—"
Scarlet shook her head. "No, I can't do that, you're my friend." Her entire body ached as she searched for some sort of comfort, comfort from home.
Peeta moved some strands of hair from her face. "Is there anything I can do?"
She thought for a mere second. "Can we talk? About something... unrelated to this?"
Peeta nodded and wondered for a few seconds. "Did you know I can make cakes out of any sort of fruit?"
"Even cherries?" Scarlet was quick to gasp with a shocked smile. Not expecting that grin at all.
"Even cherries." He confirmed with a light chuckle. "When we get out of here, I'll make you one."
Scarlet knew he was lying to cheer her up, they didn't seem to be getting out of there anytime soon. "How are you at decorating?"
"Best in my district for sure," He joked, pretending to be self-obsessed which unpredictably reminded her of Finnick. "Maybe I can put blue icing on top, like the ocean from District 4."
"Maybe put less sugar, we don't want Finnick to get diabetes, all he eats is sugar cubes." She started to ease.
Peeta didn't miss it—how she brings up Finnick in almost every single conversation.
"Will you teach me?" She suddenly said before he could reply, "To bake? I always wanted to have a hobby, a skill that's not just a survival skill."
"Only if you teach me to be half as charming as you." He smirked, sending her ego higher up. Scarlet laughed.
"You're already charming, Peeta, you're like the most people-person I've ever met."
"Well, that means a lot coming from the Girl in Red," He looked at her, watching her grinning to herself. "Don't tell Haymitch or Katniss, I never said this to anyone but... you're my all-time favourite victor."
Scarlet felt a bubble of joy in her stomach as she sat up, "Wait, really?" She exclaimed. "Can I tell Finnick?Oh, he'd be so jealous."
Peeta laughed with her, "Just make sure it doesn't reach Haymitch, he would drown himself in way more alcohol."
