THE HUNGER GAMES: the taste of Whiskey and Snow // CORIOLANUS SNOW

Eighteen

"Whiskey please lay the table," Gree instructed her.

"As you wish auntie," she smiled obediently. Forks appeared in her hands and she placed them on the table.

Gree sat at the other side of the table.

"Why are you sitting so far away, auntie?" Whiskey laughed. "I miss you. Sit closer."

As soon as these words left her mouth, the table extended five metres away.

"Gree?" She questioned, feeling panicked. "I can't reach you. You're so far away."

Suddenly, Snow was sitting in a chair next to her. "Don't worry about her."

"Coriolanus!" She smiled, "I'm glad your here."

Before he could reply, her auntie grabbed her hand. "What makes you think you can trust him?"

"What?" Whiskey questioned. "Why would you say that?"

"Don't trust him."

Suddenly, Whiskey was awake, staring at the ceiling. Her dream swirled in her brain, still playing out in her subconscious. She listened to the rise and fall of Coriolanus's breaths next to her.

Her mind was tugging against something she couldn't understand. She just knew that Coriolanus suddenly wasn't as kind as she thought yesterday. He wasn't as dashing as she remembered. Everything he did wrong was sitting in her memory. Maybe she was still salty over yesterday's dismissal of her importance, but she found herself questioned when she suddenly decided he was trustworthy.

Over the past week, she'd been so distracted over this boy who cared if she survived, she forgot about surviving. The Hunger Games was in about 16 hours, if they managed to capture and not kill each tribute that escaped. She wasn't ready to die in 16 hours.

She climbed out of the bed, stepping over her chains on the floor. She creaked through the room, her fingers wrapping around the knife in her pocket. Whiskey turned around and watched his sleeping figure in the darkness. She trusted him when he was using her just for strategy, why couldn't she use him and betray his trust? It would only be fair.

Suddenly, a click on the door make her almost jump out of her skin. She stepped into the darkness as someone continued to knock gently on the door.

"Whiskey?" A familiar voice whispered. "Are you in there?"

"Ratley," she whispered, relief flooding her voice. Whiskey quietly unlocked the door with the key Coriolanus left on the table.

Ratley stood in all his handsome, trustworthy glory in the dimly lit hallway as Whiskey creaked the door open. He smiled, showing off his teeth, "How you been? Are you okay?"

Before she could stop herself, Whiskey hugged him. He stumbled a little but soon his hand found the small of her back and he chuckled. "I missed you too, Whiskey. Now we need to get out of here."

"And go where?" She questioned. "The hunger games are today..."

"A few of us tributes are being smuggled through a crate train back to our districts. I came here to take us home," he smiled.

"We're going home?" Whiskey whispered, glancing at Coriolanus who was sleeping peacefully. If this was the last time she was going to see him, she could easily admit, she always thought he was handsome, and in this light, he looked even more so. She smiled remembering their kiss.

"Okay, Let's go," she sighed, so grateful to finally be free of this place.

Ratley and Whiskey creeped through the academy, trying to avoid the occasional peacekeeper doing his rounds. It was so dark they kept stumbling on small lips in the carpet and steps they couldn't see. Whiskey was amazed Ratley had managed to get through the darkness himself.