"Allies?" "Always."

Chapter 8

I march hastily to the elevator without even acknowledging the few avoxes I pass on the way. I punch the button that has a 12 on it. There is a little sting and I jerk my hand back. My middle finger has a slit on it with warm blood slowly seeping out. I shattered the glass button. I hold my shirt over my finger, hoping to stop the blood. It's not as bad as it could be, but it is a little deep.

The door to my floor slides open and I walk out, determined to get to my room unnoticed. "How did your session go? Hey, is that blood?" I keep walking, despite Haymitch's desire for answers.

When I get to my destination, I make a beeline to the bathroom. There, I wash my hands. The cut stings when I get soap in it and I let out a little yelp of pain. I cover my mouth with my good hand, hoping that nobody heard me.

I take it off and dig a chunk of glass about as long and wide as my finger nail out of the wound. An avox walks into my room with a first aid kit. She probably heard my screams. It's the same one from earlier that I called Delly. I walk out of the bathroom and sit on the bed, showing her my hand. She fills the cut full of rubbing alcohol. It burns like fire, but I don't even wince. "What's your name?" I ask. She looks up at me, but doesn't speak. "Oh, right." I say. I pick up a pencil and a pad of paper that was laying on the night stand. She takes them in her gloved hands and writes down a single word. "Lavinia". She scribbles it in neat cursive hand writing.

"Lavinia." I repeat. "I'll remember that." After she examines my hand further, she picks the pencil back up and writes, "It needs stitches." I swallow hard. I've always hated needles. "If it has to be done." Is all I say.

She sterilizes a needle and threads it, giving me pain killers to swallow in the meantime. I have a pillow in my mouth to bite down on. She starts sewing my skin back together. I do flinch this time, however. Pain shoots up my arm when she inserts the needle. It's worse when she tightens the string.

And of all times, that's when Katniss walks through the door. She's already in tears, but the sight of me like this shocks more tears out of her eyes. "Peeta! What happened!" She yells. Lavinia does another stitch and the sound of my pain is muffled by the pillow. Katniss grabs my free hand and holds it until the avox is finished. After the stitches, she gets a whiteish, yellowish cream and rubs it over the gash. And with that, she's gone.

I fill Katniss in on what happened, and she does the same with me. And then she cries. It takes at least an hour of her crying into my chest until she just lays on the bed, cuddling up to me under a blanket. As I stroke her hair, we watch the sun set over the Capitol.

Effie and Haymitch keep knocking on the locked door. I shout for them to leave us alone, and eventually, they do. The Gamemakers hate us, and we both know it. They are going to wait until we're in the arena, then we will be their main target. I can almost guarantee that there won't be a bow or any arrows for Katniss.

Before even that though, they'll give us scores so low that anybody rational wouldn't sponsor either of us. And worse, we'll be considered dead before it starts. The curtain will fall before the stage is even set.

They knock on the door again. "What?!" Katniss gets fed up and screams.

"Dinner."

I do what I always do before dinner, take off my pin and take a shower, then make my way to the dinning room. My hand didn't hurt tremendously in the shower, so I'd say that medicine is a miracle in a small, silver container. Lavinia reapplies the remedy to my skin.

The whole time, Katniss and I stay silent as we take tiny spoonfuls of fish soup. I'm not going to lie, it's the worst thing I've ever tasted. I eat it anyway, thankful for what I do have. I imagine that it's one of Katniss's squirrels. It doesn't work. Let's just say, the avox has to refill my glass of water several times. "Enough small talk, just how horrible were you today?" Haymitch pipes up when I have a spoon full halfway between my bowl and my mouth. Thank God I have a reason to set it back down.