PLATINUM • THE HUNGER GAMES ²

| 06. LOVE IS A TREACHEROUS THING

BOOK TWO
CHAPTER SIX

( LOVE IS A TREACHEROUS THING )

FOUR WEEKS PASSED of intense hand to eye coordination combat training alongside the rest of the boys. I slowly grew tired and aching, the ever tightening scar that resided on my waist pulled if I attempted to throw at a certain distance and, as I wielded blades increasingly more, the nightmares got worse and worse. You could clearly see that the training was straining Corey to his highest ability, proving his lazier attitude to tire every so often before he could reach the point of his limitations with combat. We eventually drove Bradley away from his excessive alcohol consumption and his strength rose ever so slightly more than before due to his health, although I still suspected him from the odd bottle of whiskey every so often. Will and his father didn't talk a word the entire time, arranging the timetables of each of our sessions to miss their chances of speaking to one and other again. I asked and asked why, but Will would never tell me why they never talked. He'd always said he didn't want to hurt me or he didn't know in response to my questions. I believed the first more than the latter.

It was only until two days before the reaping that I eventually convinced myself to watch the video of my father again. For some absurd reason, Bradley had the tape stored in a short, wooden box that resided underneath the small bookshelf living in the living room of his house. Yet, he never tried to hide it in a place I could not find it, instead he left it somewhere I had to guess, almost as if he knew that one day I would come to search for it. Eventually, after sneaking in the midst of the night and without waking him up, I had retrieved it, bringing it home in the process. Then I watched it, for the first time in two years.

The volume was turned low, in fear of disturbing Will's sleep in the spare room that night. That had become a daily routine now: Will spending the night at mine, which was most unlike him. Before, he spent every possible moment with his family, but now, he never spoke a word to them. I guessed what happened to me, was happening to him. His family was starting to fall apart and there was nothing he could do about it. However, until two weeks prior, I had never met his father; only his mother and his younger sister. And the reason for that circulated around in my thoughts until it swooped down from my mind and hit me hard on my head.

Cedar Halcyon was the Peacekeeper that killed Carter Quinn – the rebel from Ten – my father.

I couldn't quite move for a moment as the video became blank and my fingers tucked underneath the coarse thrown material that was stretched across the surface of the sofa. Trying to comprehend the fact Will met me after this happened, yet he never mentioned it, puzzled me and an expression of confusion planted itself on my face. And again, I'm left to guess that he did it to avoid hurting my already scared life anymore. But, still, I returned to my habit of freezing in my place until the haunting thought had escaped from my mind.

By the light of morning, I turned the television off and shuffled over off the sofa towards the rack of coats that hung slouched across the porch way wall. Slowly lifting my pair of Wellington boots into my sight, I slipped them onto my feet and the soles wrapped around my toes, snuggling the base of my feet. I made my way out of the front door and trudged solemnly to the centre of the village where the fountain lay. Once I had reached it, a flood of calming and smooth sound of water entered my ear and my body released its tense.

One day until the Reaping. Everyday, every second, every moment of my life's had become a countdown to something. The words gradually tickling down in my head and making a tally of the time that had passed. I continued to focus on the rippling droplets of water that cascaded down each level's tray. Drop by drop. It sounded horrendous inside the dark, unforgotten area of my head. Drop by drop. The blood poured down from the centre of Bella's temple to the point of her shoulders. Warm, ruby blood falling from the scar on my waist down the side of my leg.

Now that feeling was going to haunt my mind forever.

"You look cold, here, wear this." Will's head appeared from my front door, a sleeveless coat carried towards me in his hands. His eyes were surrounded by thick black bags yet he walked towards me in a more than awake manner.

"It's the middle of summer, I'm not cold," I replied, denying his courteous offer with a wave of my hand.

"I don't care," His voice turned cold and his arm clasped onto the top of mine, guiding it into one of the sleeves of the coat. "You could get a fever and we certainly don't want that if we want you home in one piece for harvest."

"Harvest? I'm going to go in that arena against people who won their games by force," I said, "Not by pot luck. Yet you think I'm going to be still alive by Harvest?"

My answer was only a small nod followed by a hum of uncertainty as Will crossed his arms.

"I've had my hope, but now I'm not sure that's even going to last me past the bloodbath. Everyone else put in the reaping bowl tomorrow is part of an everlasting legacy. I'm the one who broke it. I have nothing worth fighting for and nothing that you say is going to persuade me that I do." I held onto that last breath for a moment or two, for the unbearable silence that longed after it was only a single tear dropping from the edge of my eye.

I closed my eyes and entered a world of darkness as I wiped away the liquid that rested on my cheeks. Again, it only felt like blood in my fingertips, reminding me that, once I went into the Quarter Quell, the only way to make it back was to have blood stained in my hands.

I struggled to contain the tears in my eyes and they each felt sticky as the sadness tangled itself around my lashes. A brief moment passed before I felt a warm touch wipe them away again that I didn't recognise as my own and a pair of hands heated my damp, chilled cheeks.

However, as soon as my eyes peeled back open, Will's lips met mine shortly. The feeling of his touch stained my lips as he eventually pulled away, my skin sticking to his in a desperate attempt to keep them together in the freezing atmosphere. A sharp chill left imprinted with a delicate feeling on the edge of my skin, fulfilling a craving I never knew I needed. His hands wrapped around the back of my head and pulled me into an embrace, almost like he didn't want to let go.

"I needed to do that before —"

"I know." As those words were said, I started to feel something I hadn't felt in ages. A smile crept up onto my face from the frozen expression I previously fashioned. Even though I couldn't see it, I could feel him smiling back.

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