May The Odds Be Ever In Our Favour {PurplePhone | Hunger Games}

Five.

"Why did you bother?" Scott asked finally, sitting in one of the lowest branches of a tree. All the trees around here were relatively short, so he was still only at Vincent's eye-level.

"Bother?" Vincent hummed distractedly, pulling out some of the supplies from his pack and laying them out on the ground. "Bother with what?"

"Me," Scott replied. "It would have been so easy for you to just continue on your way, and not give a damn over whether or not I stormed off. Even if you did follow me, once you saw me in that tree about to be speared, surely you should have just turned around and let them finish me off. Why did you bother?"

"Because I like you," Vincent said simply, "And I think you deserve to live the longest out of everyone. Well," Vincent looked up at him and grinned, those knife-like teeth flashing. "Second longest."

Scott wasn't sure if that was supposed to be some kind of joke. He returned Vincent's heart-melting grin nervously, "Very funny. Seriously, though... what... what's likeable about... me? I'm..." He swallowed slightly. "I'm nobody."

"What? C'mon, you've got to be popular back in District 11. You're a real piece of eye-candy, you know," Vincent shrugged and looked back at his pack.

Scott felt an involuntary shiver run up his spine at the other tribute's words, and he clutched slightly tighter to the branch he was perched on. Vincent thought he was attractive? He was filled with an electric feeling that was entirely new to him, and it rocked his world a little. He'd never heard of the concept of a boy feeling affection towards another boy in Panem. Something about it felt hideously unnatural. Taking a deep breath to still his now racing heart, he laughed the comment aside, "Well, I'm glad you find me an aesthetically pleasing ornament to have around. I'm probably more popular here than in my district. At least here, people know I exist. They have to, before they brutally murder me."

"Don't say that," Vincent finished re-adjusting his pack and flipped over the strap, clipping it in before sitting cross-legged and making eye-contact with Scott. "I'm sure there are plenty of people back home, cheering for you right now."

Scott's shoulders slumped, he quickly broke the contact with Vincent and laughed quietly. "Look at me, Vincent. Do you honestly think anyone is expecting someone like me to win the games? I heard there was a rumour going around that I'd jump off the pedestal before the games even began, that I'd blow myself to bits because I was too fragile to deal with the arena."

"And look at you now," Vincent grinned. "Here you are, two weeks in to the games, in the list of the last 8 tributes to survive. You showed District 11 who's boss, huh?"

Scott looked down for a moment more, then reluctantly dragged his eyes up to meet Vincent's. "You're... I guess you're right." He barked a laugh, "You're getting me over my self-worth issues days before you're going to slit my throat. You see what I mean? What's the point? Why would you bother hanging around someone like me? I have no skills that could help you survive, I'm fragile and scared of anything violent, and I'm sarcastic and short-tempered. What's the benefit of having me by your side?"

"I'm not sure," Vincent replied, standing up and shifting his pack to sit comfortably on his back. "I just like you."

"But..." Scott frowned slightly, confused. The concept of someone liking him just because he was, just because he was there and existed was so new.

It felt good.

"Thank you," Scott said quietly.

"For what, for thinking you're cute? You've got nobody to thank for that, but you," Vincent walked over and leaned against the trunk of the tree Scott was in, something in his eyes making Scott shiver. He looked down quickly.

"How about you?" he asked. "You've got to be the most popular guy in District 1. You're brave, you're fierce and fearless, and... I mean- you're kind, too. I... just speaking from another perspective... you're very good looking, on top of it all. You have to have all the girls in Panem falling for you."

Vincent chuckled. All of a sudden he leaned forward, and the most incredible kind of electricity buzzed through Scott as Vincent's lips brushed against his ear.

"All of the girls, and some of the boys, too," he whispered, and then pulled back slightly to wink. Next moment, his hands were on Scott's shoulders, and for one wonderful, extremely terrifying moment, Scott thought Vincent was going to kiss him.

Instead, he gave a gentle shove, and Scott unbalanced with a yelp, falling backwards onto the leaf litter.

Slowly, he regained himself, stilling his breathing and rapid pulse, hoping that the fact his face was lit up like a Christmas tree could be passed off as embarrassment for falling. "What was that for?"

"Just a little symbolism," Vincent shrugged and stretched, but his eyes were filled with mischief.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Scott pushed himself into a sitting position, brushing the dirt off of his grazed elbows. "Are... Are you insinuating that... that I...?" He swallowed faintly, unable to complete the sentence.

"Well, only time will tell," Vincent sighed. "We better get moving if we want to get to a water source by the end of the day. It's getting late."

Scott nodded, getting to his knees and then standing up. His legs were shaking just slightly as he wobbled over to Vincent's side, ignoring his glances and staring at his feet as they walked. Vincent was right. Even though the shock of unbalancing from the tree branch had left Scott... he still felt as though he was falling.

And it was the best feeling in the world.