The 53rd Hunger Games- Two Words

35. Blood Spilt

Hadrian wakes me, whispering my name. It feels like a cold kiss on the back of my neck.

“I almost didn’t want to wake you,” he says as I reluctantly hand him the sleeping bag. “You looked so calm, and beautiful.”

He says it almost shyly. For what must be the first time, I see him blush.

“Are you trying to say I don’t look beautiful when I’m awake? Because I have to disagree,” I say.

“No, you look nice even when you’re awake. I still think I look better, though.”

I laugh quietly, still afraid of attracting tributes. Hadrian hands me the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders, then pulls the sleeping bag up around himself.

“Thank you,” I say in the most sarcastic voice I can muster. “Just go to sleep now, would you?”

He laughs softly, then lies on his side. He uses the coat he took from the Careers as a pillow, balling it up and pushing it under his head.

“What time do you think it is?” I say after a few minutes. Hadrian opens one eye, then the other. He looks up at the sky.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Two in the morning?”

“Stupid question,” I mutter under my breath. The Gamemakers engineer the arena so they can make it any time they want. It looks to be around that time, but dawn could be in three minutes time if that’s what the Gamemakers would like.

“How long do you want me to let you sleep for?” I ask. Hadrian sighs, and closes his eyes again. He drags his hand down his face.

“Four hours, I suppose?”

“And then where do we go?”

He brushes his index finger across his lip. “We just keep heading inland, I guess. There’s a river that leads to the lake; we were camped out there for a while.”

By ‘we’ he means the Careers. And by a while, he can’t mean more than a couple of days. Then again, this is the eleventh day in the arena, and it feels like a lifetime.

“Happy eleventh day in the Hunger Games,” I say to Hadrian, examining the blade of my axe.

“And may the odds be ever in your favour,” he says. He sits up, and drags himself over to me. For some reason that I never have any hope of understanding he’s still able to drag himself across to me gracefully and with next to no noise. I know what he’s going to do, and I want to push him away.

I can’t find the strength or the will.

He presses his lips to mine, and his hands skim my arms, then down my back, I throw my arms around his neck.

“I hope the Capitol doesn’t see this,” he says, “because then they’ll be overcome with envy.”

He presses his forehead against my own. I can feel the warmth of his breath tickling my skin.

“All of the Capitol?” I ask, “or just the women?”

“All of the Capitol,” Hadrian confirms.

“Go to sleep,” I laugh, “or I’ll have you take my watch as well.”

“Fine,” he says, lying down again. “I’ll go to sleep. But only because you asked so nicely.”

A fresh peal of laughter comes from both of us, though it’s still quiet. We can’t forget where we are so easily.

“Good night, Eunia,” he says quietly.