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

Six

(( s/o to myfren phold8 for inspiring me to continue w this chapter haha. If any of you like the anime 'Fairy Tail', go check out her profile! ))

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Scott stepped tentatively into the water.

"Of course it is," Vincent called out from the middle of the lake, paddling the water. "This has to be the most secluded part of the entire arena. I bet nobody else even knows it's here."

"Apart from all of Panem," Scott muttered under his breath, but sighed, reaching down to grab the hem of his shirt. He hesitated for a moment. Did he really want his skinny, pale, underfed body being televised live? He'd almost dropped stone dead when Vincent took his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach and firm chest.

"Come on," Vincent shouted. "This might just be the only bath you get for the entire games!"

Scott snorted with laughter. Somehow, washing himself had been the last thing on his mind recently. Deciding it was more than likely the cameras were busy with something else - there was probably some fight to the death going on elsewhere - he steeled himself and pulled his shirt up and over his head, throwing it aside.

He glanced back at Vincent quickly, trying to gauge some kind of reaction from him, whether it be positive or negative, but the other tribute's face was unreadable. Scott wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, but at least he wasn't making any unkind comment about his appearance. He looked down at himself and grimaced. His stomach was caving inwards, each of his ribs poking out. That'd be right, he thought sourly to himself. Make it to the last few tributes and then /starve/ to death. Gawd, they were all right about me. I'm hopeless.  

Taking a deep breath and pushing his thoughts out of his mind, he waded further into the lake, watching as the murky water rose from around his toes to his ankles, then further up to his knees and finally to his waist. It was so cold that it was hard to breathe. He was about to take another step when he halted suddenly, realising that the lake dropped away abruptly. He looked up at Vincent, "It- How deep is it?"

"I dunno," Vincent looked down at the water, contemplating for a moment, and then suddenly disappeared with a splash.

Scott flinched as the freezing cold water washed against his stomach. All was silent for a while, apart from the rippling water, before Vincent reappeared, shaking droplets out of his hair. "It's about as deep as two of me. Which shouldn't be a problem, seeing as you seem to think I'm pretty shallow." He laughed at his own joke.  

Scott didn't join in the laughter. Twice as tall as Vincent? Vincent had to be 5'7. That placed the lake at around 11'4! Almost three times Scott's measly height of 5 feet. "Oh."

Vincent's laughter died away, he cocked his head curiously, "What? Can't you swim? That's fair enough. There's not really many swimming centres in Panem, apart from in the Capitol. I can teach you, if you like."

"No... No, I can swim. Back in District 11, we all used to swim at the places where the animals drink. But..." Scott glanced down at the surface of the lake, only just able to make out the lake floor.

"But what?" Vincent asked, apparently oblivious to what Scott was trying to silently communicate. He followed Scott's gaze to the murky water, "Are you worried about infection? You shouldn't be. It tastes fresh. I don't think there's much risk of getting sick."

Scott looked up at him incredulously, "Are you really that thick?" He hissed, "I... I'm scared of water, okay?"

"What?" Vincent recoiled slightly, his violet eyes wide. "Scared? Of water? But... what's wrong with water?"