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

Fourteen.

Scott felt the loneliness crashing in on him all at once.

It was weird, perhaps, that the first thing that he noticed after Vincent had spoken was that they were now all alone. The only two living, breathing, thinking things in the entire arena. It seemed to envelop him, as though he'd suddenly been submerged in cold water.

He swallowed. Not looking away from Vincent, he whispered, "Do it. Do it now, please."

A look of something similar to pain crossed Vincent's face. He frowned and shook his head slightly, "No... I-I want one more night."

"What?" Scott flinched back, surprised. "Vincent, I-I don't want to have to stay awake all night worrying about what's going to happen. I don't want you to give me time to be able to panic. I want it to be quick, and I want it to happen now. Please, Vincent. Please."

"It's not easy for me!" Vincent snapped, glaring. He glowered at Scott for a few seconds before suddenly dropping his gaze. He groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "Scott, I don't just want it to end, just like that. I want one more night. One last night."

"It's not easy for me, either," Scott soothed. He crawled around the fire to stop in front of Vincent.  "Please, please kill me, Vincent. I'm begging you. I know- I know it's not easy, but... It's going to happen anyway. I just want to rip it off like a Band-Aid. Quick and painless. Then I can't worry about it anymore." Scott reached out in the dust, his fingers closing around the hilt of Vincent's knife. He dragged it back, lifting it up and pressing it against his own neck.

"Scott..." Vincent leaned forward, taking the dagger from Scott. He frowned slightly, looking concerned. There was a moment of tense silence, Scott's eyes staring pleadingly into Vincent's, before Vincent sighed, and drew the knife back.

Scott whimpered slightly, and closed his eyes, screwing them as tightly as he possibly could. All he could do was wait. Wait until he felt the knife connecting - piercing into his skin. He wondered if it would hurt, or if he would die before he could register the pain. And then he heard the clatter of the knife landing across the clearing.

He opened his eyes to protest, but all of a sudden Vincent grabbed him by the shoulder and launched forwards, his lips pressing hard against Scott's.

Scott's eyes sunk closed as Vincent cupped his face with his hands, tilting his head slightly to make the kiss deeper. That same gentle electricity flowed through him, the same fireworks and swirling feeling of euphoria. A kind of otherworldly serenity fell over Scott, calming him down and erasing all thoughts of panic from his mind. He wrapped his arms around Vincent's neck, pulling away for air for only a second before leaning in again.

They kissed like that for a few moments more, before Vincent pulled away to murmur, "One more night. Please."

Scott nodded just slightly, opening his eyes and gazing fondly at Vincent. "One more night, for old times' sake."

"Thank you," Vincent whispered, leaning in to steal one more gentle kiss before pulling away for good. "I know it's hard for you, Scott, but I just need one more night here with you."

"I understand," Scott gave the closest ghost of a smile that he could manage, given the dire situation. "As... as much as it hurts, I think I'll be glad to spend one last night with you, too."

Vincent stood up, brushing off the sandy dirt from his shirt and pants. That stuff got everywhere if you weren't careful. He walked over to their supply pack and unzipped it, pulling out handfuls of shiny black material. Their sleeping bag. "I guess... it's getting late."

"Oh, yeah..." Scott had a feeling neither of them were going to be able to fall asleep tonight. "Big day tomorrow, huh?" He joked, earning a half-hearted laugh from the other.

Vincent stepped out the last glowing coals of the fire. They resisted at first, but finally died out with an angry hiss. He threw the sleeping bag at Scott. "Do me a favour and lay that out, won't you, sweetie?"

Scott wrinkled his nose at the pet name, but obliged, lying the soft sleeping bag out in the dirt where he and Vincent had been sitting moments before. He pulled his shoes off, suddenly realising how tired he was. It was funny how, even when he was fully aware of the fact that he would die tomorrow, it didn't stop his body from craving sleep. In his opinion, sleep was a waste of his last 12 hours on this earth.

Vincent walked over to the sleeping bag and sat down on the other side of it, pulling off his own shoes as well. He wasted no time in sliding into the sleeping bag, and Scott followed suit, relaxing in the comfort and warmth of the fabric.

"Hey Vincent?" Scott asked.

"Yeah?" Vincent yawned sleepily.

Scott sighed, shifting and turning in the sleeping bag to face his boyfriend. "I'm glad it'll be you who won the games. I hope my family know that. I hope they, and all of District 11, and all of Panem know that. Out of everyone, you deserve it the most."

Vincent laughed at that, "You're funny, Scott. I'd say the same thing about you. You'd be the only tribute in the history of the games to survive while barely killing anyone."

"Mm," Scott shrugged slightly. "I never wanted to win the games. I just wanted to get picked off cleanly. I already knew I was going to die, so winning doesn't really interest me. I'm just... I'm glad I met you."

Vincent smiled, "I'm glad I met you, too."

Everything went silent for a while. Crickets chirped somewhere in the dewy grass around them.

"Scotty?"

Scott chuckled, "Nobody's ever called me that before. What is it, Vince?"

Vincent turned to look at him, and bit his lip. He shrugged kind of awkwardly, and Scott almost swore that he was flushed, despite the low light, "Do... Do you mind if... I cuddled you? For our last night."

Scott blinked a few times, honestly surprised. Vincent never ceased to amaze him. And then a small grin toppled onto his face and he barrelled into the other boy.

Vincent grinned, wrapping his arms around Scott and then pulling him up so he was lying on top of him, his legs lying in between Vincent's and his arms hanging uselessly either side of Vincent's body.

Scott was originally going to complain that this was an uncomfortable way to sleep, but soon he felt the warmth radiating off the other boy, his chest thrumming with the rhythm of his heartbeat. He never thought someone like Vincent would be comfortable, but he certainly was.

Vincent wrapped his arms around Scott's torso, hugging him close, and let out a content sigh, "Much nicer. This is how I want to remember you."

Scott hummed against Vincent's chest, turning his head sideways so that he could hear Vincent's heart thumping beneath him, "Me too."