The 100th Hunger Games- Fourth Quarter Quell

Chapter 43

Lawrence POV

A sting goes through my face. It burns red. I look in front to see her. My feisty partner who would do anything to just get her family out of the Games. The person who inspired me to train. The person who loved her bow and arrows. The person who... loved me.

She has a glare on her face, with her grey eyes glistening in the light. Her eyes are almost glazed, with tears on the verge of spilling over. She looks obviously guilty and she blinks uncontrollably. Nervous, she stares into my soul, almost saying,

"What the fuck were you doing?!"

She ignores me, shaking her head and walks towards Lance. He grabs her on the shoulders. She mutters,

"Come. Let's get the fuck out of here.I don't need the Psycho in my life."

Lance walks in front. She turns her head away from me just as I grab her shoulder to stop her. She tosses it back, just like the last time we had a conversation. She turns her head. From afar, I see that Lance has stopped his movement. He stares at our tension. And I avoid her eyes. Her eyes give this cold, icy stare that I can't face. I want to see her happy. Not her who hates me. Not her who would slap me for Lance.

She breathes heavily. Once. Twice. And whispers,

"For the last time," she says, clearing her throat, taking out a beautifully crafted knife, sticking it nearer and nearer to me. I back up, with the blade facing my ear and it's coming nearer and nearer. I'm so certain she's going to stab me for kicking an asshole in the abdomen. 

My back hits the wall. Just as that happens, her knife flies to my side. 

"I'm not owned by you." She finishes.

She steps over my legs and grabs the knife out of the wall. She shakes her head in disappointment and walks in front to Lance. He smiles at her and she smiles back. Suddenly, my heart sinks. Somehow, I felt I've lost.

I'm going to lose her. I'm going to lose. Congratulations Lance. You win.

~~~~~~~

Carmen POV

I might as well say that I chose Lance over Lawrence. Well, I don't know what I was doing when I saw that Lawrence had kicked Lance in the stomach for no valid reason. I slapped Lawrence. I slapped him on the cheek. I almost killed him with that knife. I can't say that I didn't have the intention to. Is this standing up for what this idiot's brain thinks is right, or is it choosing Lance over Lawrence? Does this mean I love Lance so much that I could actually rather commit murder than let him get hurt? Why didn't my common sense stop me? Why didn't I just listen to my gut instinct? It told me to stop. Drop the knife. Why did I only believe my instinct when it was almost too late to turn back?

Lance glances at me, with a worried expression plastered on his face. His eyes scan my expression, reading my mind. 

"Are you... okay?" He stammers.

"Yes." I say, lying through my teeth. 

I push open my compartment's door and we just sit on the bed. He winces in pain as I press on the abdomen.

"Sorry,sorry, sorry, sorry!" I exclaim and release pressure on his abdomen. He laughs at my reaction and I hit him on the head.

"Shut up or I'm calling the hovercraft's doctors. You wouldn't want to explain what had happened." I say. He nods and replies,

"Babe, why did you... You almost killed him."

"Just... I don't know how to explain... Just... Just turn around and let me do the healing, okay?" I say. He removes his shirt and i actually see the severity of the wound on his abdomen.