𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄 ▸ HUNGER GAMES [ 1 ]

FOURTEEN

FOURTEEN - 

My prep duo are right on time, bustling into the apartment behind Tallulah, who is sporting a bright silver wig piled high and adorned with brocade patterned teacups. I'm honestly astounded she can even hold her head upright.

The rest of us are eating breakfast at the table, Sidonia and Brutus chattering politely together opposite Cato and I. Neither of us utter a word throughout the meal, but his hand brushes against mine a couple of times, out of view. I have to hide my face behind my giant mug of coffee every time in the hope that it hides my blush. I'm already on my second cup of the morning, but I definitely need it after such a sleepless night. Plus I can barely last a minute without the thought of my evening on the rooftop drifting back into my mind. Cato lifting me into his arms, kissing me like I might be the only person left who matters.

But now is not the right time to be thinking of him.

Today, Sabetha and Tatiana will make us over for the interviews tonight, which means hours stretched out ahead of me with Augusta and Luciana. I decide I might just be able to put up with them long enough not to strangle them, if only they refrain from mentioning Cato's name entirely.

Much to my horror, however, it soon becomes apparent that Luciana is as captivated by him as I am. I listen to her ramble about how beautiful and glowing his skin is in the sun (true), how his eyes sparkle like chips of blue diamond (true) and how she wished he would hold her in those big, strong arms of his because it must feel amazing (absolutely, definitely, undeniably true). Augusta butts in at intervals, but only to commend the other members of the family on their looks. Most hauntingly, she even mentions Saren, the first Hadley sibling to volunteer for the Games.

Apparently Augusta has been part of 2's team for a long time, and she recounts Cato's sister's journey from opening ceremony to arena with fond delight. I'm sure she thinks nothing of it – it's clear most of the people here don't have the time for such things – but the whole conversation strikes me as decidedly morbid. Saren was killed pretty early on in her Games, despite being a favourite to win. Struck down by the bow which should have been hers to retrieve at the cornucopia.

Suddenly I am thinking of how little time I have left in the Capitol. This time tomorrow, my allies and I will have hopefully taken out a fair few of the tributes. A spike of adrenaline courses through my veins at the anticipation of the thrill. To feel my knives in my hands, to bring me one step closer to winning.

When I imagine myself on stage post-Games, President Snow placing the victors crown on my head, I do not think of Cato. For once, it is simply easier not to.

It is early afternoon when Sabetha arrives in the salon, a picture of at once both elegance and brutality, and as always completely decked out in white. I find myself comparing her to Sidonia, remembering them side by side in the stables after the opening ceremony. The mystical warrior princess and her majestic evil twin. Completely contrasted in every way.

Sabetha examines the work the preps have done to my hair and skin. Luciana has styled my dark waves into a waterfall crown of tiny knots about my head, the excess falling down my back in an elegant crinkled sheet. It's different, and as far from anything I would have chosen as she could have possibly gone for, but I can't deny that it works somehow. Paired with Augusta's excellent makeup skills - highlighting my cheekbones, dusting my eyes with glittering powder and elongating my lashes until I can feel them fluttering against my browbones – the overall effect is something I never could have pulled off myself.