She couldn't breathe—the air around her was suffocating. Lips slightly parted, her mouth had gone dry. There was a muffled roaring in her ears as she tries to process what she just heard. She stood unmoving, only able to blink. Time had stopped. Surely this was all a bad dream. Or perhaps she had heard wrong? Only hearing what she was dreading to hear? No, no. This couldn't be real.

The high-pitched voice cut through the silence with an ahem.

"Emma Swan," the accented voice repeated.

Emma blinked once. Twice. Suddenly she felt the sympathetic eyes of the crowd focused on her. Emma took a steadying breath before she felt her feet shuffle forward of their own accord. She kept her eyes to the dirt. Maybe if she didn't look the speaker in the eye she could still pretend this was not happening at this very moment. A million thoughts ran through her head. She was so close to escaping this. She only had to endure one more year and she would have been free. Her mind jumped. What would happen to her parents? Would they offer her words of hope as they always did? It would be pointless in this situation. Surely even they knew that. Emma's thoughts were cut short because the next moment Emma found herself on the stage. In a daze, she raised her eyes to the pastel-clothed woman before her. Emma tried to focus her sight. This was really happening.

"Come, come, dear. Face the crowd and stand proudly. This is quite the honor."

Emma rotated slowly and finally looked out over the crowd—her friends, her family. She searched for them in the mass. Her eyes locked onto her parents'. They were holding each other with somber expressions on their faces. Her eyes roamed over to her friends scattered in the crowd—Ruby, Neal, Elsa. Their sorrowful eyes and frowns made Emma aware of just how bad the situation was.

"And now, the boys," the woman—Effie—declared.

Effie placed her manicured hand into the glass bowl and retrieved the slip of paper of the boy who would share Emma's fate.

Unfolding the paper, Effie announced in a clear voice, "Graham Humbert."

Graham. Emma knew of him. He was a loner. No family. Few friends. He lived in the forests of District 7, seldom coming to town. She ran into him a few times in the marketplace. He was a man of few words. In fact, she could count the conversations she's exchanged with him on one hand.

Emma watched as Graham, who also seemed reluctant to accept this reality, slowly made his way to the stage to join her.

Graham's body was rigid as he stood on the other side of Effie, not that Emma could blame him. The situation they found themselves in was hardly a good one.

"Congratulations to this year's tributes from District 7!" Effie's voice rang out.

The crowd answered with scattered polite applause and solemn looks, knowing that at least one of them wasn't returning. The anthem of Panem floats over the mass triumphantly—a stark contrast to how Emma feels in this moment. Emma steals one more glance at her parents before she is being ushered to the large oak doors behind her. Emma and Graham are escorted to separate rooms and are told to wait for any family and friends to come say goodbye before they would be taken to the Capitol.

Emma paced nervously around the lavish room for what felt like hours before the door swung open. Emma glanced up and registered briefly that it was her parents before they both came rushing at her and embracing her in a tight hug. Emma's mother, Mary Margaret, had her arms wrapped around Emma's back while her father, David, cupped Emma's head in a caring gesture while his other arm swung around to hold his wife close. They stood like that for a minute before Emma choked out, "Mom. Dad." It was the first time Emma had spoken since the reaping and her voice sounded strained. Apparently, she's not as calm as she pretended to be on stage.

"We're here, Emma," soothed Mary Margaret.

Emma let out a sigh and hugged her parents tighter.

"I'm scared." She whispered.

"It's okay to be," her father spoke as he swayed them back and forth.

"I guess this is goodbye."

Mary Margaret pulled back from the embrace and cupped Emma's face. She stared intently at her green eyes. "No, it's not, Emma. We will see you again. You've got to have hope."

"I don't think hope is going to help me with this."

"Emma." She turned to look up at her father. "You are the toughest, most resourceful person I know. If anyone can make it back, it's you." He offered her a small smile and a confident gaze.

Emma can only nod because really what do you say when your world has been turned upside down within the hour? The peacekeeper arrives to signal the end of their session. Emma quickly embraces her parents once more, trying to put all her feelings into this one last gesture. "I love you."

"We love you too, sweetheart."

"So much."

Her parents slip from her grasp and exit the room. Emma stands alone staring at the closed door, trying to remember as much as she can about her parents.

The door opens once more. This time it's her friends. Ruby and Elsa rush up to hug Emma and chatter simultaneously about how much they love her and how she'll get through this. Neal hangs back all the while until the two girls have calmed down. He walks over to the group and gives Emma a hug as well.

"This isn't over. We'll see each other again."

Emma smiles ruefully at her friends before the peacekeeper comes to take them away as well.

A short moment later the peacekeeper returns to take Emma to the train station. They collect Graham from his room on the way to the car. Emma wonders if the lone wolf had any visitors to say goodbye to. Would anyone miss him?

On the high-speed train, Emma leaves her quarters to head to the dining cart. They had left the forests of District 7 roughly an hour beforehand. When Emma opens the sliding door to the cart Graham is already there. Their eyes meet before Emma awkwardly moves to take the seat next to him at the dinner table. She thinks of what to say to the hunter. Every line seemed to fall flat because were there right words to say when you are heading at 120 miles per hour to your death? Emma finally settles for a simple "hi" to which Graham turns his head toward her with a nod.

"Hi."

Emma gives a small smile and turns her attention to the empty plate in front of her. She fidgets nervously with her hands in her lap. A few minutes later she hears the wooshing of the sliding door and looks up to see Effie and her clicking heels making their way to the table. She smiles brightly at the two tributes.

"Ah it's so good to see fresh faces for another exciting year."

The two tributes stare at Effie wordlessly. Emma feels her stomach turn.

The door wooshes again when one of their mentors for the games enters. She's an older woman. Stout, glasses, a fierce look in her eyes. Granny Lucas. Emma recalls the woman winning the games a few decades ago. She is quite handy with the crossbow, taking down animals and tributes alike. Oh gosh. Could Emma kill someone in cold blood? Her mother always believed that killing changed a person. That they went dark. But surely if it's in self defense one wouldn't go dark, would they? She felt uncertain about taking a life but supposed that if it came down to it, if she were in danger, if she wanted to return home to see her parents, her friends, she could do it. She had people to live for. People she loved.

Granny interrupts her thoughts as she sits at the table. She levels a gaze at both Graham and her over her spectacles. Emma swallows. The woman struck quite an intimidating image despite her advanced age.

"Well you two look like you have more potential than last year's tributes," she sighs.

Emma and Graham glance at each other. "Uh, thanks?" Emma supplies at last.

Granny smirks and looks away.

"Where is that troublemaking mentor?" Effie huffs.

"I wouldn't mind him. He'll show up eventually."

"Fine," Effie sighs and with a clap of her hands, "Bring out the first course."

As the group feasts on the decadent meal, Effie animatedly chatters about what to expect in the Capitol. Emma half listens to her babbling and nods every now and then.

By the third course, Emma is overstuffed. She's pretty sure she's never eaten this much in her life. Effie is in the middle of telling them about how she suspects they will be absolutely tickled by what their stylists have designed for them when the cart door slides open and a young man not that much older than Emma swaggers in. Effie stops mid-sentence and purses her lips in disapproval as she glares at the second mentor. Everyone from the table looks up and inspects the newcomer. Emma takes note of his nonchalant stance. Her eyes roam up to his scruffy face. His dark hair is tousled like he woke up looking that good. He's wearing a smirk like he knows just what kind of entrance he makes. He's handsome she admits. She's seen him before at the reapings looking none too interested. But up close, she realizes just how attractive he is. Her eyes run down the length of his toned arms before she reaches where his left hand should be. Instead she's staring at a gleaming hook.

She had watched his games a few years ago. With only two tributes left in the arena, he had bided his time. The other victor had grown inpatient and his supplies were running low. The young tribute from District 4, Peter Pan, sought out District 7's tribute and engaged him in a thrilling duel. Pan had managed to slice off his opponent's left hand. He howled in pain and while Pan was basking prematurely in his assumed victory the other young man pierced Pan's heart with his cutlass. It was a victory the Capitol and the districts wouldn't soon forget. When he returned to the Capitol he had the deadly hook fashioned in a brace to replace his missing left hand. His reputation struck fear and awe in those he passed. The people in the Capitol had taken to calling the victor Hook after his appendage. A name that warned others not to mess with him. And they didn't. Which is why he usually kept to himself in District 7.

"Killian!" Effie screeched. "You're late," she tutted.

Unshaken by Effie's outburst, Hook raised an eyebrow amused. "Apologies, love." He gave a slight taunting bow before taking his seat next to Granny Lucas, piling his plate with the abundance of food still left on the table, and proceeding to eat as if nothing was wrong.

Emma had a feeling Hook had only delayed to annoy Effie. It was like he got enjoyment from watching her fuss.

"Well, now that we're all present let's go over our plans for once we arrive in the Capitol."

While Effie droned on, Emma took a curious peak at Killian who seemed to have paused his meal to give her an appraising stare. He gave her a quick wink and a smirk when he noticed her attention shift to him. Blushing, she rolled her eyes and looked back to Effie. She heard his soft chuckle which only made her blush creep up to ears.

From time to time when Effie wasn't looking Emma spotted Killian sneaking a swallow from a flask he kept inside his leather jacket. Emma didn't know what it was, but apparently it was something that Effie wouldn't approve of.

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully. That is until she's headed to her sleeping cart. Tired from this long, long day—had the reaping only been this morning?—she's almost to her cart when he steps up to her. Suddenly, he's way too close standing toe to toe with her with his arms crossed. She takes a step back. That's better. She levels him with a questioning look. All the while he gives her a toothy mischievous grin.

"Yes?" she asks impatiently.

"Hmm. We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Killian. Killian Jones."

"Uhh, I'm Emma Swan."

"Emma," he muses.

Emma searches his face waiting for him to continue. It's then that she notices his blue eyes. She's never seen the ocean for herself, but she's seen pictures in books. Always longing to go like it was calling to her. She imagines that his eyes must be what the ocean is like. Clear and blue. As beautiful as she dreamed.

"So, Emma, it would seem we will be spending quite some time together in the next few days…time spent getting to know each other. So just who are you, Swan?"

Emma stared back with her mouth slightly agape because seriously who was this guy? She recovered quickly before flashing an all-too-knowing smile and disappearing into her room with an "Wouldn't you like to know?" clicking the door shut behind her.

Killian's eyebrows shot up in amusement and answered, "Perhaps I would." He lingered at the door a bit longer before shaking his head and heading down toward his quarters.

Emma woke to the sunlight streaming through her cart window. She quickly dressed and left for the dining cart.

While everyone sat and ate breakfast Effie tittered on about how she absolutely can't wait for Graham and Emma to lay eyes on the Capitol. It was so much more impressive than their trees and dirt apparently.

Emma gave Graham a quizzical look. Graham replied with a shrug before returning to munch on his raspberry scone.

So Emma decides to do the same and listens to Effie go on about the latest fashions in the Capitol. Although she's pretty sure that no one at this table is even remotely interested in Capitol couture.

Next thing Emma knows Effie is bolting out of her seat heading to the front of the train calling out behind her that she needs to talk to the driver about how much longer it will be before they reach their destination.

"Finally." Granny Lucas huffs without looking up from the slice of toast she is buttering with a little too much force. "Of all the escorts we had to get stuck with, it had to be Miss Prissy Pants."

"Granny! I thought you only had a soft spot for me." Killian quipped.

Granny Lucas levels Killian with an annoyed look that was betrayed by her small smile. That only makes him grin wider as he leans back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head.

"So what's the Capitol really like?" Emma asks.

"The usual excess of pomp and grandeur," Killian exclaims with a flourish of his hand.

"Are they all as…enthusiastic as Effie?"

"No," Granny snorts, "but most are just as frivolous."

"And vexing."

"These are the same people we're supposed to be getting to sponsor us?" Graham chimes in.

"Unfortunately yes, mate."

Emma sighs. Great. Just how was she supposed to charm these people? She's sure Killian had no trouble when he was in the games with his dashing smile and smooth words. Emma was pulled from her thoughts as a gleam of light flashed through the cart.

Everyone looked up at once to see the shining Capitol buildings come into view.

They had made it.

Emma and Graham rose from their seats and crossed to the window. The city was more pristine than she had imagined as they zoomed closer to the city center.

Emma collapses onto her soft bed with a sigh. She's been running nonstop since they got to the Capitol. After being plucked and primped, she was whisked away to the opening ceremony. Then it was three days of practice in the training center a couple floors below her. She had learned to use various weapons, hand-to-hand combat, and how to build a fire. The tracking station she had down pat. She had been accompanying her father in the forests of District 7 since she was three. At that her heart squeezed. This is the longest she's ever not seen her parents. She wonders if they're alright, if they worry for her. She closes her eyes and remembers her mother's kind smile, her father's ringing laugh. A tear rolls down her face that she wipes away as she rolls over onto her back.

Staring at the ceiling's ornate molding, she thinks about how much she wishes she were home. She thinks about the clear air as she treks through the familiar forests. She thinks about how her parents and she would sit around their cozy fireplace at night and make up stories because fairytales were better than oppressive life in Panem. And this time she can't stop the tears that fall. She knows she is probably never seeing them again. She curls onto her side and softly cries herself to sleep.

A loud knock at her door startles her from her slumber. With wide eyes she looks at the clock on the nightstand. 6:03. She had been asleep for two hours.

"Emma, we're all waiting for you to come to dinner," Effie's muffled, accented voice carries through the door.

Emma drags a hand over her face. "I'll be right there."

The following morning having been sated from delectable Capitol gourmet, Effie announced that she and the mentors would be preparing Graham and Emma for their interviews.

"Swan, you're with me."

Emma groaned. Why couldn't she have been paired with Granny Lucas?

"Don't worry, Swan, you'll get your turn with Granny when you're done with me."

How did he know what she was thinking?

Emma got up to follow Killian to the next room. She gave one last backward glance to see Graham trailing after Granny Lucas before the automatic door slid closed behind her.

Her eyes found Killian's who was standing a little too close.

"Well, Swan, we've got the next couple of hours together alone. Plenty of time to spruce up your interviewing skills and other activities," Killian said with a suggestive raise of his eyebrow.

Emma let out an exasperated sigh. "Do you flirt with all the girl tributes from our district?"

"Only the most beautiful ones."

Emma let loose a hard eye roll. He annoyed her. She needed to survive dang it. Why wouldn't he take this seriously?

"Aren't you supposed to be helping me with my interview?" she snapped.

Killian clicked his tongue. "Patience, Swan, we'll get there," he teased playfully. "Do you know why we need to prepare for this interview?"

Emma opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came. Sure, she needed to garner sponsors to help her in the games but why they had to practice talking to some mindless Capitol reporter she hadn't a clue. "Uhh, I don't know."

"Sponsors mean gifts. And those gifts could very well save your life in that arena. Your training score may have been good, but tomorrow is your chance to get sponsors to really notice you—to root for you."

Last night they had all sat around the screen to watch the training scores be announced. She had received an 8 which wasn't bad. However, she knew it wasn't enough to make her stand out.

Okay he was right. She needed help. "So what do I need to do?"

Killian stroked his bearded chin in thought. "Well, given your not-so-affectionate nature I'd say we take advantage of your prickly personality."

"Prickly?" Emma said in an affronted tone.

"Aye," Killian stated simply.

"Well if I'm so prickly, how is embracing that going to help me stay alive?"

"You're quite feisty, Swan. You don't back down from a fight. Your persistence is just what is needed to show the Capitol and other tributes that you're a formidable opponent. If they see that, you may have some wealthy sponsors in your corner, if only to keep you alive longer for their amusement."

Emma stared at him speechless. Had he just complimented her? Well he was her mentor. He was supposed to help her win, right? And if that meant bolstering her confidence, then it meant nothing more. "Okay. This could work."

After two hours of discussing Emma's angle for the interview and practicing responses, Killian decided it was time they take a break. They sat on the small flight of stairs that led down to the inset cut deep into the floor of the room. Emma let out a tired sigh. How was she going to remember all they had gone over until tomorrow night? She saw him hold something out to her from the corner of her eye. She turned to find inches from her face his flask smelling of rum.

"Is rum your solution to everything?" she asked bewildered.

He smirks back. "Well it certainly doesn't hurt."

"Aren't you a little young to start a drinking problem?"

The corner of his lips lowers to set a grim line. His twinkling eyes go dull as he moves his gaze to the floor. "It's the only thing that helps with the pain."

The air in the room shifted to something more somber. "What do you mean?"

He sighs. There's silence between them. She waits for him to say something first, quietly signaling that she wanted to hear what he had to say.

"I despise these games." He spits out.

"Because of what they did to you?" Emma said, glancing down at his gleaming hook at the end of his left arm.

"Because of what they do to all of us." He retorts, eyes hardening.

They were quiet again. These games had been a source of pain and fear for the citizens of Panem for decades. Her people taken to the arena like animals for slaughter. All for the sick entertainment of the Capitol who had no idea of the hardships the rest of the country faced as they donned their ridiculously colorful and impractical attire and stuffed themselves with more food in one meal than Emma had seen in a week back home. She couldn't blame Killian for his disdain. It really was a game—a twisted mental game to punish the districts for their disobedience.

Lost in her own thoughts, Emma almost didn't notice Killian speaking again.

"They didn't just take my hand."

Emma turned to him. She saw his whole face furrowed with pain.

"They took everyone I love away." They left me alone.

Emma reached out her hand to cover his.

"I lost my older brother, Liam. It was a few years before I was chosen as tribute. We had lost our parents when we were young so Liam always took care of me. He took tesserae every year to provide for us, but I was too young to take any at the time. He was reaped in his final year of eligibility." Killian paused to take a swig of rum.

"I watched every day to make sure he was still alive. Until one day he was hurt pretty badly in a scuffle with a tribute from District 2. He managed to subdue the lad, but if Liam didn't tend to his wounds soon, he would meet the same fate. He found a plant that he must have learned had medicinal properties during his training. But…" he paused again to swallow before he choked out, "it wasn't."

Emma stared at Killian with sympathy. She couldn't imagine what it was like to lose someone you loved. Her mind flashed to her parents. How would they go on if they lost her to the games?

"Dreamshade I think the commentators had said. He had confused that deadly poison with a similar-looking plant that could have saved him. I didn't want to watch, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen. I saw the light fade from his eyes. My brother, my family, was dead."

"Growing up without Liam was tough. Eventually I was reaped and I thought how cruel fate must be that I would be destined to the same end that took Liam. But as you know, I survived. And when you make it out alive from the games you get the pleasure of mentoring the next poor lot. You may leave the games, but the games never leave you." He scoffed. "Granny was my mentor. She took me under her wing when I was a tribute and she's probably the closest thing I have to family now. She mentored Liam too and I feel connected to him somehow through Granny. But it was my turn. My first year I mentored a tribute named Milah. She was a lot like you, Swan. She had a lot of fire." He smiled fondly at the memory.

"You cared for her."

"Aye. It was a dangerous thing to do and I knew it, but I couldn't help falling for her. When I watched that spear pierce her heart I felt like I was reliving Liam's death all over again."

Emma squeezed his hand.

"I vowed never to become attached to any tribute after Milah. I would do my job and leave the rest up to fate."

"That's why you act like you don't care. You want people to not like you."

"If I look out for myself and no one else, I can't get hurt," Killian admitted as he met Emma's eyes.

Emma nodded in understanding. They both slipped back into silence as they looked away. Emma decided to change the conversation to something that had been bothering her since she first stepped onto the train.

"Was it easy? The first kill?" she asked as she turned to him again.

"No. I had nightmares for months. And it doesn't get any easier."

The answer had been what she expected but not what she wanted to hear.

"I don't think I can kill anyone. Especially Graham. "

"Best let someone else do it then."

She really needed that drink. She moved her hand over his fingers to take the flask from him. Emma saw him raise both eyebrows at her as she took a long swallow of the burning rum before she handed the flask back to him.

"What if I fail?"

"You're not like the others, Emma. You're a tough lass." She looks up at him trying to find the falsehood in his eyes. After all hadn't he just said he was doing his job? But all she finds is sincerity. A small smile forms on her lips which he returns.

"It looks like your time with me is up," he stated as he stood up.

He offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Thanks. I guess I'm lucky to have you as a mentor for all this craziness."

"If there's one thing I excel at it's surviving," he remarks.

"Then give me some useful advice."

"Trust your gut, Swan, it will tell you what to do."

After what felt like hours with her prep team, Emma stepped out in a red ballroom gown. It was the night of the interview. She was a ball of nerves and if she didn't die of embarrassment by making a fool of herself out there, the corset that was currently threatening to rupture her spleen would certainly take her out. She was interrupted from her musings when Killian strided toward her. He looked her up and down approvingly before offering her his arm.

"You cut quite the figure in that dress, Swan," he said with a dazzling smile.

Emma blushed and somehow didn't have the slightest inclination to roll her eyes. Something between them had shifted since their talk the other day.

"Uhh, thanks."

He escorted her backstage as they waited for the interview session to begin. He stayed with her until it was her turn. Her anxiety was getting the best of her as she dug her fingernails into his arm. Sensing her nervousness, he leaned over and whispered assurances in her ear. He continued with witty comments throughout the other tributes' interviews which even managed to make her giggle. His company was slowly helping to take the edge off. Before she knew it it was her turn.

"You can do this," he said as she released his arm.

She stepped away from him and started to ascend the stairs. She gave him one last glance and saw him smiling back before she took a deep breath and walked into the bright lights of the stage.

"Smiles on" as Effie would say.

Emma trudges back to her room after the interview with the obnoxiously enthusiastic host Caesar Flickerman. She doesn't think she messed it up too badly and hopes someone will sponsor her. She's tired. Oh so tired. She just wants to close her eyes and put this day behind her. But falling asleep means waking up to the harsh reality. The inevitable Hunger Games. This is what the past week has come to. All the training, all the etiquette, all the fabrics, all the fake charming smiles. It didn't seem like it was enough to save her. She changed into her button-down PJs before sliding under the covers.

Sleep found her for a few hours before she awoke. She glanced at the clock nearby. 2:17 A.M. Wonderful. This may be her last night to get any decent rest. She turned over and tried to fall back asleep. She couldn't. She threw the covers off and stared at the ceiling. Thinking that maybe she needed to walk off whatever anxiety she was having about tomorrow, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and exited her room. She ambled down the dark hall and entered the common area. For awhile she looked out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows at the bright lights of the Capitol.

Sigh. Nope the anxiety wasn't waning. She walked toward the opposite hall and found herself in front of Killian's door. She didn't know why she had come here, but before she could stop herself she reached out and knocked gently.

"Killian?" she whispered.

A few seconds later the door slides open. She finds his blue eyes shining in the darkened space and takes in his disheveled hair as if he had been running his fingers through it over and over. She looks at him still not knowing why she's here. Her body swaying, contemplating whether she should stay or leave.

He nods in understanding and steps away from the doorway to let her in.

He came to stand in front of her eyeing her curiously. She shuffles her feet uncertainly. "I couldn't sleep. This is it. I may not live past tomorrow."

He steps forward to embrace her and rubs her back in a comforting manner. She wraps her arms around him in return. They sway there for awhile. His chest is firm beneath her cheek. It's the safest she's felt since leaving her district.

"You will make it, Swan."

"You really think so?"

"Aye."

Again all she sees is the honesty in his eyes. Her eyes flickered to his lips. His does the same. They both lean in at the same time and the press of his lips on hers warms her up. For a moment, she forgot her worries about what may happen in the arena and decides to just enjoy this moment. She feels him tug her closer and she feels herself leaning into his safe embrace more. They break apart and he lets out a warm puff of air that tickles her face. They stand wrapped in each other's arms for a time before Killian decides to break the silence.

"Do you want me stay up with you 'til you fall asleep?"

She looks up at him and nods. They pull apart long enough to move toward his bed. He pulls her close to him once they've settled. Emma lays her head on his chest and focuses on his steady breathing. He strokes her hair as she closes her eyes and lets sleep claim her once again.

Emma wakes up to Effie knocking on the door. "Up, up, up!"

Emma blinks. Today's the day. She hears the clicking heels of Effie fade away as she makes her way down the hall.

She lifts her head to stare at the sleeping Killian she's currently using as a pillow. She notices he looks freer somehow.

"Wake up, Killian!" Effie shouts with one last passing knock on his door—something she's been accustomed to doing ever since his tardiness that first day on the train.

He breathes in a sigh and slowly opens his eyes to find Emma staring at him. "Hey."

"Hey."

They gaze at each other a moment before Emma moves to get up.

"Guess I should go get ready."

He nods and gets up after she does.

She pauses in front of the door and spins around. "Thanks by the way."

"Anything for you, Swan."

She turns to leave but he grabs her arm and pulls her back for a searing kiss. She grabbed his shirt for purchase. She felt like she was on fire. It was like he was pouring every ounce of what he was feeling into their kiss. They part and are both left gasping for air. Breathing heavily, he's resting his forehead against hers.

"Come back to me, Emma."

"Okay." She opens her eyes and pulls away. As she gently traces her fingers over his face, she looks him over and tries to memorize him. His smile. His kiss. She notices that he's doing the same, only more intensely it seemed. He's looking at her like she's his light in this dark world that's dealt him a lonely life and she's the only one who can save him.

She slips from his embrace because she knows they've already used time that was never meant to be theirs. He lets his fingers linger as long as possibly as they slowly slide away from her arms. She's disappointed to learn that she already misses his warm touch.

She hears the door close shut as she hurries back to her room before Effie comes looking for her.

In the holding area she waits to enter the arena. She thinks about how much her life has changed in the last few days. She thinks of Killian before focusing on the task at hand. She needed to survive. She promised. She can't let him lose another person he cared about. She had given him hope. Yet, he also had given her hope when she had none. He believes she can do this. He had said it time and time again. And she will.

She feels herself being lifted to the arena.

Let the games begin.