Willow's jaw went slack for just a moment, and then the colour drained from her face, leaving her completely ashen, her eyes suddenly huge and gleaming like polished emeralds.
"How could you!" she screamed, not remembering the need for discretion, and even if she had, in that minute, she wouldn't have cared.
"Ssshhh!" Delta hissed.
"No, I will not 'ssshhh'!" Willow's voice caught in her throat as she tried to hold in a sob. "You knew how I desperately I wanted to talk to him, you knew I needed to make sure he didn't think I was using him, and you've sent him away?"
"He's distracting you!" Delta argued, her grey eyes flashing, and Willow glared at her incredulously.
"Well, it's going to distract me a whole lot more now, isn't it?" she hollered in response.
"Because you'll let it!"
Willow stared at her mentor long and hard.
"You promised you wouldn't stand in the way... You promised..."
Delta felt the determination leave her when she saw the misery, and the unmistakable glimmer of tears, in her charge's green eyes, thinking they looked very much like Caesar Flickerman's had done just a few moments before.
"You need to concentrate on the Games," she said softly.
Willow slowly shook her head.
"No, I don't... I need to make sense of what's going on... I need to go into the arena knowing what's happening between Caesar and I..."
Delta didn't try to stop Willow when she placed defiant fingers on the doorknob, made no attempt to prevent her exiting the room, and when the mentor didn't follow her, Willow made a dash for elevator. No lights, it wasn't moving... The back staircase! Willow darted recklessly down to each floor in the hope of discovering Caesar still wandering away.
Peering over the rail, she saw a flash of jay-blue disappearing through the door of floor two, and her feet began to fly so fast she was in danger of tumbling.
Wrenching open that same door, still running, not daring to stop, she frantically called out to him.
"Caesar!"
The shuffling ahead of her paused, continued, stopped again, and she almost collided with him as she rounded the corner at the top of the first floor staircase, making them both gasp in surprise, in spite of the fact they had each known the other was there.
"Willow..."
The emotion in that solitary word was enough to make her throw herself against him. Their arms closed around each other, and he buried his face in her hair, murmuring, "Delta said you didn't want to see me."
"Delta was speaking for herself," Willow replied harshly. "She knew I wanted to see you, knew I wanted you..." She trailed off when he held her tighter, relaxing into him, feeling the anxiety seeping away. "She said you're distracting me..." Caesar kissed the top of her head, and she knew that her mentor was right, he was a distraction, and she didn't care. She did, however, realise in that instant that Delta genuinely wanted to help her, and had thought keeping her away from Caesar would be for the best. She just didn't understand that wasn't how Willow worked.
"We'd better go upstairs," Willow muttered into his black silk tie. She didn't share her reasons with him, but the last thing she needed right now was for Jewel, Bourne or Mace to discover her wrapped in Caesar's arms half a day before she was due to astound the gamemakers with what she'd learned over the past few days. The careers would probably alert the entire tower!
She took Caesar's fingers in her own, leading him back up the five flights of stairs to floor seven, where they were both surprised and apprehensive to discover Delta waiting at the door to the apartment.
Willow gripped Caesar's hand even more firmly when she saw her mentor, and Delta regarded them both with a resigned expression as Caesar instinctively stepped forward so Willow was behind him.
"You two are fools," Delta said irritably, "Absolute fools."
Willow pushed herself past Caesar, her head held high.
"I'm going to talk to Caesar now," she said, in a tone that almost dared Delta to stop her entering the room.
And with that, still clinging to Caesar's hand, Willow strode into the apartment, and headed straight for her quarters.
Even though he would never have decided differently, the Master of Ceremonies didn't have any choice but to follow her, and he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed as Willow locked the door, gazing around in amazement.
The Training Tower was the one place in the Capitol that even he wasn't allowed access to, despite constant petitions to President Snow from the producers of his show. The President wouldn't even allow them to go in once the tributes had left. Now, here he was, not only in the Centre itself, but inside one of the apartments assigned to the Hunger Games tributes, and he couldn't tell a single soul.
Willow turned back to him, and Caesar looked up at her curiously.
"So..." he began slowly. "Is it true, what everyone's saying? Was it all part of the show?"
The hurt shone clear as day on her face. Either Willow Monroe was a consummate actress, or everything she had done with him, she had done because she wanted to, not even stopping to think it may be misconstrued as an act.
"Part of me wants to say 'yes, it was', because as act would be so much simpler than the truth right now..."
Caesar watched her, trying to gauge her thoughts, trying to decide if the young woman he had met and fallen for was who Willow really was, or if everything she had done from the reaping to this very moment was for show.
She drew in a shaky breath, and sat down beside him, those beautiful, luminous eyes never leaving his face.
"When I watch the Hunger Games - we have to watch them, y'know?"
Caesar nodded. "So do we."
"When I watch them, I look at everybody, and the only person who ever seems to truly care about the tributes is you... Your eyes are always so kind, no matter how angry or sad the tributes are, however much they openly hate you... And then I met you, and I knew I was right: You're probably the only person in this God forsaken place that cares about us at all." She stopped, but he remained silent, somehow sensing that she wasn't finished yet.
"So, was it all an act?" She paused again, gazing deep into the eyes that had first captured her attention, needing him to understand, needing him to know that it was him she wanted, him she needed, not his position, not his protection, just him.
"None of it was an act."
Caesar believed her. And immediately a miniscule part of him wished she had lied, wished that she'd answered with the phrase, "Yes, it was all an act", because that would have been so much easier, practically at least, to deal with, but, at the same time, he knew he would never have been able to handle hearing that, not after what had taken place between them the previous night.
His mind slipped back twenty-four hours, to the very second his lips had first met hers. Her body had been so soft, and sweet, and supple beneath his fingers, her mouth so eager against his, that he found himself suddenly focusing on her moistened lips as she parted them to speak once again.
Willow completely forgot what she was going to say as Caesar leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, slowly and assertively kissing away the nerves, the fears, the frustrations of the day, and it wasn't very long at all before she melted into his arms, pushing herself against him, her mouth just as warm and inviting to him now as it had been the first time.
As their kiss deepened, Caesar eased Willow back into the coolness of the covers, and she pulled him down so he was half-kneeling over her. He held her hands above her head, pressing them gently into the bed, so she couldn't touch him until he wanted her to, determined to savour every minute, every second, he had with her.
She arched up to meet him in exasperation. He allowed her to press herself against him, but he didn't push back. Instead, he kissed her hungrily, feeling her body growing more and more taut with anticipation, but it wasn't until she began to groan with need that he finally, and excruciatingly slowly, began to slide his fingertips along the pale skin of the insides of her arms, and started to unfasten her shirt, button by button, pausing between each one to kiss or run his tongue over the soft flesh he had uncovered.
Willow begged Caesar to hurry up, but at the same time she pleaded with him to slowdown... She wanted it to end, and yet she never wanted it to stop... Every single caress was amazingly, beautifully, frustratingly sweet, and Willow's head began to spin as Caesar reached the final button, and his mouth pressed butterfly kisses from her belly button to the low waistband of her trousers.
He pushed her hands gently away as she attempted to reach for the fastenings, heard her begin to pant when he started easing the zip gradually downwards with a single finger, feeling her body tensing further with every inch, and she wasn't able to contain a moan when he pulled the fabric apart and allowed his head to drop lower.
Her hips bucked up as his lips grazed the exposed, lace-covered V of her pubic region, and he used the movement as an opportunity to slip her linen trousers off her hips, allowing them to slide unnoticed to the floor, and leaving her sprawled before him in underwear that left the bare minimum to the imagination, a matching black bra that pushed her breasts temptingly upwards, and an open aqua-blue shirt. Her flaming hair streamed out around her, and those green eyes were watching him as he looked at her, drinking in every contour, every detail of her body, her face, and his fingers followed his gaze, trailing over the soft flesh of her breasts, her stomach, backup her torso, her throat, finally tracing the outline of her lips, just as he had done the previous night.
This time, though, she caught his hand in hers, holding it in front of her face, and her unblinking gaze never left his as she kissed each of his fingers, his palm, drawing a sigh from him as she leaned up on her elbow, and pushed him into the mattress unbuttoning his jacket as she did so.
Willow wasn't as patient as Caesar, so she didn't prevent him shrugging off his jacket, nor did she stop him when he loosened his tie, but as soon as his fingers reached for the top button of his shirt, she batted his hands away, holding his forearms down as her leg slid over his waist, her slender form following so she was sat astride him once again.
She leaned forward, her hair rippling over their faces in a waterfall of raspberry-scented sleekness, and she kissed him, an urgent kiss full of hunger and desire, and then her teeth nipped gently, unexpectedly, at his lower lip, causing him to suck in a ragged breath, and when she was finally sure he wasn't going to move his hands, Willow slowly released Caesar's arms, kneeling up so her fingers could move straight to his hips, where she tugged gently and his black silk shirt slipped easily from his waistband.
She gazed down at him, and those warm brown eyes, filled with lust, and need, and something else Willow couldn't name, looked straight back into hers.
Her hands ran under his shirt, feeling the firm muscles beneath her fingers, and her hands reappeared, heading straight for the buttons she had prevented him from undoing just moments before, her eagerness to see him naked, in that instant, firmly overriding her need to savour every little moment.
Her trembling fingers struggled with the tiny buttons, but eventually she was able to pull his shirt open, and her eyes feasted on the lightly tanned skin therein, her fingers following, just as his had with her.
She felt his body jerk when her groin rubbed against his as she shuffled backwards so that her legs were spread wide across his, and then she proceeded to slide an inquisitive finger under his waistband, flicking open both the button that was on show, and the one that was concealed.
His arms moved downwards, his fingers biting into the soft flesh of the insides of her thighs as she, agonizingly slowly, unzipped him and her fingers slipped inside his trousers, curling around his erection, gently easing it from its constraints. He pulsated in her hand, and her head shot downwards before he even realised what was happening.
"Oh, my God!" Caesar groaned, and as the warm wetness of her mouth enveloped his straining member, his fingers tangled in the curtain of red hair, and he was unable to stop himself pushing her head downwards so she would take more of him between her lips.
She licked, she sucked, she circled the tip with her tongue, until he pulled her away, wrenching her upwards and rolling over so he could pin her to the bed. He held her hands above her head again, one of his hands gripping hers together by the wrists, his free hand somehow managing to pull off her shirt and release her breasts from the confines of her bra.
She gasped when his lips found each breast in turn, holding one nipple and then the other tenderly between his teeth as his tongue skimmed over them, and her fingers clutched at his shoulders, and her head fell back when his mouth moved downwards, tasting her through the lace of her underwear, trying not to be too astounded or pleased by how wet she was already.
She moaned aloud again when he slid a finger between the damp gusset of her underwear and her sensitive body, gently stroking back and forth until her thighs began to quiver, and he watched in amazement as her womanhood began to tense in front of his very eyes, her flesh rippling as her orgasm rushed over her.
She was groaning, gasping, her fingers clawing at his shoulders, trying to pull him upwards, and what she wanted was more than obvious.
He kicked off his trousers whilst simultaneously roughly ripping her underwear down her legs, then he reared over her, sinking his body as deeply into hers as he could possibly get, feeling the wetness of her body encasing him, dragging him in, tempting him into his own release.
"Caesar!"
The combination of the need in her voice, the heat of her body, and the fire in her eyes sent Caesar tumbling over the edge, and he called out in some kind of pleasure-induced agony as he buried himself inside her, clinging to her, shuddering violently in her arms as he collapsed against her equally drained form.
Neither of them even attempted to move for what seemed like hours, and when they eventually did, it was only for Caesar to push himself up and roll onto his back, tucking his arm around her shoulders, and for her to curl herself against his inert body.
They remained like that, whispering softly to one another, until they could see purple streaking the sky, and that was how they fell asleep, both of them completely forgetting that he wasn't supposed to be there.
Caesar found himself being shaken awake in far too short a time, the urgent eyes of the avox meeting his when he eventually managed to persuade his eyelids to open.
Willow jerked awake when Caesar flew upwards, and the three of them stared at one another in panic.
The avox beckoned to the Master of Ceremonies, trying to hurry him along, and that morning, Caesar dressed quicker than he ever had in his life, shoving his tie into the pocket of his trousers.
Bending to kiss Willow tenderly, he whispered, "Good luck with the gamemakers, show them what you're made of."
"Will I see you later?" Willow murmured, a lazy smile on her face.
"Just let them try and stop me," he winked.
And with that, Caesar crept out of the room behind the avox, and although he gave no outward sign on his return, the avox's swift glance over the breakfast bar was enough to tell Willow that all was well, nobody had discovered their secret.
