Damir
I hear Dellirus' voice screaming 'I'm sorry' and I, for one, am shocked. That poor fool must really be going mad. He was always a pessimist and vengeful. Never satisfied. Is that what the arena does to people?

Clythe
I want my brother. Except I don't. I want someone. But I don't want to bring them here. To a place of nothingness. It scares me. I don't even know what. Maybe the killing. The deaths. The cries of horror and screams of the ultimate pain. Maybe it's the null space that I am trapped within.

This man, Veirshe, seems alright. Unfortunate really, that we have to meen under these circumstances. He seems older than my sixteen years, but in the end, does it matter? We sit and talk, and try to block out the rest of the world.

"Whats your name?"

"Clythe. What's yours?"

"Veirshe. So…"

"Hows your day going?" I ask snarky. He replies fine. "Mine has gone rotten."

"I'm sorry," he says slowly, as if he wasn't sure if I was upset or if I was just being…myself.

I give a little giggle at his confusion. He returns with a smile. A pause and I am at loss for words. I think back to the thousands of miniature romances of past arenas, and then Katniss and Peeta's romance, and I think theirs had no match for the potential here. Its sudden, but I like it. And after all, how much longer will we have to live? "I like you."

"I'm glad," he replies. I know we have come to the same conclusion.


Short chapter. The shortest yet I believe. But anyways, review if you've got time. :)

Damir will be coming back because he deserves more than five sentences XD. Next chapter probably :)
Comment on Clythe/Veirshe would be worthwhile.

Thanks for reading!
Marionettes