I do not own the Hunger Games!
Athena's POV:
The next morning I am filled to the brim with lightness and happiness. Despite the constant worry over my sister, the events of last night cause a smile to push its way up onto my face that refuses to be suppressed. One even resisted being forced back as the guards chained my wrists and escorted me to the training room, where we would be finishing a final test-in front of everyone-and viewing the scores.
But I would be seeing Peeta again in a matter of minutes, and the smile I fought back creeped back onto my face every time my thoughts trailed to him. I even smile and wave at the guards as they hand me over to the District officials overseeing the training evaluations, and they stare back at me with "she is losing it" looks on their faces.
"What are you so happy about today, Princess? Are you just that eager to see me again." Even Brutus' stupid, intimidating comments cannot force away the smile plastered on my face. He scowls at me, noticing how unaffected I am to his words.
"Why yes, Bruno, I just could not contain my excitement for the chance to be graced with your spectacular presence." A smile still touching my lips as I spoke, while searching the room for Peeta. Will he come over and wish me good luck before all this starts, and maybe even give me a kiss on the cheek? When my eyes find his, will they light up in that secret, intense way they always do when we are near one another? The same way we looked at each other last night, as the darkness surrounded our bodies on the bed. I feel my stomach flutter at the memory of his hands gliding over my arms to my back in order to press me firmly against him, so that it felt like we shared the same body heat.
Suddenly, through all the crowd of Capitol tributes and District official's, I see him. My smile widens and I wait to feel the spark that flashes between us when we look at each other. He walks closer, ever closer and I swear by this point I can smell the sweetness of bread or whatever baked thing he made this morning. I want to whisper to him, something witty that will make his serious face crack the small smile I have admired so often.
And then he looks at me...and suddenly I do not feel like smiling anymore. In fact, the smile I had been fighting fades away into my heavy state of frustration and confusion. His blue eyes, once so full of dark intensity for me, shoot through me with a chilling look that makes me freeze. Then he continues walking without so much as a backward glance in my general direction.
I do not understand. I stare down at my hands, frowning. Though, what did I expect? He had succeeded in exactly what I feared, he'd made a fool out of me and pulled the wool over my eyes. The sad thing was I had seen it coming, and this was not the first time he had given me that look. The expression that screamed how much he did not care about me, the look all the District gives me-one full of loathing and disgust. Why would any of what we had shared in a cloak of darkness matter? Just because we kissed, held each other, and spoke like equals does not mean everything-or anything- had changed. The District hates the people of the Capitol, no exceptions.
But he had seemed so honest when he told me that he liked me, that he had wanted to kiss me all this time. Maybe he realized he had made a mistake in kissing me, that he did not really like me. I glare at the floor, it was all so damn confusing.
"Attention," Peeta's voice booms over the crowd and stimulates the audience into a hushed silence. "Everyone is here today to be evaluated in a final testing, it is to see how each one of you demonstrate the ability to work under pressure, or if you lack it. You will complete a short course in front of everyone before you today, and will show your capabilites-and/or limitations-to quick-thinking, reflexes, and strength. It is up to you to prove those abilities, and to prove yourself."
His voice fades off into the crowd and it is a voice that captivates anyone who listens, and I understand fully the force of how much my father wanted to either control or destroy this man. He had a powerful voice, one that held a crowd like no other person could. He is amazing. And he refuses to acknowledge me, or-and how I hate to admit it-my heart, which at this point feels like it is being crushed by a huge weight that is sitting on my chest.
A list of tributes names are presented and it is half-way through that my name is finally called, and silence follows my careful steps to the beginning of the course. Then it all beings, and I am running again.
The track is similar to the other training arena, however, when I reach the end I find something that causes my stomach to rise up in my throat.
A climbing rope.
The object to this course of action is to climb the rope as fast as possible until reaching the arrow hanging at the top. Then, once on the ground with the arrow safe and intact, you are too send it into the finishing target. So far, many have completed this task.
As I climb I try not to think, or allow myself to consider the trembling entering my hands and arms. Hell, the trembling was everywhere.
Then, as I hung up in the air with half of the rope staring down at me, I knew I was in trouble. The world swirl around me and I lost grip of the rope I was clinging to, meanwhile, bile rose up in my mouth and I was sure I was going to vomit while my body free-fell into the air below me.
I waited for my body to crash hard into the ground, to feel the horrible impact, and then it all stopped. My body had hit impact and I felt a sense of deja vu from when Peeta had caught me from falling before during training. And when I looked into the face of the person who had saved me I was almost certain it would be a pair of bright blue eyes that gaze back.
However that was not what happened because instead of blue eyes my eyes perceived grey. Instead, to my ultimate surprise, I met the eyes of Katniss Everdeen. To say I was stunned as she placed me carefully on my feet would be an understatement. A very big understatement.
"Snow!" My attention snaps to the angry yell of-to my further surprise-Peeta Mellark. "What the hell was that, Snow?" He storms up to me and I feel Katniss stiffen beside me, as if she too is wary of what is about to happen.
"I..." I trail off, clearing my throat, and realize everyone in the room is watching me. Watching me fail and be humiliated. "I could not-"
"You were weak that is what you were, all that training and you choked under the pressure. It was pathetic, you are being pathetic!" His scream echoes in the room, and I turn to look out at the crowd. Everyone now knows how pathetic I am, how weak, and I feel something rise up within me. At first I think it is the humiliation of this situation getting the best of me, that it was making me emotional. However, I realize too late that my control has reached its limit. Something in me breaks. Snaps.
I look at Peeta and I am so angry, so damn angry. My fist hurls out with a quickness that he-or anyone else watching-was ready for and my knuckles strike the adams-apple in his throat. So hard that the impact it shuts him up immediately, and he bends over coughing. Choking and heaving. Groaning.
He stares up at me, bent over and holding his hand to his throat. A cross between incredulous and pained look is on his face. I stare back with my chest still heaving from my slowly dissolving anger.
With one last look at Peeta, I walk over to the door in the engulfed silence, and knock twice before the guards agree to take me away.
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