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Uh… so, I intend on keeping this story T-rated. I won't go into too much detail but if you feel queasy, just skim past anything you're not comfortable with reading. For any future chapters, I'll put a warning in the Author's Note before the chapter starts.

XXVI. Raw

"What are you doing here?" is the first thing I ask when I enter the fourth storey of the Training Centre. Cashmere sits on the couch, picking at her nails in the same red dress I'd seen her coming out of Cordelius' office.

"What?" she replies. "I can't just visit you?"

"That's not what I meant."

"I was hoping to see you six months ago, you know? Turns out it was just Dylan and Naya. I mean, I don't mind them. They're just not as interesting as you. Plus, you're the only victor around our age."

"I was… sick. Anyway, you have Althea," I point out.

Cashmere pulls a face in response. "No," she states. "And you weren't sick. You were just recovering." She pulls out a sheet of paper and pencil, scribbling away as she speaks. "I was stuck mentoring with her. Gloss and Vanessa are expecting a baby."

She slips the piece of paper into my hand and I look down to read it.

Have you lost your virginity yet?

I take the pencil from her, drawing two sets of parallel lines: horizontal and vertical, setting out a tic tac toe layout. "Really? Same with Dean and Doc Audrye. How far along is Vanessa?" I draw a big fat X in the middle square.

She purses her lips, licking them slightly. "Around seven months. There's another two months before she pops, and she already looks like she's about to explode."

A chuckle escapes my lips as I lean over her shoulder to read what she wrote.

First kiss?

Almost ashamed, I hesitantly shake my head, a blush creeping up my neck. Cashmere stares at me surprised for a moment before she pats the space on the couch next to her. "Sit," she demands. When I do, she crosses her legs professionally and looks at me.

"Gloss once told me something."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Really, now? I never would have thought he'd tell you anything," I say, sarcastically.

She rolls her eyes and nudges my knee. "You know what I mean. He once told me that whenever I have a date with a man or woman in the Capital, I should never kiss them on the lips."

"Isn't that what they want though?"

"Yes. Maybe," she replies. "But that doesn't mean you have to start the kiss. We - you and I - aren't committed to a relationship or anything, but if or when we are, we'll feel guilty if we ever start a kiss with a stranger. Do you get me?"

Kind of. I nod along.

"Since our job is to pleasure or to satisfy their wants and needs, we're the submissive ones. We don't say no to them. Kiss their neck, cheek, shoulder, whatever but don't start a kiss. If they kiss you on the lips, then you have to go along with it."

"Huh?" is my only smart response. "You're overusing the word kiss, Cashmere."

She rolls her cerulean blue eyes again. "Just don't kiss them unless they kiss you. Oh, and also, don't make 'love' to them."

This time, I understand. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" I ask her. "Next time, speak in English."

"You know, I'm actually surprised. Most people have their first kisses by the time they're sixteen and I would've expected you to have at least one affair with a girl."

I shrug. "Not interested in a relationship. I've been preoccupied with other things."

The next thing she does takes me off guard. Within a split second, she's lunged forward and planted her lips on mine. My eyes widen for a brief moment before I close them, kissing her back.

And it all comes naturally to me. Her lips, smooth, warm and welcoming, mold against mine almost perfectly. Instinctively, I draw her in closer towards me, running my fingers through her soft hair and across the nape of her neck. Swiping my tongue across her bottom lip, I allow myself to taste Cashmere Delgado as she parts her lips. While I prefer girls my age or maybe only a year or so younger, the fact that she's almost three years older than me doesn't bother me when I realise that the women of the Capital would most likely be in the forties or fifties.

"What are you doing?" I mumble as she pulls back to breathe, though I do have quite the nagging suspicion of what her intentions are.

"Teaching you," she says. "Either you or Gloss will have to teach the next female courtesan. I'm sure you don't need teaching but I know what things the Capital women like. And Odair, would you really want to lose your virginity to one of them?"

I stand up, hoisting her up with me effortlessly and allow her legs to hook around my waist. "Let's go then," I offer with a smirk, and kiss her again, trailing my lips down her neck. Our hands roam freely as we stumble into the bedroom clumsily, and laugh a little as we fall back onto the bed. My shirt's quickly discarded like a piece of trash.

We roll around, both of us fighting for dominance until she realises that I indeed have the upper hand against her. "I hate being a girl sometimes," she huffs.

I chuckle, pulling back. "If you were a guy, I'd be screaming and running away from you this very instant."

"You do know that you are going to have male customers, right?"

"Don't remind me," I groan. "Please."

"Maybe you could get Gloss to teach you," Cashmere suggests, with a teasing glint in her eyes.

Moving off of her, I pull a face at her offer. "That is absolutely disgusting. I can't believe you just said that," I reply. "Who taught you, before you became a courtesan, anyway?"

"Cobalt."

"I don't know any victor named Cobalt."

"There is no victor named Cobalt. He's my ex-fiancee. Excluding my brother, the last male courtesan was Silk Golding and he's eight years older. Gloss decided the man he trusted most to teach me was Cobalt." She turns over, straddling my torso and trails a hand down my chest. "Less talk, more action," she demands, leaning down once again.

Her hair forms a curtain around us and her eyes - her eyes are different, but familiar. A nagging voice in the back of my mind whispers, Indiana. Pushing the voice to the back of my mind, I find that my hands seem to have a curious mind of their own. My right hand wanders up to the golden zipper on the back of her tiny dress, and my other hand slides its way down her breasts, her stomach and up her thigh.

The pleasure of it all - the kissing, the grinding and the sensuality - overwhelms me, and I'm too far gone to even bother thinking about anything else. As my fingers slowly inch her zipper down, Cashmere peppers kisses along my jaw and I snap out of it. She once did the same thing. Indiana, the voice whispers, insistently.

I sit up, abruptly, pushing her off a little too roughly and stand up. "I can't…" I purse my lips, running through my hair. "Sorry. I just can't."

"Finnick, you need to do this. How do you expect to have sex tomorrow with a complete stranger?"

"You remind me of her."

"Who? Indiana?" she replies, almost offended. "We might both have blonde hair and blue eyes but most girls in District One do. I might also have a similar personality as she once did, but we Victors, are a family now. We help each other, whenever in need."

"You know I know that, Cashmere. I just… can't. I'm sorry. I don't have anything against you in particular. I'm grateful for your help but…" I heave a sigh and apologise one more. "I'm sorry."

The next morning, I find myself knocking on the door of Amelia Keane's apartment. A rather petite woman with silver hair answers the door. She wears next to nothing as she coaxes me into her bedroom.

Today's the day I lose my virginity to the silver-haired, orange-eyed, thirty-seven year old Capital woman named Amelia Keane.

I should've taken Cashmere up on her offer.

A/N: Short chapter, I'm sorry. I'll try to make up for it soon, but I hope it's okay :)