Chapter Six | That burns the brighter with each pass of time;
"Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning;
One pain is lessened by another's anguish."
1.2, 45-46 Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare
It's been four months since that breakfast between Gloss and her. She hasn't seen him since, unless of course you count seeing his face on the TV screen or on Capitol Weekly's cover page. She doesn't. It's okay, though. Elara's glad. She doesn't want to rely on a District 1 Victor who she probably won't even see until the next Games. They live hundreds of miles away from each other and she doesn't need him anyway.
It's just nice. Having someone. Being in someone's arms. It's nice to know that she can still feel something sincere. That the desire she occasionally has for him is not fake or exaggerated like it is for her clients.
That's all there is to it. She knows he would never want more from her, and she doesn't even think she wants more from him either. Besides, it's not as if they ever could have more, so why bother thinking about it at all?
She tells herself that, but it doesn't work. When she's lying in a stranger's bed in the Capitol, waiting for her client to fall asleep so she can go home, she wishes she was in Gloss's bed. She tries to trick her mind into believing that she is. That she can smell his cologne and feel his body next to hers. That the arm thrown around her waist is his. That the moans which spill against her skin belong to him.
She doesn't know, exactly, why she does it to herself. Maybe it's because he's the only person she's been with so far who has actually cared about making sure she's comfortable. That, in the two times they've been intimate, he's never treated her like some plaything that he owns. A part of her wishes she'd never gotten involved with him at all, because it only makes everything that much harder. She doubts that there is anyone in the Capitol who could ever live up to the standards he has set.
Maybe that's why she finds herself standing outside of his apartment door, the next time she's in the Capitol and has a night to herself. Maybe that's why she knocks on it before she can stop herself.
God, what is she doing? She doesn't even know if he's here or if he's in District 1. If he's not here, she's wasted a trip. And if he is…
She finds herself both hoping and berating herself simultaneously, even as the doorknob turns and Gloss appears on the other side. And – she just stares at him in total silence, suddenly not knowing what to say, or why she's here, or how he could possibly help.
He looks understandably confused when he says, "…Winston? What are you doing here?"
Suddenly mortified, Elara stares at him in stricken silence and doesn't respond. She wishes she hadn't come. What had she been thinking? She's supposed to be realistic and grounded and here she is, going to him like this – and for what?
She can't answer his question because even she doesn't know why she's here. All she knows is that she really wants to see him again. He makes her feel safe in this great big city where she's all alone and hardly human.
Gloss stares at her for a long moment, watching her open her mouth, then close it. The process repeats a few times until he grows impatient, grabs her wrist, and tugs her into his apartment. He tells himself it's because if someone sees them, the tabloids would go crazy and Snow would be furious, but the real reason is because in a way, he's missed her, too.
It's probably silly. He barely knows her, and yet he rather likes what he does know. He likes her dry sarcastic drawl and he likes the sound of her voice in the mornings, when it's creased with sleep. He likes when she wears the color red because it makes her hair turn into fire, and he likes how confident she pretends to be, even though he knows that at least part of it is an act.
He doesn't like her, but he likes her well enough.
As Gloss shuts the door behind them, Elara twists her fingers together and, without any preamble, blurts out, "Let's have sex."
His head turns so fast that his neck cracks and it makes him cringe, and Elara thinks he's cringing because of her impromptu suggestion and it makes her back up and nervously laugh, "Oh God. I mean, we don't have to. Only if you want. You can say no. Obviously."
Gloss rubs at his neck, stares at her, and laughs. He laughs. It takes Elara three seconds to forget why she's nervous and realize how aggravating she thinks he is. Apparently she'd forgotten that in the course of four months.
"I wasn't expecting that," he chuckles, and walks into his kitchen, still snickering even as he opens a cabinet and pulls out a glass. She thinks he's blatantly ignoring her until he fills it with some kind of clear liquor and hands it over. Elara takes it warily and narrows her eyes at him.
"Well?" she asks, leaning against the counter expectantly. Honestly, she doesn't care if he says no or not. Her pride would definitely smart a little bit, but it's not like she's somehow become emotionally attached to him. She hardly even knows him.
Gloss's mouth twitches, like he's trying to rein in a smile.
"Well what?" he teases, looking extremely amused.
She thinks he might actually be the most stubborn man she's ever met. It's partially maddening, but there's definitely a part of her that finds him rather entertaining too. They're both pretty stubborn, after all.
With an impatient expression, Elara puts the drink down and walks over to him. Gloss watches very carefully. There's a sliver of interest in his eyes, and it only grows when Elara leans against the counter next to him and says, "Gloss. Would you like to have sex with me. Yes or no."
His mouth twitches again. After a brief pause, he asks, "Is that a trick question?"
Rolling her eyes, Elara responds, "No, it's not. I'm being serious."
"Hmm." He rubs his jaw and studies her face for a long moment before asking, "Why?"
There's no nervousness in her now. Now, Elara is just impatient and slightly frustrated at his line of questions. Giving him a look, she drawls, "Does it matter? Maybe I want to practice."
He chuckles even though there's really nothing funny about the words. The thought of her 'practicing' her sex skills on him so that she can use them on her clients actually makes him feel a bit nauseous, but he doesn't let it show when he quips, "As long as you don't fall for me, Winston."
He feels relieved when she scoffs and adamantly mutters, "I won't." Another part him feels the tiniest shred of remorse and the slightest twinge of disappointment, though he's not sure where it's coming from or if he's just imagining it. He's Gloss Augustine. He doesn't care if the new Victor falls or him or not. Either way, it's not like it impacts him.
With a nod, he waves his hand and says, "Alright then. Go on."
Go on? What does that even mean? Elara stands there with a raised eyebrow and a sarcastic look blazing in her eyes, and Gloss just smiles and waits for her to do something. He's not going to put in any effort – yet. She's the one that came to him, after all, not the other way around.
He's so going to make her work for it.
Elara has grown a lot in the last few months though. She's not nearly as inexperienced as Gloss remembers her to be during that first time, or even the second one. When she steps up to him and reaches up to lay her hands flat against his chest, there's an almost seductive look in her eyes that makes him shudder a little. And when she leans in and kisses him, pressing her body against the length of his, he doesn't pull away.
He finds himself rather liking how she kisses him. There's a slow but smoldering way about her mouth, like her kiss is an inferno that is just building up. It hints that there is more to come, but doesn't give away all the secrets. Before he knows it, he's leaning in and kissing her back, hands reaching for her face as their breaths begin to shorten.
He likes the way her body presses into his, too. She seems to fit perfectly against him. The way she has to crane her neck back so that her lips will reach his is oddly invigorating. He's not sure why. He's always been more attracted to fuller women with more meat on their bones, but she's thin and wiry and angular and it's hard to explain, but he thinks she's perfect.
Or – maybe he's just suddenly interested in the act that she's willingly offering, and his mind is going a little sideways on him. It's definitely possible. All he knows is that he wants her closer, and as the fire burns brighter between them, he doesn't hesitate to make it happen.
The tumble onto his bed somehow, tearing through his apartment with singular purpose. Once they begin to move together, Gloss looks down at her and she looks up at him and there's something in the air between them – an understanding of some kind – that makes them both smile.
It's an understanding that will propel them into something neither of them is prepared for in this moment.
The morning of the Hunger Games, Elara and Harley send their tributes down to the hovercraft that will fly the twenty four children to the arena. There's little else to do for either of them but to give them a few confident words before they board. Elara squeezes Graham's shoulder and gives him a few hopeful remarks about potential sponsors that are interested, and he gives her a watery nod before stepping onto the plane.
As it lifts up, Elara sees Johanna lingering off to the side with her arms crossed. She walks over to her friend with a smile. Johanna opens her mouth to greet her when a smooth voice cuts in with a purred, "Elara, you're looking particularly lovely this morning."
Finnick Odair sidles over to the two women with a wide smirking expression. As usual during the Games season, he's got some sugar cubes in his hand. Apparently he likes stealing from horses.
Elara raises an eyebrow at him and drawls, "Can I help you, Finnick?"
His mouth curves higher. She likes to think that Finnick and her have an understanding. They're both courtesans in the Capitol and they're both in love with another Victor. Not that either of them have ever spoken about that. It's a taboo subject, even in Finnick's case.
Anyway, Finnick amuses her. He has a way of making every situation seem easier to bear. She likes him. Gloss doesn't. He thinks Finnick gets himself into more trouble here in the Capitol by being the flirt that he is. He thinks it's stupid of him.
With a heaving sigh, Finnick throws an arm around Elara's shoulders and leans in to murmur in his exaggerated, seductive voice, "I just thought I'd have some fun, that's all. See, I have this theory." He smirks down at her and holds up a sugar cube. She eyes it curiously – until Finnick pushes it against her lips. "That Gloss is in love with you, only he won't say it," he brushes over her lips with his thumb and watches her eat the sugar cube before finishing, "because he's afraid it might get you in trouble."
Elara rolls her eyes at him and nudges him off of her. "You're so full of it, Odair. Whether or not that's true, it's none of your business."
She doesn't need Finnick Odair, of all people, analyzing her relationship with Gloss.
Johanna pipes up then, so suddenly that Elara startles, having forgotten she'd been there to begin with. "Finnick, prepare to get your ass handed to you by one overprotective Career."
Confused at her words, Elara looks up – only to see Gloss ambling towards them. There's a look in his eyes as he stares Finnick down. Finnick just laughs in amusement, shoots Elara a wink, and doesn't stick around for whatever confrontation Gloss is imagining. Before the Career is able to get to their group, Finnick is already back inside, no doubt hunting for an elevator to take him up to safety.
Elara snickers. She can't help but feel a tiny bit amused. Finnick makes her laugh, especially when he decides to rile up her lover. Gloss is usually calm and collected, unless Finnick is around. Not that they've ever had a real problem with each other. Gloss just dislikes watching Finnick flirt with Elara, regardless of the fact that everyone knows it's just for fun.
"Really? You let him feed you a sugar cube?" he grumbles the moment he reaches her side. Elara bites her lip to rein in her laughter, and Gloss narrows his eyes at her.
"What?" she asks, snickering. "Any woman would dream of being hand fed by Finnick Odair – right Johanna?" She nudges the other Victor playfully, and the woman scoffs.
"Ugh," she scoffs, and walks away before she can be dragged any further into the conversation.
Gloss crosses his arms and incredulously asks, "So you represent Panem's population of women, now? That makes it all better, does it?"
Elara laugh aloud at him and pats him on the shoulder. His gaze isn't set with the same sternness that would tell her he's being serious. Something flickers in them – a certain undefined mischief – that makes her lean closer and tease, "If it makes you feel better, Gloss, you can feed me whatever you'd like later tonight." Her eyes flash with innuendo, and she smirks widely at him.
He immediately coughs, clearly not expecting her suggestion – or the vulgarity of it.
"You might just be the death of me, Winston," is all he says in response, and tugs her back into the building.
She laughs and quips, "I think you're far more handsome than Finnick Odair, but then I think I might be a little prejudiced. I have seen way more of you than I have of him, after all." She murmurs the last part, so quietly that only he can hear, and Gloss smirks.
"Well I'm really glad to hear that," he mutters to her, as they board the elevator that Cashmere has saved for them. The other District 1 Victor is waiting with an impatient look on her face – no doubt a direct reaction to her brother's hidden love life. They all crowd onto the elevator and Elara sends Cashmere a friendly nod as she stands next to her. The moment the doors slide shut, though, the lighthearted mood gets pulled under the ever-present worries that the Games season brings.
"You wanna go to the public viewing room?" Gloss asks Elara, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
The public viewing room is a room in the Tribute Center where all the mentors are able to sit and watch the Games together. They have the option of staying in their suites too, but many of them appreciate the solidarity that comes from being together as a unified group. The room is also equipped with refreshments and comfortable chairs, which certainly helps. Usually Elara would say yes to his query, but this year…
Her hesitant silence is answer enough. Gloss presses down the button for District 5 and tells her, "Your suite, then. Mind if Cash and I join?"
Elara sends him a grateful smile and responds, "Yeah. Of course."
Cashmere hooks her arm around Elara's but doesn't say anything. They have a strange friendship, but it's genuine. It hadn't started off on a high note, but it's gotten way better over the years. Together with Gloss, the three have always been a group of their own within the Victors. Elara is friends with many of the others too, but she feels most comfortable with them.
When they get to the District 5 suite, they all crowd onto the couch, where Ignatius, Olive, and Harley are already waiting. Caesar Flickerman is currently on screen, exciting the crowd for the imminent start of the Games. Elara sits in between Cashmere and Gloss, who throws an arm over the back of the couch in a seemingly casual manner that Elara immediately sees through. She doesn't say anything though, and just subtly edges closer into his side as she watches Caesar.
This sort of obvious deception is oftentimes the only way they can be together without actually being together. Olive and Ignatius assume, just as the rest of the Capitolites, that Gloss and Elara are simply good friends. Cashmere's presence beside them definitely helps to bolster the image.
After a few minutes of waiting, the Games begin with a bang. A computerized voice counts down the seconds, and then the tributes are bounding off their pedestals. Most of them head for the Cornucopia. Matilde follows suit, though she doesn't linger very long. She's fast and quick as she grabs a backpack and immediately changes course for the heavily wooded area surrounding them, but she gets distracted when she accidentally charges into none other than Katniss Everdeen.
The Girl on Fire, as Caesar has aptly named during the chariot parade, looks just as wary as Matilde. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Matilde jolts away, and Katniss thankfully allows it.
As for Graham…he doesn't even make it past the bloodbath. Elara sits on the edge of her seat, scanning the screen. She catches sight of him running towards the woods, but one of the Careers grabs him around the neck and slams him down before he can make it halfway there.
She had expected this. Wanted it even. A quick death is all he could have hoped for, regardless of the way she had mentored him. The youngest winner in Hunger Games history is Finnick Odair, having won his Games at age fourteen, and that had been a shock to everyone. The younger tributes rarely last long.
She's still shaken as she watches the District 1 tribute pummel him into the ground and slice his throat. His canon goes off immediately, though it is lost in a haze of other canons and the general hysteria unraveling before them.
Gloss grabs her hand tightly, rubbing his thumb against her skin. She grips him hard as she watches the life bleed out of Graham's eyes, but doesn't say a word. It isn't necessary. She had been prepared to witness this moment, but it doesn't make it any easier.
What must his family be thinking now, back in District 5? Surely they had prepared for his death too, and yet…no one can truly prepare for moment in which you lose someone so close to you. It is a ragged feeling that takes a lifetime to go away.
On her other side, Cashmere shifts closer in a silent display of comfort. Elara just tightens her grasp of Gloss's hand and holds her breath. She watches the Careers gather themselves and distribute weapons and food, eyeing Graham's killer with a blank expression.
The boy from District 1 is bloodied but uninjured. He sends his comrades a grin as the District 2 tribute tosses him a backpack stuffed with food items and medicines. He's the boy that Gloss and Cashmere spent the past week mentoring, but she knows that they don't feel any joy from watching their tribute turn into a killer. She knows that it brings back memories of a time where they were both in those shoes, mercilessly fighting for their lives.
She doesn't blame them for Graham's death. It would be unfounded. They are all suffering together – always the Victors suffer in their own way – and she knows that Gloss and Cashmere are not the same Careers that they perhaps once were, back in their Games. Their experiences with the Capitol and with President Snow have changed them just as it has changed all the others.
No one says a word as they watch the Games unfold. Allies are formed. The Careers set up camp around the Cornucopia. The other tributes disperse, some in groups, some on their own. Elara is surprised when Peeta Mellark teams up with the Careers, especially when he offers to help them hunt down Katniss. Though it isn't strange for district partners to turn against each other upon entering the arena, she hadn't expected that the star-crossed lovers would. As for Katniss Everdeen, she disappears into the forest, but the cameras let her go for now. They're too interested in watching the Careers plan out their strategy.
Matilde, too, is lost in the woods, apparently unimportant for now to the Capitol viewers.
Elara hopes it stays that way.