The fourth day
Something had changed between those two.
Drake had no idea what happened to Champagne and Platty-Platinum. God. Platinum. Not Platty. Platty was just Champagne's idea of a joke. Never mind how her eyes lit up when she said it, or how cute that little giggle was when Drake messed up and had to correct himself.
Anyways.
They had known each other back in District One, the boy had gathered that much. From the way they interacted, Drake wasn't sure what their relationship was like. Sometimes he thought that they were friends. Sometimes he thought they were worst enemies. Maybe they were exes.
Something about that didn't quite settle well with Drake. No doubt they'd make a beautiful couple. With Champagne's beautiful, silky blonde curls and shining green eyes, with his soft dark hair that somehow always looked perfect, even when they'd spent four days in the Arena together. Not to mention his soft blue-gray eyes, strong arms. Even their heights matched up perfectly. Champagne was just two inches shorter than Platinum (they had certainly bickered about the difference in heights). It was just perfect. She would have had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him, or she could pull him by the shirt down to her-
What the fuck?! Drake never thought about romance like that. The thought of romance disgusted him, frankly. For a while his parents and sister hoped he would get a girlfriend, but it was never something he wanted. Love meant trust. And trust meant pain. Nobody ever loved him, why should he spend his life hopelessly falling and climbing, falling and climbing? It was pointless. If his own parents couldn't love him, how could anyone?
It was obvious that despite their occasional bickering, Champagne and Platinum really trusted each other. And him. When Drake kept watch, those two slept together in the queen bed and snored the night away. (Well, Champagne snored. Drake knew she was the culprit because of the many nights he was kept awake but his distrustful nature and listened to her nose whistle the whole night long.) Drake could have easily killed them and they wouldn't have batted a single beautiful eyelash. But they didn't seem to care. Trust was a funny thing. Trust was Platty- Platinum. Trying to get Drake to sleep on the bed with him. Drake wasn't buying into that, though. Hell no. He was going to sleep on the floor. His family already hated him, he could hear them in his head yelling if he were to even sit on that bed for a minute when another man was in it. Especially such a gorgeous man with such big muscles. Drake wished he had muscles like that. He was strong, but for some reason his arms stayed lean. Not bulky like Platinum's arms.
Ahem. Anyways. Drake couldn't trust them. Ultimately, only one was going to come out. He would never forgive himself if he disgraced his District by being killed in his sleep. Drake wasn't going down without a fight, and certainly not to either of those two prissy people from District One.
But after that night of watching the stars... No, the day. It was the daytime and it wasn't even real so it really didn't count. None of it counted. That wish he made... It was made in a moment of weakness, a moment where he yearned to feel like the kid he was never allowed to be. He can't keep allowing to have so many minutes of weakness... Why was this happening to him the only time he wasn't allowed to be weak!?
The point was... Something changed after that. Platinum and Champagne were acting differently towards each other, and towards Drake.
She had been touching Platinum so much. His arms mostly. Drake noticed how she always reached over when she laughed at something and gave his shoulder a squeeze. He noticed how she bit her lip when she looked at him. He noticed that her voice was slightly higher-pitched when she was talking to him. Drake noticed how her eyes lit up when she smiled at Platinum.
It was strange because she was already treating Drake that way before, and now she was treating them both like that. It shouldn't have bothered Drake. It wasn't painful! It didn't hurt him. Nothing hurt him anymore. It was impossible. He simply couldn't allow it.
He knew that this should be a good thing. If Champagne's interest was shifting to Platinum and away from him, it would be easier to see her go, when it was time for that. He knew that it was good that she would grow attached to her District partner, then Drake could do what he wanted to do.
But God. He didn't want it to happen.
Maybe Champagne and Platinum would be an adorable couple. Maybe Drake noticed how peaceful she looked at him and how she looked at Platinum when they were watching the "stars." Maybe he noticed how they both tittered with laughter at Champagne's jokes, while Drake only rolled his eyes. Maybe he did push her away, right into Platinum's strong, gorgeous arms. But Drake didn't want them to get together. Maybe it was some form of jealousy... No, of course not. Drake didn't get jealous. If he wanted something, he got it, because all he wanted was possessions, wealth, power. He would never want an angel like her. Even if he did, he would never get her. It was stupid of him to think that he even could.
Not that he did...
Oh goddammit, of course he did! Who wouldn't want that gorgeous girl!? Who wouldn't want that completely unique, headstrong, kind woman that showed him compassion when he had forgotten what compassion even was?! God. Who wouldn't want her? The better question was, who would ever want Drake? Nobody. That was who.
Nobody ever wanted him. Maybe if he won, he would finally be wanted. Maybe that was all it took.
If only he wouldn't be fighting all of these pointless feelings.
He was exhausted. He'd barely slept. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was mangy and tangled, and his facial hair had already started growing back (and not in the good way). How could he ever compete with someone like Platinum? Not only was he gorgeous, he was also hilarious. He had the perfect comedic timing, and even when his jokes weren't funny that big smile made Drake want to laugh anyways. He was friendly, too, and even when Champagne called him Platty he never lost his temper. In fact, the pouting face he made was arguably cuter than Champagne's loud laughter in the background.
Drake almost choked on his own spit when he realized what word he'd just thought. Guys weren't cute. They were either stronger, or weaker, than himself.
Even when the two of them just woke up in the morning, they looked... Well, maybe not conventionally attractive, but there was just something about them that was unconventionally gorgeous. Their bedhead was still cute. Drake's bedhead (or floorhead) was just ridiculous. Comical. Certainly not cute.
"Mm. Do we have to get up?" The huskiness in Platinum's tired voice always made Drake listen. God, I wish I sounded like that. Even his voice was gorgeous. If he closed his eyes Drake could imagine him standing beside himself, and singing some of the old hymn tunes Drake grew up listening to. Drake never really sang, he was too young to really catch the melody. But Platinum's voice was so deep and smooth. Surely he would sound great.
"Rise and shine you two," Drake said. His voice was so harsh, jagged. It wasn't smooth... Why did he even think he had a chance- Drake cleared his throat. "Long day."
"Every day is a long day here," Champagne said. Ever since they'd watched the stars her bubbly energy had fizzled out. Maybe it was just what she needed to realize that only one of them came out. Maybe it was better for him if she didn't, and mindlessly went and died for them. But... He didn't even know what he thought anymore! He needed to stop thinking.
Platinum reached over and rubbed her back. Drake clenched his fists. "We don't have time for this," he said, trying to stop his mind from wondering how her smooth back would feel under his hand, travelling down and up the curve like Platinum was doing. But he wasn't Platinum. He could probably never get away with touching her like that... Or at all.
Champagne sat up, her hair sticking up and falling on her soft, pale face. "You guys make the days go by a lot faster."
Drake's heart picked up in speed. He quickly covered his face, pretending to cover a yawn.
"You're blushing." Drake looked up, blushing harder at the statement. But... She was talking to Platty. Not him. Sure enough, the boy was slightly rosy-cheeked. Surely nothing compared to the hot redness Drake felt overcoming his entire face.
"I'm not blushing, you're blushing," he said.
Champagne laughed and Drake excused himself to go use the restroom, embarrassed that he even thought for a second she'd be paying attention to him when someone like Platinum was in the room.
As he left, he heard Platty trill in his husky, tired voice, "I feel the same way, you know."
Drake angrily splashed his face with water and rinsed out his mouth. He felt gross. No amount of primping was going to make him look anywhere near as good as the other two. It didn't stop him from trying. He smoothed his hair down, trying to get the thick, greasy black locks to do something presentable. Splashing his face made him look more presentable, but dark circles still existed that made him look even more sullen than he already was. He was truly hopeless.
When he walked back into the bathroom, Champagne and Platinum were sitting up in bed and chatting. They both looked up at him when he came back.
"There you are!" Platinum said cheerfully.
"I gotta piss so bad," Champagne said, getting up and leaving quickly.
Drake avoided looking at Platinum, going through the supplies he'd already gone through so many times. Something about that guy. He just had this likable aura all around him, it seemed. Or maybe it was just because Drake had spent enough time with him to know how likable he was.
"Who knows how long she'll spend in there?" Platinum quipped, leaning back in his bed. His shirt rode up just the slightest bit and Drake immediately looked away.
"Not nearly as long as you," he mumbled.
Platinum let out a laugh, literally the most melodious laugh Drake had ever heard. God, how was that even fair!? "I wish I could deny. This face takes a lot of work, you know?"
Easy for you to say, Drake thought angrily. The stylist that made the tributes look nice was just stunned at how hairy one guy could possibly be. It wasn't the sexy kind of hair, either. It was course and thick and Drake grabbed the lady that waxed him around the neck. She had caused him a lot of pain.
Even though they'd just taken it off, it seemed that wasn't going to stop it from coming back.
Champagne came back, yawning. Her eyes looked puffy and it was obvious she'd been crying, even to Drake, but the boys had learned to just stop mentioning it when this happened. She had gotten control of herself, and if the boys mentioned it, she'd just lose it again.
Drake knew she was trying to be strong, he did, but it was hard to watch. Platinum went to the bathroom, leaving Drake and Champagne alone together.
"Don't you want to sit?" she asked, patting a spot on the bed next to her. Drake slowly sunk down into the spot, that was still warm with Platinum's body heat. He could barely even look at her. "That Platty is really something, isn't he?" she asked.
"Mm," Drake grunted. Really something was right.
"He and I knew each other back home," she said. When she laid down, her blonde curls spread out and her eyes were fixed on the ceiling. I knew it. "He and his friends were such pricks. Always giving my friends a hard time."
Drake perked up at that. "Is that so?"
Champagne glanced over, surprised he'd speak up. He'd been so short with those two since meeting them.
"Yeah. But I think that something about him is different ever since we've been shipped here."
"Being on death's doorstep changes people."
Champagne looked up at him, her lips forming a small smile. "I think you're right Drake."
The way she looked at him... He could practically feel his ears heat up. "What's that supposed to mean?!"
"What?" she asked mock-offendedly.
"That grin you just did!" Drake crossed his arms. God, why was she so... C-Cute!?
"Oh, nothing," Champagne said, giggling, and before Drake could further protest, Platinum came back.
"What's the plan today, Captain?" Platinum asked, giving a toothy grin.
"Captain?" Drake asked, and Champagne's bird-like giggle sounded from behind him.
"Aye Aye," Platinum said, and both of the One tributes laughed together.
Drake squeezed his eyes shut. "Remember where we are, would you? We have to go find more tributes."
Champagne took a deep breath and looked at him with sad eyes, but didn't ask the question today. She didn't need to say it. "Do we have to?"
"We're running out of rations, and we don't have a choice. So let's get going." Drake slung the backpack over his shoulder and held his sword tightly. It was time to get closer to ending this.
Wordlessly, the three of them walked out to the hallway.
It was quiet, and dark. Drake led the way, keeping his hands still. He could hear Champagne quivering behind him. They walked back through the rooms they'd already checked for good measure. It was a long and tedious process, but necessary to make sure they hadn't missed anything.
Drake looked back at his allies to be sure they were ready, and gave them each a nod. Then, he pushed it open.
The door didn't budge. The knob turned but the door itself didn't move an inch.
Great. Someone had jammed it.
"Maybe we should go back," Champagne murmured, but before she could finish the thought Drake kicked at the door, causing a loud bang.
"So much for sneaking," Platinum muttered as he kicked again. The door was old, and cracked easily. Drake backed up, taking a running start, and rammed into it with his body. The impact knocked the air out of him, but adrenaline was already pumping through his veins. He burst into the room, shoving aside the giant crib that was blocking the door. The room was just plain eerie... The cribs rocking in a rhythm together...
Drake wanted to tell his allies to split up, but Champagne was so close to Drake that he knew she wasn't going to leave his side. The thought of that made him smirk a little. If only it wasn't for this reason.
"Show yourself," Drake said, walking slowly and methodically.
He heard quiet whimpering. Another competitor to eliminate from the match. Drake approached the space it was coming from. Suddenly, he heard a small yell, as another boy jumped out of a crib across the way and ran at Drake. He had nothing but his bare fists. Poor kid. Drake easily slashed the boy from Nine down, sending him tumbling to the ground.
Drake quickly swiveled to see their other competitor, the boy from Two. He was running. Drake wasn't about to let him get away. It was far too easy to just strike another down.
Guinness was still clutching his chest and crying, and Drake started towards Elijah when he heard a panicked scream that filled his body with coldness.
He turned around to see Champagne clutching her bleeding shoulder, crying in pain. Her green eyes were full of panic and she was shaking as she fell on her knees. Drake ran towards her. The Two boy got away.
"Champagne!" Platinum said. "Are you alright?"
Drake drove his sword through the chest of the fifteen-year-old from Nine, who cried one last time, and then hurried to Champagne's side.
They used her jacket to wrap up the bleeding wound.
"What happened?" Drake asked. Champagne was gasping and crying.
"He hurt you?" Platinum asked.
Champagne nodded, sniffling and trying to control her tears, which simply wouldn't stop. Platinum rubbed her back gently. Drake wanted to touch her, but touching people wasn't something Drake did.
"Where's your knife?" Drake asked, frowning. She should have defended herself...
"H-He surprised me," she hiccuped, as Platinum gave her a sip of water. "T-Took it away."
Drake was filled with rage. That little bastard!
Champagne's eyes hit the floor, towards Guinness's body, and filled with more tears.
"Don't feel bad about him," Drake said, shaking his head. "We took his ally and now we're going to go after him."
"Please... I don't want to pursue today..." She said. "Can't we just have a break?"
"Platty, take her back to the room." As much as he didn't want those two to be together, he wanted Champagne to be alone even less. "I'll look for the snot."
Platinum nodded, and Drake avoided looking at Champagne's sad, teary green eyes. He led her back towards the bedroom, weapon at the ready to strike.
Drake went out to the hallway, his heart pounding.
And left behind, in the darkness of the nursery, lay the bloodstained knife, untouched by Elijah, that allowed him to escape with his life.
.
The bathroom wasn't such a bad hiding spot if that barricade would only stay put.
Rosalind had found the most important resource to living, after all, and she had a good supply. She didn't want to say endless... You could never be too careful. And it appeared as if the water was coming from some sort of well, that could easily dry up if it was used too much. Rosalind was being careful with it.
However, it was quite nice to have a reliable water source. Rosalind could wash her face each morning and always had something to drink.
Unfortunately, the only things to do that made the time pass were be paranoid about the flimsy barricade she tried to make with a shower rod and watch the water in the toilet.
And, worst of all, the girl from District Three had nothing to eat. It had been four days since she'd eaten a single crumb. Rosalind was no stranger to the feeling of being starving. However, she knew that she wasn't the only tribute to run away from the golden horn without as much as a scrap. She was starting to consider going back outside and seeing what was left behind. There had been so much inside the horn, surely there was still something in there... Hopefully something tasty...
Rosalind's thoughts were interrupted by a silver platter sliding in through a slit on the wall. The girl let out a small scream she was so shocked, and stepped back from the package cautiously, afraid that it was going to explode. Did another tribute: or the Capitol: send an explosive to kill her!? Rosalind squinted when she saw her District symbol printed lightly on the container.
Could this be... a present, like her "escort" had told her about?
She stepped forward and opened the lid. Inside the container was a soft, warm blanket. Rosalind smiled and quickly pulled out her present from the container. It was twice as soft as it looked, and even touching it she could feel that it was warm.
Rosalind had been slightly chilly: the jackets they were given were thin, and the house wasn't exactly heated. Not to mention sitting in the ceramic bathtub, or on the tile floor, which was freezing on its own.
Rosalind smiled and looked at the camera that was filming the bathroom, up in the top corner. It appeared as if it had been made to be subtle, but Rosalind spotted it as soon as she got in the room.
"Thank you," she said. The politer she was, the more she smiled and nodded, the more gifts she would receive. It was a simple rule that she had learned from her time in District Three. She was a decently pretty young girl that was raised to be polite.
That was why she couldn't find the courage to kick her District partner out, now wasn't it? Yeah, she should have told him that his siblings weren't there, that he needed to leave. She should have gone and turned him away, sent him out. She knew that's what she should have done. But it was too late now. She was too shy to tell him that his siblings weren't there. She was too afraid to do that. First, because it would be rude: maybe outright mean. Second of all, Kepler was a big guy. He was bigger than he thought, that was for sure, but if Rosalind angered him it would be bad for her. Third, Kepler's meltdowns were intimidating. She had witnessed them, Peacekeepers had to come and detain him. They took him away and it was a while before he came back. Wasn't it punishment enough kill him?!
Rosalind regretted not telling him to go away. She had always been spineless like this. And now she was worried about him. She was worried about Henry with him. It was better to let him go with someone else... Someone Kepler liked... But that he blindly trusted, it seemed.
Rosalind wished she had asked him to leave. She already had such a slim chance of getting home, and worrying for Kepler took energy that Rosalind couldn't afford to live.
It was a risk to leave the bathroom that Rosalind had made such a safe space out of. But she also knew that she was going to have to find food, and it might be better to be mobile than be still. She would just have to be careful. Rosalind didn't like taking a lot of risks, but the risks she did take were very calculated. It was a long distance to get back outside. She'd have to wait till the dead of night to make her move. Then she could sleep in the mouth of the horn, using the permanent darkness of the outside as cover, and then, the next night she would find her place back in the bathroom, hopefully with enough food to give her energy and maybe a weapon to make her look threatening just in case.
It was risky... The human body could survive up to three weeks without food, after all... She could get away with not going for another few days.
But just sitting here, doing nothing, filled her with anxiety. She would constantly imagine other tributes going to the horn just as she'd planned, each of them taking a piece of food or a bag, or a weapon. It seemed like a pretty simple plan that any of the others could have thought of. And if other tributes were going, they would take all of the food, all of the things Rosalind needed the most.
A cannon boomed just then and made her jump out of her skin. Gosh. Another had died... Rosalind wasn't ready to face whoever might be out there that's actually taking lives. She had to be more prepared than this.
When the sun sets, she thought to herself. Then I'll prepare myself for the worst.
.
The cannon, like all the other, made the girls jump.
Jessie knew that ultimately it was a good thing. Ultimately, it meant one less person she had to watch die, one less person that would have to be eliminated for her to get back home to her family... Er, um, Isabelle. It was still hard for Jessie to remember that the only family she had left was her older sister.
But did she truly have Isabelle?
Her sister wasn't the same after the Dark Days. Yeah, yeah, nobody was, but especially not her. She used to be such a loud, feisty person. She used to make Jessie laugh, and make her unfathomably angry with her stubborn head and her obnoxious opinions. Jessie would get so annoyed at her, they would often argue and rarely saw eye to eye... But now, Jessie wished they would argue. She wished that Isabelle wouldn't be sent into fits, that she wouldn't blindly and nervously agree with whatever Jessie said, whatever anyone said. She wished that she could have that girl back that she could rely on, that would put on a happy face and be strong, that would go out and work, go shopping, cook meals... She wanted her parents back. She wanted to go back to before the Dark Days. Before her parents were killed in front of Isabelle's eyes. Before Jessie was put... Here.
Ha. Who didn't? Leave it to her to state the obvious.
Everyone wanted to go home. Nobody wanted to be here. Jessie was singing the same song as all of these other people. All these other... Kids.
At least Marigold was there. Marigold promised to take care of her. Jessie knew that Marigold felt weird going to visit Jessie after the Dark Days. She felt uncomfortable talking to Isabelle. But Marigold knew that Jessie was the only one left living with Isabelle. Jessie was the breadwinner, Jessie cleaned and coked, Jessie made meals and went shopping, Jessie made sure Isabelle got out, went to the park, tried to get her to relax. Jessie never gave up. Marigold promised to take care of Isabelle. And Jessie knew that Marigold was loyal and steadfast, and would keep her word. And if Marigold didn't know what to do, that was why Wilder was there. Isabelle's longtime best friend often came by to check on her, and Jessie hoped he would visit every day now that she was here. It was mandatory viewing after all... If Isabelle wasn't watching, she could be killed...
Jessie rubbed her face in her hands. This was only if she died. And Jessie was not planning on doing that any goddamn time soon. She refused. She was going to fight until the bitter end. If she was going to die, she was going to go out swinging.
Ughh... That thought just made her shiver. She didn't even want to think about dying. It was a reality she didn't want to accept. Even if she had witnessed a death in front of her own eyes...
"Those always spook me," Rune murmured under her breath. She let out an uncomfortable, airy laugh.
"Yeah," Jessie mumbled in return. "Me too."
There was a silence between them.
"Do you think we should be doing something more than just sitting around?" she asked quietly. The girls had taken residence in the large great dining room, and hadn't left since they'd arrived. Sure, they'd tried at the kitchen door, after Malthe had killed that girl and bolted. Jessie and Rune didn't even know she was there... She was so quiet, and hiding on the opposite edge of the room than them. If Jessie had known, would she have attacked...? She didn't know. She didn't want to think about it.
"I don't know if it's worth it to take that kind of risk..." she murmured.
Jessie understood what she meant. The girls had bonded over being adventurous daredevils, but now neither of them could muster the courage to do anything but hide. Every time she heard the smallest noise, the girls moved closer to each other, clutching their weapons until their knuckles turned white. Jessie hated when Rune slept, because that meant Jessie was the sole protector of both of them. That was a lot of responsibility. And even though Jessie wasn't a stranger to sudden responsibility, it didn't stop her from worrying.
The girls half-heartedly tried again at the kitchen door, but it wouldn't budge. Jessie was relieved about that. And, just as they had every other day before, the girls successfully hid until the evening.
That night, Octavian Spencer's voice once again made the two girls jump. Another day had come and gone.
"Tributes, you have made it through another day in the Hunger Games. It is now time to announce the deceased. In seventeenth place, Mr. Guinness Fielder."
The fourth night
Rune audibly gasped, and Jessie could tell the two of them were in for a bad night. Jessie's district partner Oliver was still alive and kicking, so Jessie didn't know how she felt... But she understood the expression on Rune's face.
Jessie's ally couldn't hold in the tears. Jessie was a seasoned expert at the art, Rune was not. The tears started to drip out of her eyes and slide down her cheeks. Rune got close to tears on the first day, after realizing that she'd taken a life, but... Jessie frowned and put a hand on her shoulder.
Rune clutched her knees and sobbed. Jessie could see her grip on her pants was tight, tight and shaking. Jessie had no idea what to say, so she just... Didn't. She had a feeling there was nothing she could have said to make it hurt any less. She could try the classic "I'm so sorry," but she had a feeling Rune didn't want to hear that. Nobody who lost someone ever did. Didn't Jessie know that better than anyone?
Rune wadded up her pantlegs in her fist, trying to keep her sobs quiet. Even in the dim dining room, Jessie could see Rune's knuckles going white.
"I'm here," she said quietly. That was all she could offer. Nothing would make it better, but Rune had to know she wasn't alone. "I've got you." Her confidence faltered when she said that. She never liked being solely responsible for protecting both herself and another person. But that was what Rune needed. And, like Marigold had been everything Jessie needed, at that time... Jessie would be everything Rune needed too.
Rune looked up at her, face contorted in a frown, eyes squeezed shut as the tears rolled down her cheeks and snot poured out of her nose. She hadn't moved her hands from her pant legs. Her lips looked like they wanted to form words, but she was too afraid to vocalize them because she would scream and sob. Jessie didn't know what to do other than open her arms to her ally, who released her hands to give Jessie a tight hug. Rune squeezed so hard Jessie was slightly worried her ally was trying to suffocate her. Rune sniffled and buried her face in the front of Jessie's shoulder. Jessie rubbed her back gently, but didn't know what else to do for her. She didn't want to overstep... She didn't really know what their relationship was. All she knew was that her heart was broken for her friend, and there was really nothing she could do to make it hurt any less. Rune pulled back, gasping and trying to control her tears.
"I k-illed a boy Jessie," she finally gasped out, erupting into a new burst of tears upon hearing herself say it out loud. "I killed a b-ooy! Fi-fteen," she balled her fists again, slamming them on the ground angrily. "He was fifteen."
"It'll be worth it when you see your family again Rune," Jessie said quietly. She couldn't afford for Rune to lose her grip on sanity, or waste any more of their supplies by spending energy crying like this.
"It won't," she said quietly, another sob hiccupping out of her as she looked away from Jessie, hiccupping into her knees.
Jessie hoped she was just saying that. She needed an ally that wanted to get home just as much as she did... She decided to take Rune's outbursts with a spoonful of salt.
"You have people waiting for their Rune to return to them."
"I am not the person they sent away."
Before Jessie could stop her, Rune jumped up and ran straight out of the dining room, sobbing loudly into her hands. Jessie sat there and watched her go, shocked. She had nothing, no supplies, no weapon... She'd left it all.
Jessie hoped she'd be coming back soon. The girl from District Ten wasn't ready to take this alone, all because her District partner cracked under the pressure. She wasn't ready to be solely responsible for her own survival, after she had been a friend to Rune. They were an alliance, they had an agreement! She would definitely be coming back... Jessie wasn't ready to be abandoned again.
Jessie waited all night, fuming about Rune's reckless actions, but desperately waiting for her ally to return, realize she had made a mistake...
The fifth day
The sun rose and Rune was still gone. Jessie was fuming. All because of a few dumb comments she'd made! She was angry at Rune for abandoning her, and even more angry at herself for not realizing that this girl would have been way too soft.
Jessie was tired of waiting to get home to her family.
If Rune was going to play a coward's game, it became Jessie's personal mission to put an end to it.
It was time to take action.
A/N: Hello, three readers. I'm back with another update! Hope you are all well. I don't have much to say other than I'm really excited to get back to this story!
* Chapter Question: Do you think Rosalind's plan will work? Why or why not?
