It was twenty-four. It was twenty-four of us that were picked during the reaping, twenty-four of us that got pampered by the Capitol and sized up like live bait as we went into the Hunger Games—and there were only two left. Artie Abrams was the first to go, being in a wheelchair was an unfair disadvantage. The rest he couldn't remember as Blaine Anderson trudged through the words, close to dehydration and starvation, but he kept trudging on, his head throbbing and the backpack he nicked from the Cornucopia weirdly heavy on his back.
One more. I only have to defeat one more, and then I'm it. I'm the winner. I'm the champion. The victor of District eight. Blaine thought, trying to keep his spirits up as he looked around, aware of all of his surroundings as he tried to remember his other competitor, but he didn't have to think for long.
An arrow shot down from the tall trees that made a canopy, barely missing him. He moved quickly and looked up to see him—District one's tribute—Sam Evans, and his heart skipped a beat. No, no, no, no, no, no. Just…no. He thought, his head starting to throb harder and his heart beating faster as he watch him get lower to the ground before dropping and landing on his feet, his bow ready, but he looked just as shocked and hurt as he did when Blaine who he was dealing with, too.
"No," he heard Sam mumble as he shook his head and gulp, looking down quickly. "Blaine…"
Memories that he kept trying to hold back started to pour in—his grandfather's funeral in Blaine's district—the first time he met Sam. The way they looked at each other, the way their lips crashed into one another, and the way he felt when Sam had to leave, knowing he would probably never see him again. He had never thought when they were still in the Capitol that they would be face-to-face—the one who lost their life their District's victor.
"This isn't happening," Blaine mumbled, close to tears, but having to keep strong, just for the cameras that he could feel the millions of District citizens watching them. "It has to happen," Sam mumbled, tears threatening to spill over the brim of his eyes, but Blaine shook his head.
"No, Sam, please, go. I'll go. Shoot me. Or…" He looked around on the ground and saw a poisonous plant, not knowing the name of it, but remembering it in a book he read. "I'll eat this. It'll kill me as fast than Nightlock would."
"No, Blaine. Please. You have to get back to your family, and if we don't decide soon, they'll choose for us. Please, let me do this." Now the tears were spilling as he shook his head and blinked his eyes rapidly. "I love you." He said as he walked over to him and gave him a long kiss on his lips, their first kiss since they were about eleven.
"No," Blaine mumbled, his voice breaking as Sam shook his head, removing his forehead from Blaine's and grabbing his arrow, and knowing that he could not stop him for anything, he watched Sam plummet it into his chest and with one more look at his Blaine before he crumbled to the forest floor, and the cannon sounded.
I'm the winner. Blaine thought dazedly before he completely broke down.