A/N- Right, rolling on with chapter 2! I couldn't leave it there, so I'm revealing more about Ethan and Zinny...

I hope you like the next chapter!

I don't own the Hunger Games, as you already know.

"That's it; a notebook?" Monroe asks for the billionth time. "Nothing else?"

"Yes, nothing else. Just the notebook" We reply in unison.

"And the notebook is empty?" He asks, his mouth full of food. God, I wish he'd stop doing that. It's disgusting; for a man of his wealth, it surprising that he can't even afford some table manners. It's laziness really.

"Yes" We groan again, bored with answering the same questions over and over again.

"So, there was nothing else?" He asks us again.

"No!" We both exclaim, completely fed up with this. It's like a broken record, the same bit repeating so much that you end up saying it in your sleep.

"Sorry... I just don't see how she can afford the service" He shrugs, before taking a large swig of wine.

Ethan and I breathe a sigh of relief, glad to finally continue our meals without being asked the same questions we've answered so many times. I pick up my cutlery and begin to eat my dinner, which consists of a few thick slices of pink beef, several steaming roast potatoes, a helpful of crunchy vegetables and enough gravy to fill a swimming pool. A large glass of wine also sits by my plate, barely touched. I'm not particularly fond of alcohol, but I sip at it to be polite.

Also, I hardly ate when I first moved in here; it didn't feel right; going from just enough food to survive, to eating a grand feast each meal time. But now, after living here for a few months, I've settled into proper eating habits and accepted that the people of the Capitol eat like this all the time. I'm not living in District 12 anymore. This is my home now, so I'd better start acting like I do live here.

We collapse into a state of silence, just focusing on eating our dinner. Ethan and I exchange a few awkward looks over the period of the meal, catching him looking at me, and him catching me doing the same. Luckily Monroe doesn't seem to notice the tension between us. I'm still in sight shock from our 'incident'. We kissed in an alleyway just a few hours ago!

"Right, that's me done for tonight" Monroe stands up, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "I've got some calls to make, so I'll see Zinnia later and you, Ethan, tomorrow"

"Ok, see you then" Ethan replies as Monroe exits the room, already pulling out his phone to dial a number.

He turns back to me and grins. "So... what should we do now, gorgeous?"

"Stop calling me that, and I'm not sure" I reply.

"Don't pretend you don't love it" He says, walking over to me.

"I'm not pretending" I insist.

"You can't tell me you don't like compliments" He says, taking hold of my arms in his warm hands.

"Well, I never said that..." I contemplate, stroking my fingers gently across his arm.

"Good, cuz I'm gonna keep dishing them out" He grins, pulling me out the room.

He takes me through the lounge, quickly releasing my arms when he sees Monroe sitting on the sofa, whispering into his phone. Once we've passed through the lounge, he takes my arms again and pulls me down the corridor. He kicks open my bedroom door with his foot and I'm drawn into the room.

He sits me down on the bottom of the bed while he goes over and closes the door. Once it's closed, he strolls over to me and stands in front of me, urging me to stand up too.

"C'mon Zinny, I've missed youuu" He pleads.

"It's only been, like, two hours!" I reply, tossing back my hair that has fallen across my shoulders.

"I love it when you do that" He declares.

"Do what?" I ask.

"Flip your hair back" He replies.

"Seriously? We kissed once, you're not in love with me or anything" I say. "So why act all weird?"

"I'm not being weird...I've liked you for ageees and finally you've admitted you like me too. So why not act nice?" He quizzes me.

"I never said don't..." I say, then realise what he just said. "Wait, you liked me for ages?"

"Yeah, course. I wasn't being pervy when I made those comments about you, I did really like you" He says.

"Oh, right... well ok then" I shrug, unsure what I'm meant to say. If I'm meant to say anything.

"Ok then? That's it?" He exclaims.

Oops.. wrong thing...

"What else did you want me to say?" I ask.

"Hmm.. nothing" He replies in his low voice.

I'm given no choice but to stand up, as Ethan takes my hands and pulls me up. He then places his own hands around my waist and pulls me in closer. I keep my fingers rested on his biceps, feeling them tighten and loosen as he breathes. It's quite relaxing, standing here, holding each other and I feel as if I could stay like this all night. Except, of course, I can't.

Ethan removes one of his hands from my waist and cups it under my chin, then tilts his head to the left, leans down and kisses my lips. I'm instantly greeted again by the same sparks of energy and the flowing feeling of warmth that I had felt the first time we kissed. I still liked it and the more I felt it, the more I longed for.

As we kissed, I felt myself slowly falling back onto the bed. It was a soft, cushioned landing that made me feel even more comfortable. Ethan followed my movement, stopping a few inches above me, but his lips still against mine. It wasn't long before I felt his hand move from my waist and stroke along my stomach. His touch was soft, gentle and slightly ticklish as his fingers swirled around in patterns across my smooth skin. His fingers soon began to climb up my stomach, edging towards my bra, slowly but surely. When they rested, just inches away, I tensed my body.

"What's wrong?" Ethan asked, obviously feeling my reaction.

His hand moved from my body as I sat up on the bed, a hot, sickly feeling rising up inside of me.

"Umm... sorry, I...I... I can't do this" I stutter, my heart beats increasing by the second. "I'm sorry"

"No, I'm the one that should be apologising" Ethan cut in. "It's my fault"

"It's mine too" I insist.

"No, Zinny. I'm sorry" He stands up, running his hands through his dark hair. "I'll just go now"

"Maybe it's best for tonight" I reply, feeling a little relieved with how he dealt with the situation.

"Yeah, bye then" He says, then turns and leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him.

As soon as I hear the front door close, I sigh deeply. I'm not really sure what just happened, but I think I did the right thing in stopping it from going further. I'm not quite sure why, but I feel slightly guilty. But, I have nothing to be guilty for. Do I? I don't have a boyfriend or anything, so why is my conscience trying to tell me something? Why do I feel a niggling at the back of my mind? I don't understand, but I must be doing something wrong... And why do I seem to chase away every guy that has ever got close to me? What's wrong with me?

It's about ten o'clock when I make an appearance in the lounge. Monroe is no longer making calls, but is sitting on the sofa watching TV. He's pretty much absorbed into whatever is being said on the channel, as he doesn't notice my presence until I speak.

"Hey" I say, taking a seat next to him.

He looks over to me, "Oh, hi Zinnia. Didn't hear you coming"

"What are you watching?" I ask, wondering what could be so interesting.

"Oh, it's just President Snow talking about the next Quarter Quell" He replies, turning back to the screen.

"Oh yeah, that's in a few months, isn't it?" I question.

"Yup" He says, still focusing on the TV.

I nod and look to the screen myself to see what's in store for the next Hunger Games. It will be the 75th Games this year, making it the third Quarter Quell. I've never been alive to see any of the Quells, as they happen every 25 years, but I've heard they're really huge. The last Quell, the 50th Games, they doubled the amount of tributes, so there were 48 in the arena. That was the year Haymitch won, goodness knows how, he seems useless now. Oh well, he must have been good if he beat 47 others.

The show is talking about the excitement behind the next Quell and what the twist might be this year. Snow is being interviewed. When I see his fake smiling face and hear his manipulating voice, I begin to feel hotter inside. Just seeing him, pretending he's this great person, makes me want to scream inside. The act he plays is simply a disgusting attempt to hide his true personality. Only a few know what he's capable of, and those that have crossed him, will never be the same again. I know, because I'm one of those people.

The programme comes to an end and Monroe grabs the remote and the screen blackens. We're left in an awkward silence, neither of us knowing what to say. I stay sitting, just flickering my eyes around the perfectly ordered room. At first, I never thought of Monroe as such a tidy person, but after living with him for a while, I now know that he's obsessively neat. That's not too bad, I suppose. Although, I've never been a tidy person myself. Mother is probably glad to have the house clear of my messy ways. Glad to no longer have muddy footprints decorating the kitchen floor. Glad to no longer have the need to wash stained clothing and patch up the torn edges. Glad to no longer have to sweep up piles of scattered flour that's been left to cover the tiles. I've never been a tidy person, not in the slightest.

"Right, I'm off to bed" Monroe declares, rising from the sofa.

"Yeah, me too" I agree and stand up too.

"Well, goodnight then" He says.

"Night" I reply.

There's an awkward shuffle between us as we make our separate ways. I glance behind me as I open the door and enter the bedroom. Monroe's gone into his room and the door is closed firmly behind him. I sigh and close my door too, shutting out the rest of the world.

I lie awake in the bed, staring up at the ceiling that hangs above me. I can't seem to switch my brain off tonight; thoughts keep me wide awake and alert. I seem to be thinking of everything and everyone tonight. I first begin to wonder about my family back in twelve and how Peeta is after becoming a victor. His victory tour ended a few months ago, so he must be settling into his new life in his new house, with his new clothes, new belongings and new identity. I really do hope that he hasn't changed too much; the Games would have obviously scarred him, but hopefully not totally destroying his true self. The true self that I miss so, so much.

I also think about Finnick; wondering whether he still thinks of me, now I've gone. In some context, I've left him, alone in that horrible life of being sexually used, alone without anyone to help him escape from his living nightmares. I feel awful for it, but really, I couldn't do anything to help the situation. I did what I did to save Peeta and that's that. Finnick made his choice and I made mine. There's no turning back, no matter how hard I cry and cling on to the memories.

Strangely, tonight I even think about Gale. About the good times we shared in the past, when we were... maybe not so, 'in love'. Although I now know that none of it was truly real, it still felt real to me at the time. I think about how he made me happy and those were the times when I used to smile; when I was happy with my life, with no stress and no problems. When the only bad thing I saw was being reaped, but that never happened. I think about how he broke my delicate, teenage heart and even now, I still feel a burning hatred for him. Beneath my other feelings.

Last of all, I think about today. About my little adventure into the world of criminality and the thrill it gave me. The energy rush I'd experienced throughout the whole endeavour and what happened after that. The energy that turned into sparks of light, tickling my whole body when we kissed. When Ethan held me in his arms and how right it felt. But then, when we stood in my room, how it suddenly felt wrong. I still don't know why it felt wrong.

That's the thought that kept me awake that night.

A/N- Aww, I'm sorry I'm making things sad for Zinny, she doesn't seem to have muh luck withguys lately...

Well, let me know what you think about the pairing and the story so far! Keep reading and leave a nice review!

Thanks, FireflyLlama x