A/n- Sorry its taken so long to update. I'm going to try to get more regular with updates, so there will be new chapters or updates on my profile or blog. I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned my writing blog on this fic, so if you have a tumblr and want a link to my writing blog, it is on my profile. Or I you can private message me if you wlink the link to my personal blog.

By the way, I am starting to get into alternate points of view. Let me know who you want next. I will gladly take all suggestions regarding my fics. That includes one shot ideas.

Chapter three

Glimmer's point of view

We have been in District Thirteen for several days now, and it's absolutely surreal. It is still shocking that this place even exists, and the fact that we are are all alive? Unbelievable.

That's the weird part, though. No one who isn't in District Thirteen knows. There is some possibility that in the future we can communicate with the outside world, but not yet. I like it, in a way. If they knew about us, who knows when we would get away from the cameras and probing questions that no one wants to answer?

In the mean time, I've been trying to get to know the other tributes. But that's easier said than done. Most of them are still understandably terrified of our little group. I just want to prove to them now that that isn't who we really are. Had circumstances been different, we would never have acted the way we did. We acted strong, because we are weak. We allowed ourselves to become brainwashed and crack under pressure. I blame no one but ourselves for letting that happen. But now, we are going to have to try even harder to gain trust.

As would be expected, allies from the arena and training, as well as district partners, are the ones who stay together here. But I want to distance myself from them as much as possible, for fear that I may turn back to my old ways. That can't happen, it just can't. But there is one of them that I can't leave.

Marvel Caverly and I came from the same district. We never were very close until we got assigned to some of the same training classes months before we both volunteered for the games. I don't feel as if I need him, or even that I'm sure of our relationship. We're not close friends, but we are more than acquaintances.

That's what I say to my pounding heart every time he walks on by. Ever since our second day of training in the Capitol, when we had one of our first real conversation, I've found him even more attractive. Sure, with that perfect sense of humor and amazing dark green eyes, he was never exactly looked down on by, well, anyone. But something happened that day.

Unfortunately, that day was also three days after he had met Clove Hadley at the opening ceremonies. He has barely stopped talking about her since. It doesn't make sense to me. They don't even know each other, and yet he's obsessive. The two of us at least know each other as people, whereas with Clove, he looked at her from a distance and went loopy.

Sometimes I pretend that I'm only imagining this, and that he's never even seen Clove. But its no use. I am, of course, well aware of how mad he is for her. It's adorable in a way, or it would be, if I could just get over him already.

I very vividly remember our first day reunited in District Thirteen. They had just pulled him from the arena, along with the little girl from District Eleven. They had to do some sort of artery reconstruction, and so I wasn't allowed to see him for a while. But when I did, it was the first time I was thankful for another chance at life...

I walked through the sterile hallways of District Thirteen. Finally, I had permission to go see Marvel. They had warned me that he may not be fully aware, or lucid, but I didn't care. I just had to be there. And besides, they'd shown me a video of what happened, so I would be more surprised if he was completely normal already.

I got into the room only minutes after they had finished whatever operations they had to do, including the one to get the tracker out. So when I came in, he still wasn't looking so good. Not in the traditional sense, of course. He still looked wonderful. I mean that in the 'I can tell he just nearly bled out' way. Anyway, as I waited for him to wake up, I watched as the blood transfusion slowly leaked in. As it did, the heart monitor started getting steadier. For me, it was the opposite; my heart pounded in anticipation.

It took several hours, but eventually his awareness slowly returned. There was a foggy, disoriented look across his face and eyes, but I didn't think anything of that. What left the lingering impression was after...

I brushed my fingertips across his face a few times. After a bit, he gripped them. "Come here," he had mumbled. I leaned in, happy to oblige.

My hair had fallen forward, hiding our faces in a yellowish curtain of sorts. His fingertips tangled up in it, gently twirling the strands. They glided up to my neck, then to cup my face, pulling it closer down...

"No," I had said, pulling away. "You're not thinking clearly. We aren't going to do this. Not yet."

"Later?"

"Later," I promised, allowing myself to believe it, too. "Later. Now go back to sleep."

Of course, later didn't happen. Not after the thoughts stopped blurring, and Clove came back into the picture.