𝒙𝒙𝒗𝒊𝒊. victors' banquet

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★★★


THE FIRST THING I'M AWARE of when I'm hit by the bright lights of the stage is Clove Kentwell, standing just a few paces away in a light blue dress. Her hair is down, and her dark green eyes look vibrant with the added makeup. She does not look at all like a girl who has killed.

Then the cheering washes over me in a wave, and I feel overwhelmed faced with all the cameras and people before Clove strides over and takes my hand, raising it up high. The audience goes wild.

I turn to look at her, and she nods at me with a small smirk.

"I'm pretty sure this is the part where we kiss," I say, just loudly enough for her to hear.

To my surprise, she laughs. "Yeah, I think so too."

Clove loops an arm around my neck and pulls me down for a kiss, and somehow the crowd cheers even louder. For a second, I close my eyes and have trouble holding down a smile, only focusing on her soft lips on mine. Part of it doesn't feel real, like I'm floating in a nightmare disguised as a dream, but I shove that feeling aside for now.

The show continues. It's a little hard to concentrate when Enobaria Goldthorn is watching me like an extremely scary hawk to make sure I don't fail spectacularly like she explicitly said, but I think I pull it off alright.

Usually, the victor sits in a single, elaborately decorated chair for the show, but this time there's a small velvet couch for both of us to sit on. I'm a little awkward at first, unsure on what to do. How do people act when they're in love? I think of the shy, stammering way Peeta Mellark confessed his feelings back in the first interview. I think I have that part down, at least.

Clove catches me trying to subtly inch my arm around her. With another laugh, she smoothly wraps it around her shoulder and curls up closer to me, fitting naturally. I blush.

"You're cute," she says teasingly, which draws an "awww" from Caesar and our live audience.

Back to the show. Caesar Flickerman is brilliant as usual, cracking jokes and praising the two of us to the skies (which is embarrassing but sweet), and I almost feel fine again before it's time to watch the recap of the Games. The lights dim, drawing our attention to the large screen. My heartbeat speeds up, and I feel panic slowly creeping up my spine. I don't want to be here, I don't want to watch those twenty-two children die again.

As if sensing my nervousness, Clove takes my other hand in hers. Her eyes are steely with their usual determination. "Don't panic," she whispers.

Don't panic. Practically the only thing that got me through the Games. I look to where the mentors are sitting, and Wiress gives me a reassuring smile. Don't panic.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 ❪ clove kentwell ❫Where stories live. Discover now