THE HUNGER GAMES: the taste of Whiskey and Snow // CORIOLANUS SNOW

Thirteen

Whiskey wasn't allowed to eat with the mentors. Instead, she was forced to stand in the corner of the room, aimed at by the guards like she was going to pounce at any moment.

So there she stood, feeling like some art exhibit. Everyone in the room was looking at her in some obvious or not way. It made her feel subconscious about her bruised forearms and faded black eye. In fact, it made her feel subconscious about everything.

There were so many beautiful, intelligent woman in the room and there Whiskey was. She couldn't complete in any way. They knew it too. The judgement was whispering through the hall.

"Professor Highbottom," a male mentor suddenly said, lead by the support of his mentors. "Why can Coriolanus have his tribute here instead of the zoo? It's not fair for the rest of us."

Professor Highbottom sighed, looking up from his mashed potatoes. "If you have a problem, take it up with the games maker and she'll kill your tribute before the games have started."

This shut the boy up. Everyone went back to eating whilst continuing to stare.

Finally, after waiting for what felt like an infinity of humiliation, Coriolanus came up to Whiskey with some food. "I hope you like this. I wasn't sure so I guessed." He smiled, acting like everything else was invisible. But, of course he didn't care because he wasn't the one being watched. These people were his competitors and he was beating them already.

Whiskey smiled "It's great thanks," and went to take the food from him. However, the second she moved, the guards yelled and loaded their guns, drawing even more attention to the poor tribute.

"Do not move!" They yelled.

"How is she supposed to eat?" Coriolanus complained, looking back at his Professor.

"Guards," Highbottom waved his hands. "Let the girl eat."

They stood down and let the overly humiliated Whiskey have her food. She ate slowly, trying to ignore the eyes. Snow went back to his table and ate his own food, watching her behaviour. He could tell she was uncomfortable and felt bad for bringing her into this situation. He had no idea the guards were going to treat her like this.

"So, how'd you do it? How'd you manage to get special privileges?" One of his class mates asked from across the table. Ears pricked up around the room.

"Yeah, how'd you cheat so easily, Snow?"

Snow ran his fingers through his blonde hair, "I didn't cheat. I'm protecting her from your tributes who were attacking her."

"Why do you care if she survives? I mean look at her. She hasn't got a chance," a girl asked. The others nodded in agreement. "It can't all be for that plinth prize."

Everyone's opinions were starting to annoy Coriolanus. "She's not an animal like you guys think. These tributes are actual people, with families and lives. I'm protecting her because I care about her."

"Sure," one guy rolled his eyes. "I bet he slept with her, that's why he's protecting her." A few people down the tables laughed. "Did you get her pregnant? Is that was it is?"

"Excuse me?" Snow asked, clenching his fists.

"Was she any good? She looks like she'd be a real cracker in bed. What is Flickerman calling her? 'Lovebird'." He watched her in the corner of the room in her black dress, looking her body up and down.

That was too far. Coriolanus jumped from his seat and started punching the boy across the face. His fists collected him several times on the nose, the lips, the eyes, and the boy helplessly lay back in shock, taking the blows. "Don't say that about her ever again," he yelled, slamming him into the ground.

Whiskey watched in the chaos as her mentor smashed in this boys face. "What are you doing?" She exclaimed, knowing she couldn't stop him. What had happened for him to be this mad?

Finally, some guys jumped up and pulled snow off. He stumbled back and pushed the boys off him, cradling his fist.

Coriolanus then walked towards her, thunder storming with anger. "What-" She began but he ignored and instead ordered the guards to take Whiskey to his area. She obediently followed, feeling strangely frustrated. She hated being told what to do.

By the time she reached the room, Whiskey resided to silent confusion. She stood cautiously a pace distant from him, hoping he'd at least explain himself. But she knew she couldn't ask.

He sat on the bed and cradled his bleeding hand, trying to calm himself down. "I'm sorry," he apologised to Whiskey, though he wasn't sure why. He just felt it was the right thing to do.

"It's okay," she reassured him, despite having no real evidence or information to do so. "I know you're a good person."

This made Snow glance up at her strangely. She wished she could tell what he was thinking about.

"What makes you think that?" He questioned, avoiding her confused gaze. In his mind, he reminded himself he was a murderer. He had all the right reasons, but that didn't change the fact someone was dead - her auntie that she loved, nonetheless. He didn't feel guilty but as he watched her unknowingly stand in front of him, with her empathetic eyes, defending his actions, he felt uncomfortable. If she knew the truth, she would hate him.

Whiskey made a bold decision and decided to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. She wasn't really sure what she was doing but she could tell he needed comforting, even if it was from a girl in chains. His blue eyes followed her every move, foggy with complex emotions. "Because you saved me," she reminded him. "You cared about me when nobody else did. You treated me like a human. That makes you good to me."

"Thanks," he smiled, taking the undeserving complements. He was just trying to do the best he could.