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

Twenty two

Coriolanus walked into his house, hanging his satchel on the hook. He went straight to the bathroom, splashing his face with water. Whiskey's screams seem to be following him around in his head.

"Corio. You're home," Tigris smiled. She lent against the doorframe, watching his expression.

He lifted his head and glanced at her through the reflection of the cracked mirror.

"What's wrong?" Tigris frowned, moving to comfort him. She placed her hand on his shoulder but he brushed her off.

"Nothing," he lied, loosening his tie and walking away. But Tigris followed.

"Did you hear that broadcast? Poor Everdeen.  They killed her auntie for stabbing a mentor," she shook her head. "I can't imagine how she feels right now."

Snow turned around, full of rage. "She deserved it, Tigris. She stabbed me."

"You were stabbed?!" Tigris immediate grabbed him, worried. Snow pulled up his sleeve to show the stitches.

Tigris silently examined it. The badly insulated house made Coriolanus shiver. He hadn't been back in this dark house for a few days and he'd forgotten how bad it was. He hated that his family was living here.

"Do you think her auntie deserved to die over it though?" She finally concluded.

"What?" Snow pulled his arm away from his cousin. "Tigris, it's the law. A district tribute stabbed a capital mentor. Someone had to pay."

"But with their life? Your arm is going to be fine. Whiskey's Auntie was an innocent person," Tigris pointed out.

Coriolanus sighed and carefully rolled back down his sleeve. He understood that, but law was law. It existed for a reason. If she was let off, everyone would have to be. Consistency created control and order.

"Last time we spoke, you really liked her. What changed? Why did she stab you?" Tigris asked, trying to piece together the puzzle.

"You always tell me to trust people. Well I trusted her and she left in the middle of the night," he put simply, not really wanting to talk about her. "She betrayed my trust."

Tigris stayed silent for a second, thinking about it. "Wouldn't you?"

"Wouldn't I what?" Coriolanus asked, frowning.

"Wouldn't you leave too? If it was you. She's just trying to survive. Nobody is going to stay and wait to die when there is an opportunity to stay alive," she suggested. "I don't mean to be rude, but you probably had nothing to do with her decision Corio. It was life or death."

This made Coriolanus run his hands through his hair, scoffing. "You don't even know her, Tigris, yet your defending her."

"I met her," she said quietly. "She was very nice and beautiful."

The last word hung in the room for a while, Coriolanus refusing to address it.

Tigris twisted a strand of her blonde hair. "I'm just saying Coriolanus. Sometimes people have genuine reasons for hurting others. And.. maybe the reason you're so upset.. is because of something more?"

"Don't be ridiculous. She's a tribute Tigris," Snow rolled his blue eyes, refusing to admit it. "All that stuff you see on TV is just strategy."

"Even so," Tigris mentioned. "She's beautiful and nice to be around. You may never admit it but is there something more?"

Coriolanus clenched his fists, struggling to comprehend the emotions. He was so angry he let himself be betrayed so easily by her. But he couldn't stop thinking about her. She invaded his brain constantly. There was a reason he waited to see her again at the academy. "She's beautiful," he sighed.

"Could you forgive her?" Tigris smiled. "She was only trying to survive, Corio. She didn't mean to hurt you."

"I can't forgive her," he regained his stubbornness. "And you forget she's due to be executed with the other tributes today. Nothing will stop that."

"Imagine what could've been," Tigris whispered quietly.

Coriolanus left the room, purposely ignoring her. She was too forgiving of everyone. And despite her points, he still felt the same anger towards Everdeen as he had felt before. Nothing was going to change that.

-

Whiskey kneeled on her bloody knees, knowing she deserved the pain. Gree was dead and it was all her fault.

Her fingers still felt the dead cold of skin on her touch. Her auntie had been so cold. She was wearing her usual dress for work, obviously on her way to the markets, never reaching the destination.

Whiskey wondered how her children felt right now. They'd hate her. She killed their mum for stabbing Coriolanus. How could she be so reckless.

"I'm sorry," Ratley suddenly whispered, making her flinch out of her disassociated state.

"What?" She stuttered, her throat croaking.

"I said I'm sorry," he repeated. "I thought you auntie was a good person. I'm sorry they killed her."

"I killed her," Whiskey corrected him. "I did. Not them. It's my fault."

This silenced Ratley. He awkwardly looked back forward, unsure what to say.

In the corner of the room, Whiskey noticed the woman who had been there the night she escaped, watching her. The woman, who she'd over heard was called Dr Gaul, wore a strange red and white coat with bright red gloves. Her gaze was invasive and angry. Obviously, Whiskey had done something to annoy her.

But she couldn't care less if this lady liked her or not. Her auntie was dead and suddenly small things didn't matter anymore.

Suddenly the woman checked her watch. She smirked, calling a peacekeeper over. They nodded and soon everyone was being picked up and pulled towards the exits to be executed. Some tributes screamed, but most stayed silent, already accepting what was to come.

Finally it clicked in her brain. This woman was the games maker. The ambitious psychopath. Whiskey wondered how many people's deaths were on her hands.