𝒙𝒗𝒊𝒊. the unlikeliest of alliances

6.9K 269 125
                                    

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


★★★


"AN ALLIANCE," SHE SAYS SKEPTICALLY when I'm finished talking. "Really."

"Um, yes." It's a little hard to think clearly when the most dangerous tribute in the Games is standing right in front of you with a jacket full of knives, but at least the pain from my burn has subsided. The cream really did work. "You recruited Ga—the boy from my district."

Clove regards me suspiciously. "And?" From the less-than-pleased expression on her face, I don't think she likes him very much.

"It's because of his smarts, isn't it?" I don't want to let on that I know about the mines. "I saw you talking to him at the Training Center before."

Clove just scoffs. "Glimmer talked to him. I, personally think we don't need him, but no one listens to me." She accentuates her statement with a roll of her eyes and a half-smirk. "Anything else left to say before I kill you?"

Okay, wrong way to go about things. Clove's uninjured hand is twitching back to her jacket, and I have no doubt she could slice my throat easily with her left. "Wait!" I cry as she pulls out another knife, a longer one with a smooth, shiny edge. "Um, think about the benefits. You're still injured—"

Clove snarls. "I am not weak."

"I didn't say you were!" I yelp. "Just, I'm sure you could easily kill me right now and find your way back to the Careers and win the whole Games by yourself, but..." Suddenly, I get an idea. "What about food?"

She blinks at me. "Food?"

"Yeah. We're pretty far away from the Cornucopia, I think. Do you have enough food to last the journey?"

I remember something Beetee told me, back in the Capitol when we were training. The Careers have unrivaled fighting skills, but they aren't used to being hungry. Not like we do. Without their food supplies at the Cornucopia, they are nothing.

Clove crosses her arms. "You think I can't find food by myself?"

"I... think it would be in your best interest to have me as an ally," I say evasively.

She stares at me for an unnervingly long time, and I fight the urge to look away from those dark green eyes. It seems she's weighing her options, but before she can say anything, another silver parachute comes drifting down.

Clove looks up with a frown. I could run away right now, since she's distracted, injured and obviously still a bit shaky from being stuck in my trap for so long... But some unknown urge begs me to stay, so I don't move as she takes the parachute, labelled with the number 2, and opens it.

"Huh," she mumbles, pulling out a wrapped-up sandwich. I can practically see the gears turning in her head, and she lets out an annoyed sigh along with a muttered sentence that sounds suspiciously like "fuck you, Enobaria".

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 ❪ clove kentwell ❫Where stories live. Discover now