Four

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"What's a mentor?" Whiskey asked, scopeing him out like a lion with its prey. "How come nobody else has one."

"Oh they do," Snow answered, stepping closer. The wind seemed to grow colder the closer he got. "I just wanted to meet you first."

Whiskey watched him suspiciously, keeping her distance. She'd never been this close to a capital boy before and she wasn't going to let her guard down now. "Why should I trust you?"

Snow smiled, "Because you have to. Or you'll die." He held out a single rose towards her.

In the grey coal mines of district 12, Whiskey had never lay her eyes on a rose before. It was a barren and cold place, no flower as delicate as a rose could ever survive. It smelled fresh and rich, not something she was used to.

From Coriolanus's view, he watched curiously as this girl reached out her hand to gently touch the pedals. He'd never seen anyone so hypnotised by a rose before. To be fair, he'd never anyone like her before. She had features he'd never seen in the capital; Deep green eyes, long dark eyelashes, and wild mane of hair. She looked nothing of capital beauty, yet... he found himself staring.

Suddenly, Ratley appeared next to Whiskey and grabbed her arm. "Come on Whisk. We need to go." He looked Coriolanus up and down, realising he was from the capital. "What are you doing here?" He asked, suspiciously.

Snow ignored this boy and instead watched how his tribute's attention was immediately drawn away from the rose to their touch. He quietly noted how she glanced up at this boy.

"Are you from the capital?" The tall boy wearing last-seasons-capital-fashion asked.

"Enough questions," Coriolanus sighed and tucked the rose into his shirt. "Whiskey come with me." He turned and waited for her to follow.

Whiskey froze and looked from Ratley to Coriolanus. "I'm not leaving Ratley," she said, staying by his side. "And we need fo catch a truck."

Snow paused in the dirty train station and looked over to the dark truck they were meant to be at. "Fine," he smiled, taking Whiskey's hand before she could respond. "Let's go to the truck together."

"What?-" Ratley began but Whiskey was already being dragged away from him. She looked back at Ratley's frown, feeling humour in the chaos of it all. Ratley, however, was not amused. In his hand sewn waist coast, he crossed his arms disapprovingly and begrudgingly followed.

In front of her, the capital boy in the red that smelled like roses checked for guards then jumped aboard the truck. He stopped and offered her a hand to climb aboard, smiling at her expression.

Whiskey had to admit, whoever this boy was, he had guts. Nobody had tried so hard for her before. It was strange, but she enjoyed it. After all, he was risking his reputation by choosing to hangout with the district scum, just for her.

All the other tributes glared at Snow. Whiskey watched as a tall muscular man across from her was eyeing him up and down. Based on his tough hands, she assumed he was from district 7. He was strong too, certainly strong enough to kill her. Out of all the tributes, he held her bet for winner.

In the corner was a little girl, barley 12 years old yet her legs weren't even long enough to reach the ground from the bench. She was staring at the ground with a grey face, moving along with the bumps of the truck.

Whiskey's eyes flicked back to Coriolanus Snow. He was standing up, holding onto his satchel, staring into the corner. Something about it frustrated her. He was immune to the reality of the games because he was a rich capital boy. He never knew was it was like waiting to hear if he was going to be slaughtered. He could never understand.

Just as Snow glanced in Whiskey's direction, the door suddenly swung open. Like they were bags of rubbish, everyone was emptied out into the dirt cage. Whiskey fell forward into the Zoo and rolled in through dirt, collapsing into Snows chest. He wrapped his arm around her to stop the momentum.

"You okay?" He asked, brushing back her curly mane of hair from his face. His sincerity in his piercing blue eyes shocked Whiskey.

"Yeah." She began, climbing of him. "Sorry about that."

His hand stayed by her waist as they helped each other up. Snow smiled at her, flicking back his blonde locks. "Thanks."

Whiskey was about to ask if he was okay when he suddenly spotted the cameras by the edge of the cage. He immediately stepped away, dropping his hand and brushing the dirt of his red clothes.

Whiskey glanced around the cage she was staying in, taking in her new surroundings for the next few weeks. There were a few dried up trees and a couple of stones by the edge. Everything about it was grim and uncomfortable, just like district 12. It was going to feel like home.

The sound of clicking and staring made Whiskey finally face the metal bars separating her from humanity. A crowd had gathered to stare at the animals to the slaughter.

"Come here," Snow called her over. A camera was flashed into her face. "I wanted to introduce the world to my tribute. Whiskey Everdeen."

"Well she's a wild looking one isn't she just," the man behind the camera laughed obnoxiously.

Snow grabbed her hand. "She's a survivor," he corrected.

Lucky Flickerman picked up on this little gesture and raised his eyebrow slightly. "Holding hands with the tributes now are we! What a sight to see ladies and gentlemen."

Whiskey tried to smile in front of the camera but then she caught a sight of Ratley watching her. She immediately felt ridiculous. What was she doing? She wasn't a performer. She tried to untwist her hand from Snow's but he held on tightly, refusing to let go. Whiskey went pink thinking about what Ratley could be thinking right now. He was going to be judging her. The last thing she had left in her life was Ratley, the boy she'd loved for almost six years, she couldn't lose him now acting like a fool for some crowd.

"Oh and Miss Everdeen's gone pink! Do we have a little crush now on your mentor?" Lucretius asked invasively. A few people laughed at her.

"What?" Whiskey replied feeling flustered, "No, I was.." She tried to turn back around to find Ratley but he had vanished. "I was looking for my friend-"

Snow smirked, taking over but enjoying the show, "Flickerman we've only met today, don't be ridiculous."

"Oh, wow," Lucky Flickerman laughed. "That's a bit fast then isn't it? Whiskey Everdeen must be a little lovebird then. Hear that folks? The tribute from district 12, the lovebird."

Whiskey started to complain with her reputation, "What did you say? I'm not-" she tried to defend herself but Snow pulled her away from the cage. Lucretius moved onto the next tribute.

Whiskey pushed Coriolanus away. "I'm not a lovebird!" She complained.

"Let it go," Snow calmed her down. "Who cares what these people think? You know who you are so that's all that matters. Just let them hear what they want, Lovebird. That's how'll you'll live."

THE HUNGER GAMES: the taste of Whiskey and Snow // CORIOLANUS SNOWWhere stories live. Discover now