The Capitol seems especially dull now.

I'd always assumed following my victory it would be a bright and magnificent place. Maybe if it was just me who won the Hunger Games it would be.

But the two love birds make it impossible to enjoy the splendor of it all.

Some stupid Ball rages on now at Snow's mansion, the bigger sponsors of the games float around us. And by us I mean stupid District 12.

Even the Drunk gets more attention than me.

Not that I'm being ignored completely.

President Snow's sideways glare and the Capital whores seem like plenty.

Enobaria and Brutus are long gone, they want nothing to do with me now it would seem. Not that I blame them.

I might as well get '3' tattooed to my forehead.

I came in third place.

Fucking third...

Brutus says I'm better off dead.

Enobaria won't look at me.

Mellark looks at me with sympathy.

The Drunk laughs like I'm some sort of joke (maybe I am).

But she, she looks at me with a hate all on its own.

'Why are you here? Why not somebody like Rue? Thresh? Foxface? Why you?'

Katniss Everdeen. District Twelve's first volunteer. First girl on fire. Eleven training score.

Fuck Katniss Everdeen.

If I had my way I'd have burned her alive in the arena. Get rid of Twelve's new parade trademark.

Choke her with her own little bow.

Take delight in the knowledge that her little family is watching every moment of her gruesome death.

But somehow it ends completely opposite and I find myself at her mercy. And Loverboy's.

And the little weaklings can't kill me (they should have).

Because I couldn't kill them but they could have ended me but they didn't. They fucking didn't .

And here I am, in the Capitol once more. The Capitol that seemed much brighter from District Two.

District Two that I actually dread to go back to.

I should be dead.

The party's coming to an end and soon we will be herded back to the Training Center.

I polish off my drink hoping it will make things a little less dull.

Because the Capitol is dim and almost impossible to see clearly in.

I do see, however, Snow speaking to Katniss in the corner of the room. Her lovesick dog nowhere in sight.

Her skin seems especially pale in the light.

Pale and light.

She glows.

But then she's speaking to the Drunk in hushed whispers.

Growls.

It's amusing.

Eventually some guy in a sparkling purple suit taps me on the shoulder and informs me it's time to go back.

The little shit should be scared to even make eye contact with me let alone tap my shoulder.

They're not scared of me anymore.

Fuck them.

I ride back alone, the traffic bumper to bumper.

The sky is black save for the few stars that attempt to shine through. For such a 'glamorous' place as the Capital you would think there would be more stars visible. Like back in Two were the sky is bright day and night. I wonder if the night sky is bright in District Twelve? It's at this moment that I realize I'm too drunk for my own good.

Luckily the training center isn't too far from the President's Mansion.

I stumble into the building, a few patrons ask me to take pictures with them. I wonder what would happen if I said no?

Anyway, by the time I get to the second floor I'm sober enough to know that I'm all alone.

Brutus probably hit up the training room, God knows where Enobaria went. Probably fucking one of her fans.

I'm not tired. If anything I'm restless.

I switch on the TV, tonight it plays the 43rd annual Hunger Games.

That year some blonde tramp with big tits won.

I don't care for the bloodshed so I switch over to the 58th.

The ding of the elevator tells me somebody has arrived. I vaguely wonder if it's District Two's escort. He's come over once in a while to bitch about how humiliated he was. 'Because the games aren't about sparing people and blah blah blah.'

Either way he doesn't actually have to be here, not like the other Districts that might try to make a run for it.

Because they are weak. Because they don't understand how the games work.

Because they haven't been brainwashed like I have.

I hate to admit it (not that I will aloud) but maybe somewhere along the way at some point I did get fooled into thinking the Hunger Games were great and that winning would make my life perfect.

The footsteps are light and I immediately rule out any District Two victor. Probably the Escort then.

But it's not a District Two victor or an escort.

Just a victor.

From fucking Twelve.

Despite my anger I smile though it ends up feeling like I'm only twisting my lips up.

"Katniss, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

She doesn't give me one of her smartass answers though. In fact she still looks pale. Snow speaking to her in the corner comes back to mind.

Her eyes are wide her lips pressed together in a tight line. Her fists balled up so tightly that her knuckles have gone white.

And then there's the shaking. Her entire body is racked with tremors.

I keep my mouth shut suddenly genuinely curious about why she's here.

She takes a deep breath, her eyes fall to the floor.

Her mouth opens. Then closes. Opens again.

Closes.

"Whatever you have to say just fucking say Twelve." I growl once my patience thinning.

She gulps down, sighs, meets my eye.

"Snow says Victors have to-to... sleep with patrons..."

Oh.

That's what their talk was about earlier wasn't it? He wants her to fuck sleazy businessmen (and hell maybe women). Didn't she know that?

In District Two it isn't highly advertised but we know that something like this happens. But I guess if I didn't know all the details then she had no idea what she would be getting into.

"And?" I ask. I see the shock float across her face before quickly disappearing.

Her face scrunches up in anger and I know if we were still in the Hunger Games she would kill me on spot.

But this isn't the Hunger Games, this is the second floor of the training center.

"And? And I don't want to do it. But if I don't my family dies. Get my dilemma here?"

I'm not sure why I indulge her. Why I even bother opening my mouth. Maybe coming in third really has messed with my mind and shit.

"And what the hell do you want me to do about that?"

It becomes clear to me after this. The air seems to disappear from the room and I'm left staring at her, my eyes wide and my mouthing opening and closing this time.

Still, I need to hear her say it. Need her to clear it up for me, make sure I'm not some sort of pervert and that I'm not jumping to conclusions.

Her face seems to flood with almost pure red cheeks.

"Look, I've never... you know. And I would rather it be with somebody... somebody not from the Capitol. If that makes sense."

It does. In some strange and twisted way. Much like this conversation.

"So why not Loverboy?"

She winces, her eyes drop once again. I was just impressed she managed to hold eye contact for so long.

"Peeta loves me. I-I don't love him."

"And you love me?" I bark.

She glares, "love you? Like hell. But if I asked this of Peeta he would say yes and it would hurt him to know why I wanted him to... And I just can't do that to him. I can't hurt him anymore then I have already."

"But you can ask me?"

"I just did didn't I?"

That's that. Katniss Everdeen want me to fuck her. Her first time I might add. Because Snow's making her give it up to rich Capitol men and she doesn't want her first time to be with any of them. She wants me to be her first. Because she doesn't want to hurt Loverboy.

Well how 'bout that?

I weigh the pros and cons of this situation. It's rare that I do this. But I'll take the time on this one.

The cons are simple. She's from Twelve, disgusting grimy Twelve. If I say no it might just hurt her, something I've wanted to do for some time now. Then there's the politics of it. Whoever paid to have her might be disappointed to learn she isn't a virgin, a little digging and it could be me they go after.

The pros are a little more complicated. First off she isn't that disgusting, despite her heritage. I would have this to hang over her head, taunt her with it later. Know, that despite his puppy eyes, I've had the girl Mellark genuinely loves. And it's been a while. Before the games with Two's whores who wanted a future Victor.

It's reckless. It's stupid. But it took a combination of both of those to get to this point in my life didn't it?

So I smile, nod my head in the direction of my room.

"After you Twelve."

I don't bother turning the lights on when we walk in. The lights outside give just enough light to see her.

Her hands are still balled up as I shut and lock the door.

I watch her for a moment.

Was I really about to do this?

Yes, yes I was.

The sight of her alone driving me nuts. The idea of taking her in every physical way possible enough to get me going.

Was this the girl I swore to kill only a few weeks ago?

Still leaning against the door I swat out my arm, touching her wrist. She finches, pulling away.

"Can we just get it over with? Do it and be done." She growls. Actually it's more a squeak. Ah. She's nervous.

I smirk, something about seeing her so unraveled gets to me. Seeing her exposed. So unlike the girl with the arrows who actually managed to scare Marvel and get to Clove.

For a moment I think of how unfair it is that a girl like that is subjected to being a Capitol whore.

I shrug off my jacket, letting it fall to the ground. When she hears the quite thump she pulls her eyes away from the bed and looks at the material on the ground. She takes it as her que to get going as well.

She takes her hair down with ease, the elaborate pins being tossed into a pile on the ground until brown curls fall past her shoulders.

I'm out of my shirt by the time she begins to struggle with her dress. The zipper on the back proving troublesome for her.

I sigh. "Let me."

Her body is rigid as I push her hair out of the way. The zipper is tiny in my hands but I manage to pull it down, every second revealing another inch of creamy skin. It goes down to her lower back.

I begin to work on my pants as she slowly drops the dress. The heavy material falling to the ground to meet the pins and my own clothes. Her dress is white and puffy. Like a wedding dress. But she isn't exactly a bride and I'm definitely not a groom.

We're both down to our underwear. She doesn't remove those, just moves over to the bed and falls to the mattress.

"We have the same room." She says, her voice hoarse and trembling.

I go to sit next to her. Giving a small 'hmm.'

We shouldn't do this. She shouldn't have to ask me to do this with her because she's afraid. In a perfect world we wouldn't be doing this because she wouldn't be about to become a courtesan (I won't call her whore. Just because everything feels intense right now). In a perfect world we wouldn't have met because there would be no Hunger Games.

My hands rest on her shoulders.

"You have to relax. It will hurt if you're to tense right now."

If anything she stiffens up more.

Maybe this one time I'll try to be gentle.

With a sigh I push her back onto the mattress, coming to hover over her. My hands on either side of her head and my feet resting between her legs on the ground.

I dip my head down, pulling her into a kiss.

Her lips hold against my own, still and unsure.

I remember the recap that Mellark, her and I had to watch. The kisses her and Peeta shared. She usually initiated them, her lips moving more than his.

When I pull away her glare seems to burn through her nervousness.

"I told you we should just do it." She says, her voice cracking once more. "No kissing." She adds in as an afterthought.

I roll my eyes. "You don't want foreplay? Because I'm fine with just getting down to business. It won't be pleasant for you though."

Her expression is confusion and fear.

I roll my eyes, it's tempting to just fuck her now. I'm more than ready.

But that damn confused face.

With a sigh I reach behind her and unclasp her bra with ease.

Despite being so skinny, almost sickeningly so, she has pretty good tits.

I kiss each one before taking one in my mouth and massaging the others. It's the first time I make Katniss Everdeen moan, it vibrates in the room and makes it a little less cold.

I glance up, excited to see her face in something other than a glare or grim determination of crappy acting. Instead she wears a face of flushed pleasure. I can't help but groan, her breast still in my mouth which sets her off as well.

I kiss down her stomach, further and further to her hips. I grab her with my hands and push her further onto the bed before jumping up myself.

Her eyes are glazed over but you can still see the sad in them.

I do my best to push this out of my mind as I slide her panties down her legs. Freshly waxed and smooth.

My own boxers coming off.

Her face heats up, she looks at me. I'm assuming out of curiosity. She quickly looks away though.

Moment of truth, time seems frozen. Like we're the only people left in the world. I don't love her. I don't even like her. I'm just doing her a favor.

I still don't understand why I say it though. "You can pretend I'm Mellark."

And then I slide in.

She doesn't cry out but she does pull me up and drags her nails against my skin. Makes sense. She is a hunter. Hunter's don't make noises, they keep to the physical aspects of things.

These thoughts are vague and in the deeper part of my mind.

Really all I can think about is how tight she is. How warm and wet she is. How bony her arms are, still wrapped around me. Her hot breath against my shoulder.

I don't move for a moment. Letting her get used to this.

I can hear explosion, fireworks going off outside. I take a moment to smile at the irony. Coming together in fireworks.

When I think she must have gotten somewhat used to me I give a small thrust. She scratches once more and this time she gives me a small gasp.

I feel a swirl of pride in my chest for this.

"Ready for more?" I ask, my mouth hovering over her ear.

"Yes." She says quickly.

That's all it takes for me.

The next few thrusts are a bit quicker. I slow and take a glance at her face. Her eyes are closed, but not scrunched as if in pain so I continue.

I speed it up a bit, my own body becoming impatient.

This time she gives a long series of moans.

I nip at her shoulder, leaving a small mark that will probably be a bruise tomorrow. It's a pleasure to know she will see it and remember me.

That whoever fucks her next might see this and know somebody beat him to the punch.

"Faster." She groans.

I don't argue, moving deeper inside of her.

But it's not enough, not enough to bring us both over the edge anyway.

I pause, she cries out and I have to bite my lip to stop my own cry.

I grab the heels of both her legs and pull them up. She seems to get the idea and wraps them around my waist.

I pull out as far as I can go without leaving her completely and slam back inside. She screams, her eyes rolling back and her body pulling mine closer. I meet her demands of faster and harder.

I've never felt closer to anybody in my life.

I have to remind myself that this is nothing. Just fucking.

But it feels like more than that.

I can't keep this train of thought. A familiar tightening in my abdomen tells me I'm about to lose it. I use every bit of restraint I have until I feel her muscles clench around me, her entire body giving off spasms as she screams out loud. I can only hope my mentors have not returned.

But what surprises me more than anything (besides the fact that we're actually doing this) is that it's my name she's screaming. My name. Not Mellark's.

I give one final thrust, coming undone and falling on top of her, her own name rolling off my tongue over and over.

Katniss Katniss Katniss Katniss.

The room is spinning, all I feel is her sweaty flesh pressed against mine. I bury my face into her shoulder, her hair splaying out in every direction. I'd worry if I was crushing her or not but her hands still rest on my back. Is she drawing patterns on my skin?

Our breathing is hard, raspy.

Still, I can't help but think, and I know she must be thinking the same thing.

What the hell did we just do?