VENUS《 FINNICK ODAIR

Chapter 24. FIRST SNOW.

THE CHILL WINTER AIR WAS SUBDUED BY ADRENALINE. Her heart was in her throat, beating and pumping like a snare drum, reverberating in her lungs. This was it. She was in deep now.

     Because Snow clearly didn't want to chat over a cup of tea.

     The suited escort led her through a backdoor in the gardens, away from the hustle and technicolour of the ballroom. A few people were scattered amongst the gardens, but none bothered to turn their heads at the two figures melded to shadow.

     No witnesses. Even better.

    An echo of the party remained in the foyer: scattered glasses, plates and feathers. The Capitol really have the world in their hands, dont they?

      Edith was guided through a maze of corridors, each one impeccably decored with embroidered rugs, golden framed oil paintings and vases of dewy roses.

    Her guide gave a  pause gesture, whilst he consulted a servant standing by a small foyer. Edith sensing he might be a while, took a small detour down an ornate, short corridor. From there, she was in another hallway, however this hallway overlooked the ballroom.

       The view was utterly magnificent minus the drunk Capitolites. It was something out of a fairytale; pairs slow danced in swift steps and harsh laughter, slightly drowsy from a long night of frivolity and white wine.

     An orchestral melody echoed through ornately embellished hallway, sending her into a daze. Such extravagance for one night, and yet in the Districts, a single slipper could pay for a month's worth of grain for a family. It made her homesick. Edith ached for fiddles and tambourines over quartets and a pumping headache. She longed for her brother and sisters. Edith wanted her mother, Mali. She wanted Cecelia and Woof and little Lucy and the rest of the Hall's. She wanted to be home.

    "Miss Edith?" The escort coughed. Immediately Edith stumbled, once she gained her footing she followed the man, a clickety clack in her step.

     She was slower than him, somehow his feet flew up staircases and sped through rugs. Heels, no matter how pretty they are, were not made for carpeted stairs. Edith sighed, I suppose maybe I'll trip down a staircase and I won't ever have to meet Snow.

     The plan was cut short, the escort abruptly stopped, sending her nearly flying; however the heel punctured the carpet, holding her in place.

    The escort, a man with greying hair, turned calling her forward, his suit tailings flying behind in reaction.

     "You are to do as President Snow says, he has the highest authority and will use it if offended," he ordered, unlocking the ornate golden door.

    Edith gulped. "Of course, thank you."

    The escort nodded and swiftly departed, leaving Edith to open it herself.

Oh god what have I done.

Surely he won't hurt my family, they aren't in the spotlight, they aren't apart of this. Cecelia made sure they wouldnt be a problem.

Is this about not sharing my birthday? Is that considered insulting?

 Maybe he does this with every victor.

      Edith swallowed. She avoided the one true answer. Spoken by the Golden Boy of 4 himself.

"If they are desirable enough..."

     Edith didn't know if she even believed if he was telling the truth that night, or if their conversation really happened. Because the boy after the Games was not the same one who asked to share her makeshift bed to watch the sun rise.