FIRE AND ICE, p. mellark

𝐯𝐢: 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤

Nemesis dipped a piece of her roll in hot chocolate absentmindedly as she waited for Clove and Cato to make an appearance for breakfast.

She picked up that habit from, oddly enough, Haymitch Abernathy a few years back. When she was 14 and in the Capitol for the first time, Haymitch had a tribute who was easily a contender. Martie Undersee. So, he drank less. For a couple of days, that is, until Martie died after instigating a fight against his allies.

Martie's allies were from District 2.  His allies were Nemesis and Gabriel. She didn't remember why he attacked them, but looking back, she assumed it was a pure realization that only one person comes out. It was a check into reality. Martie had gone mad with fear.

Martie's surprise attack was the only time Nemesis was caught off-guard and nearly died. His attack alone was what scared her the most.

In fending him off, Gabriel took a knife to the chest. He died with no regrets, or so he told her. But Nemesis was past trusting people by then. She avenged him, but really, it was out of pity for Martie. The poor boy was bleeding after the altercation he had instigated, his insides threatening to come out; he was choking on his own blood. He stared at Nemesis pleadingly, and she knew he was past saving. So she put him out of his misery. Immediately after, she involuntarily shut down, relying purely on instinct from then on.

Haymitch went straight back to the drinks.

Nemesis remembered the first time she spoke to him, he was nearly sober. Before the games began, he was on their floor in the Tribute Center, speaking with Orion and Enobaria about the alliance. The three stood by the end of the long rectangular table, laid with more food than Nemesis could eat in a week.

She sat down, nodding good morning to the three adults. She was overwhelmed by her options, so Nemesis concluded that she may skip breakfast. She'd rather that than have too much and throw up all over the Training Room. 

Orion had gone to wake Gabriel and Enobaria had gone to change. Haymitch noticed that Nemesis, the strong, widely-adored District 2 tribute, looked small and on edge. He struck up a conversation with her which she hesitantly indulged in; she was appalled to see that he was not drunk.

Haymitch made her laugh, he gave her a sense of comfort that she didn't know she needed, one that she would never need again. He showed her what he would have for breakfast almost every morning; he'd simply take a roll and break bits off, dipping them into hot chocolate.

Ever since then, Nemesis had done that whenever she got the chance.

She wondered if he did the same for his tributes this year. He didn't seem quite too sober, but she heard from Orion that Haymitch met with his tributes after the parade. She hoped he was doing well.

Nemesis heard a light noise coming from the hallway that shook her out of her thoughts. She leaned to the side to see Clove and Cato messing around, making each other laugh. She looked away, out of respect. They were grasping each others' hands again.

Out of the numerous options for breakfast, Nemesis stuck to her rolls and cups of hot chocolate. It was a simple meal, but even then, would be very difficult to acquire back in District 2 as a common resident. She wondered what Poncie would think of her everlasting 'barbaric' mannerisms.

"Wo-o-ah, break it up, love doves."

Nemesis rolled her eyes. Classic Orion. A red-faced Cato and a reticent Clove exited the hallway, Orion right on their tails.

"Nemesis," Orion sang, far too merrily for the morning. "I think we have a pair of lovebirds on our hands."

"Shut up," Clove hissed.