Flora slowly surrounded the tree, one hand grabbing the whip and the other touching the cable of one of the knives, ready to throw it if needed. When she was on the opposite side of the tree, she looked around, trying to spot Karina in the middle of the green sight.
Flora retrieved to her floor after the interviews, twirling around the lobby. She kept her secrets well hidden, which was something that she loved and, like that wasn't enough, her dress was the most spectacular thing she had ever wear! Flora couldn't be happier about her stay in the Capitol. With a relaxed smile she sat on the couch, a glass of red wine in her hand. Slate had stayed on the big lobby downstairs and Pace was probably in his own floor. She was alone and she had finally some time to think over everything that had been happening. Flora was pondering about the other tributes, making a checklist of scores and interviews inside her head when Atalia got out of the elevator.
"You sure are a secretive one, hum?" She asked in a rhetorical tone, searching for the bottle of wine. Flora nodded in the direction of a wooden cabinet and Atalia opened it, smiling and pouring herself a drink of a yellowish container. "Everyone should like secrets. They keep our world spinning," she took a sip of her drink, delighting herself with the sweet touch of the red wine, as Atalia shook her head in agreement. "There's something we need to talk about, Flora," her voice had a serious tone and her expression hardened. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad. Just a little thing I need you too...explain me." Flora could see that Atalia was choosing her words carefully and that was worrying her, but she smiled and got ready to hear whatever her mentor had to say. "I'm happy with your score so I can't say you've been distracted, but everything in the Arena is different, you do know that, don't you?" Flora looked confused, her head slightly tilted to the side. "You need to be ready to kill him," the words got out of her mouth in such an ordinary way that it took another second for the girl to realize what she meant. When she did, her eyes focused on the colorful carpet.
Pace. No, she never considered that. And she didn't want to either. "Atalia I-" Flora stopped herself. There was no discussion possible. Atalia killed the boy she was, supposedly, in love with during her Games and now she thought that that was her plan. To make Pace trust her so she could kill him more easily. Flora took a deep breath, trying to imagine the emptiness she would feel without him. Pulling her hair back, her expression lost every kind of happiness but she putted on a fake, dry of emotions smirk. "Yes. I'm ready to kill him." Atalia grinned and laughed briefly. "That's my girl! The way he looks at you...you have Pace in your trap, Flora." Clapping happily, she got up. "Now, you should go to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day and I want you glowing!" Flora obeyed, waving and trying her best to smile.
Already in the quiet privacy of her room, Flora sat on the bed. She was in his trap. For all she knew, he could have that exact same plan. Act like he did; make her love him so he could slice her throat open. That robotic fear she knew so well filled her body entirely. Pace could be making up a perfect plan to kill her at that exact moment. That's why he stayed with her when she melted down. That's why he was so perfect, the only reason why he took care of her. Probably Slate wanted to do the same thing to poor Canes! Flora crawled on the bed and leaned against the wall, pushing her legs to her chest, shutting her eyes closed and rocking back and forth, hitting her head on the wall a few times.
In the next hour she drifted between consciousness where she knew that he wouldn't hurt her and total confusion when the only thing she saw was Pace, killing her in all the ways she could think of, looking at her with joking eyes, so she knew just how bad he had played her. All her body was aching, asking for a good night sleep, but it seemed impossible. Her heart was racing and she was fighting a battle against herself. He’s going to kill me. No he’s not. Yes, he is. The same repeating, boring story that made her go mad. Flora had no idea of how much time had passed when she started to bite the edge of the bright pink bed sheet to hide her agonizing screams.
Another hour passed. Or maybe two, she couldn't be sure. The images behind her eyelids stopped as brutally as they had begun and Flora opened her eyes slowly. Her vision was blurry and she felt even more exhausted. Sliding down the wall, she rested her head on her arm, leisurely evening her breath. She took a minute to focus and think clearly. He wouldn’t betray her; not without giving her a chance to fight back. Those things inside her head were there to scare her but she could stop them now. Thinking about Pace, about the way he hold her in his arms and said he loved her, that destroyed those horrific thoughts.
“I need a drink,” she said to the shadows hidden in her room. Getting up at cost, she walked to the lobby, her hand on the wall so she wouldn’t lose strength and fall. The lights were out and it was hard to see on the darkness, but Flora was able to found the cabinet fumbling throw the walls. Opening it, she grabbed the first bottle she could find with a shaky hand and turned around, walking back to the solitude of her room. Atalia wanted her to kill him. She wanted her to be another of her pets, to follow her precious tracks. But she wouldn't win this at the cost of betraying Pace, not when every moment they had together made her have butterflies on her stomach. If the moment came, she would think it throw but the idea of such an evil plan made her sick. Flora laughed at how changed she was; before meeting him, that idea would have left a sparkle in her eyes.
Flora threw the bottle to her bed and entered the bathroom. Looking at the mirror she saw the big purple circles under her puffy eyes. “If you look like that even I would kill you,” she complained to her reflection, pushing her hair back and studying herself carefully. “You’re wrong. He’s not going to betray you,” she fixed her eyes in the mirror, feeling a little better. Then, she washed her face, refreshing her skin and her ideas. “No you’ll stop being psychotic.” Flora turned away, taking a deep breath. “And stop talking to yourself. That’s just strange.”
Sitting on the bed with a more relaxed posture, she stared at the bottle. Drinking was not a thing she should do. She was entering the Arena in the next day, and everything that could make her less focused needed to be avoided at all costs. Quickly, so she wouldn’t change her mind, the bottle was retrieved to the cabinet. Going back to her room, Flora didn’t need the help of the wall which made her smile. That had been a moment of weakness, but she would take all that poison out of her brain and she would do it before leaving that Arena. When her body sank on the mattress, under the protection of the sheets, she started to organize her thoughts. Even if the fact of them being careers made it possible, she knew Pace wouldn’t kill her, not until only the two of them stood in that Arena. It was just like he said; they’re humans before being careers.
Flora was quickly led into the Justice Building and into a fancy room, full of the best that District Two had. She was never poor, not even close, but this was more than she could imagine. Especially the fabrics, those ones were especially beautiful. Someone knocked on the door and she took a deep breath. It was time to handle her crying parents.
"Flora." Her mother was already calling before the door was even open and, without ceremonies, she ran to her. Flora responded to the hug, trying to calm her mother down. "I'm okay mom. I'll come back, don't worry." She fondles her mothers hair, smiling.
Flora was the girl who everyone looked up to in training. Not just because of her skills, but because she was the typical rich girl, the stereotype that everyone wanted to be, and in her head that gave her an advantage. She knows how to rule people without them even realizing and she would, for sure, use that ability in the arena. "I'm not scared," she said, with all of this in mind.
"I'm not crazy about that district partner of yours," her father spoke up. "Everyone knows his kind." Flora rolls her eyes. "Slate is a broken boy, dad." Being apart of the high class in the district, she knew that every girl wanted Slate, and a lot of them had him but they always wanted more than what he could give. "You know what I mean." Flora got closer to her father. "I do, daddy. But I'm innocent, remember?" She pouts, giggling slightly.
The wooden door hits the wall. "Time to go." A peacekeeper says with a blank voice. "Flora, be safe, please. You have to come back to us." Her mother hugs her one last time and, when she finally pulls away, Flora smiles, seeing them get out and the door closing. She's alone. Probably no one else is coming and if she was honest with herself, she had to admit she was happy with that.
