Chapter Six

After dinner, Corey found he was unable to sleep. He was too restless to go to bed, even, so instead, he decided to get to know his way around the Training Centre a little better, considering this is the last place he'll ever live in. After a few minutes of wandering around aimlessly, he comes upon a staircase with a sign labelling it as 'to roof'. Curious, Corey takes it. It leads him to a small, dome-shaped room, with a door leading onto the actual roof.

The view is stunning. He's so high up that the lights of the city below Corey look like they could be multicoloured fireflies, and the sounds are all but muted through the gentle rustling of the breeze through the expansive garden laid out before him. For a moment, all Corey can do is stare. Maybe some things about the Capitol aren't so bad, after all.

Corey takes his time to wander through the flowers and trees, stopping every so often to examine a flower or a bud. He's made it through what he guesses to be about half the garden when the soft murmur of voices reaches him. Figuring whoever it is is up here for the same reason he is- privacy and some fresh air, he turns and walks in the opposite direction of the voices, eventually coming to lean against the rail on the edge of the building.

If he closes his eyes and focuses on the wind, he can almost pretend he's back home, standing on their little porch after a long day, just breathing and letting the wind slowly tug his hair back from his face.

"Didn't expect to find you up here," A voice says from beside Corey, who- if not for his tight grip on the handrail, likely would've fallen over.

"Jesus Christ, Peeta! You scared the shit out of me!"

Peeta laughs, patting Corey gently on the back. "Sorry, I thought you heard me coming." He leans against the bar beside Corey, their arms barely brushing. "Are you alright? You must've been pretty lost in thought to miss me coming up on you."

"Yeah. Just homesick, I guess. And angry." Corey huffed out a brush of air that could've been a laugh.

Peeta nodded. "That, I can understand. Do you wanna talk about it?" He was looking at Corey with such big, honest eyes that it felt like Corey couldn't even look right at him.

"It's just that...I don't even know, really. Everything here is so extravagant, and back home, there were so many of us that barely got by. It feels a little unfair, you know?"

Peeta hummed in agreement. "Why us, right?" He muttered. "How long are we going to be punished for something that happened before we were even born? Before any of us were even born? There's hardly anyone left who even remembers the revolution, so why do we still need to pay for it, right?"

This time, Corey did laugh, a humourless, sad-soaked sound as he held back tears. "And when we're gone, it's going to keep happening. I have little siblings, you know? What's going to happen to them? They get to watch me die. And then it'll be their turn. I don't want this for them." Corey finally dissolved into tears again, leaning his head down and trying to breath through the sobs that threatened to consume him again.

But this time, he wasn't alone. Peeta wrapped an arm around the crying boy next to him, and when Corey didn't move away, he brought his other arm up and trapped him in a tight hug, pushing Corey's face against his shoulder and rubbing small circles on his back. After a few minutes, Corey pulled back. Not out of Peeta's arms, but far enough that they could look each other in the eyes.

"Sorry," Corey whispered. "I'm staining your shirt."

Peeta laughed, and Corey felt it where their chests were pressed together. "Don't worry, it's not mine. I just found it in the closet." Then he adopted a more serious look and he ducked his head a little to peer into Corey's eyes. "Are you okay? I know this has to be the hardest for you and your sister, and I don't want you to be hurting."

It was Corey's turn to laugh. "You're sweet, Peeta. It does hurt, though. I don't think it ever won't. I worry a lot, but it's kind of...cathartic, in a way- being so terrified for everyone else, but knowing that I won't come out the other end...it sounds morbid, but..."

"It's relieving," Peeta finished. "Knowing that you won't have to be afraid forever." Corey nodded, and Peeta pulled him back into his shoulder. They stood that way for a long time; long enough that some of the more loud music and lights from the city below had dissipated. "I don't want you to worry." Peeta said resolutely. "I want to help you."

"How?" Corey asked. "I don't think I want to make it out of the games, Peeta. I don't think you can help me."

The look on Peeta's face made Corey almost want to take his words back. He raised a hand like he wanted to cradle Corey's face, but stopped short. Then his expression hardened, and he lightly touched his fingertips to Corey's cheekbone, which coloured pink with blush a moment later.

"Then help me." Peeta said. "Help me and Katniss, and we'll help you and Cora. We can find a way, Corey," he said softly, begging. "But I need you, okay? I don't know why, but I need you. All I know is that we might die in those games and this might be our last chance to do something like this..."

Peeta was very close. So close that their noses were almost touching. So close that when Corey spoke, he could feel his breath hit Peeta's cheek. "Something like what?"

Both their voices were breathy and soft, and Peeta had his palm pressed gently against Corey's jaw, thumb stroking the skin under his eye. "Something for us," Peeta murmured, his blue eyes drilling into Corey's. "Something that isn't for our districts, or the Capitol, or the games. Something that we decide to do, because we want it."

Corey's eyes flicked down to Peeta's lips and then back up. "And what do you want, Peeta?"

Peeta leaned close enough that when he spoke, his own lips brushed against Corey's mouth, and Corey closed his eyes, pretty sure he was going to explode if Peeta didn't get over his dramatic self and kiss the hell out of him in the next two minutes.

"I want us to survive, Corey. I want us to get through this somehow, and I want us to keep going. I want us to live, I want us to be okay. I...want to kiss you right now."

"I want you to kiss me, too," Corey practically whimpered. He leaned forwards, searching for Peeta's lips, but whined when said lips moved away. "Peeta," Corey growled. "Fucking kiss me. I'm going to die, just let me have this."

Peeta, cheeks still flushed and eyes still full of stars, just grinned. "No," he stated. "Because I'm going to make you a deal. We're going to survive those games, and when we make it to the other side, then I'll kiss you. I'll kiss you so hard you'll forget everything that happened and then we'll move to district four together so you can introduce me to your siblings, and we'll open a bakery and everything will be okay."

Corey sighed and looked away. What Peeta offered was incredibly tempting, but they had only just met each other. These feelings were purely physical attraction while they were faced with the sudden and unavoidable event that was their death. This was just an adrenaline-driven last fling, one last opportunity to feel something other than terrified, and Corey knew there was no way that if, through some miracle, and against the rules of the games themselves, both he and Peeta could make it out alive, then their feelings wouldn't last. He had taken too long to reply, because Peeta grabbed his hands and held them close to his chest.

"Please, Corey. If you can't live for yourself, then live for me. Promise me that we can do this together. You, me, Katniss, Cora. We'll make an alliance." Peeta's voice still held that note of begging.

"How do you plan for us to both live? Only one victor, Peeta. That's the rule, that's the whole point of the games."

Peeta looked down at their hands. "I don't know," he admitted. "But we'll figure that out later. Just, promise me Corey. Promise that you'll try. For us, to give us a chance. Please."

Peeta made what Corey could only describe as puppy dog eyes, and he finally relented. "Okay. I promise. As long as there's a real chance, I'll keep trying."

The grin of pure relief and joy that split Peeta's cheeks made Corey's answer worth it. Peeta pulled him back into a hug, kissing Corey's cheek and burying his nose into the shorter boy's hair. "Thank you," he whispered over and over again. Corey couldn't help his own smile as he wrapped his arms around Peeta's broad back.

"You big fucking romantic dork." 

Peeta turning into a sopping romantic when faced with death and a pretty boy is all thats keeping me going right now istgoat 

Also sorry not sorry about them not kissing ehehehehe **evil hands** but just wait. it'll get better guys hang in there

i also want to say that my laptop wanted to autocorrect 'Katniss' to 'Satanist'. do with that what you will.