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KILL FOR YOUR LOVE.

act two.

(chapter sixteen, i'm fine, i promise)

victor's village, 75 ADD.

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STEAM INFECTED THE BATHROOM, its vapour moving around the area in mesmerising motions. It danced around the tiles, bouncing off the mirror, coating everything in a thick condensation. It caused the room to be stuffy, making Juniper take deep breaths as she tried to get some sort of oxygen into her lungs. But her sighs and groans were drowned out from the harsh sound of the water hitting vigorously onto her skin and the shower floor, being able to practically hear the boiling water hiss on her flesh, making it go raw and red. 

Juniper Hale currently stood with her head low, arm supporting her as her palm was outstretched on the tiled wall, eyes closed as she cherished the feeling of the water burning her alive. She felt the droplets roll down the skin of her back, felt the water caress harshly through her soaked hair, felt the steam taint her body. 

And there wasn't a single complaint as she stood there, not a single writhe from the pain, merely because Juniper Hale loved hot showers. It provided her with the fact that she could feel. That she was not the heartless monster she was said to be. The cuts in which the water seeped into proved this, also. 

They were tiny, but deep. Somehow, the porcelain bits from the smashed plates and cups managed to dig their way into the palm of Juniper's hands, some on her arms, and a good majority on the soles of her feet. It wasn't her fault, really. It was just sometimes, her emotions got the better of her. And she could still feel the effects now as she felt that rage course through her veins. She could feel herself shudder because of it, making her body go cold despite the boiling water that was still hitting upon her back. 

Besides the relentless noise that echoed around the bathroom of the spraying water and the woman's groans, Juniper could still hear her father bustling downstairs. She felt terribly guilty in leaving the poor man to clean up. She felt terribly guilty for him everyday. 

Orion Hale was perhaps the only person in the entirety of District Ten who did not question her antics. If she threw a fit and destroyed all the plates in the house, like she just did, the man would quietly clean the shards up and go buy new dishes. If she collapsed in a heap of tears for whatever reason, he would hold her tight until that pain in her heart numbed. If she ever slept with a knife close to her chest when her paranoia was high, Orion would silently slip into her bedroom and slide the blade away from her in the fear that she would accidentally slit her throat. And he was the only person who tried to throw away all the liquor and morphling that Juniper had stashed around the place. Orion Hale was the only one who truly cared, which was surprising ever since... ever since...

When Juniper's airways started to constrict, she suddenly turned the water off, stepping out quickly. The showers in the districts weren't as nearly fancy as the ones in the Capitol with their numerous buttons on panels and body-drying mats. Instead, Juniper was stuck with two knobs and a ratty towel, which she securely wrapped around herself. She hated feeling vulnerable, so naked, so open. She had enough of that in the Capitol, the feeling of helplessness with... customers. She didn't need that in her own home. 

But as Juniper stared at herself in the mirror, trying hard to not look at the deep violet patches that resided under her eyes, she had a sudden itching feeling, a sudden thumping sensation. She could still hear her father and the often clang of porcelain shards being tossed into the rubbish bin. She could faintly hear Brent Higgins wandering through the 'greenery' of Victors' Village. She could faintly hear screams. Blood-curdling screams. Groans. Sighs. 

(Juniper took a deep breath as Dallas screamed and cried. Blood was squirting everywhere as the boy rolled around, his amputated arm laying grey on the mud.)

(Juniper swung her weapon around before quickly impaling Rayon with it. His groans were hidden against the exploding sound of a cannon.)

(The girl heaved and huffed until finally, the cannon went off and her weak body finally went limp.)

(When Hermes collapsed to the floor, grunting as blood bubbled at his lips, a cannon echoed around the arena.)

(And Juniper should have screamed, poured apologises all over Ash's body, should have held him until he died, but she didn't.)

(It was only when Juniper reached over for the silver sword and slammed its blade into Cedar multiple times, even after the cannon fired, that it was justified.)

(When the blade was right up to his neck, Justice let out a sob as he reached up with his other hand, caressing Juniper's cheek.)

Juniper's fingers were turning white, her hands bracing herself on the sink. She felt a stinging pain in her heart as she began to pant for air. And whilst Juniper wished to close her eyes, she knew she couldn't. She would see them. It would make things much worse. 

But it was already worse. How can it become worse, more terrible than what it already was? She had killed Dallas. She had killed Rayon. She had killed Leona. She had killed Hermes. She had killed Wing. She had killed Ash. She had killed Cedar. She had killed Justice. 

Justice. 

Justice. 

Justice. 

She had killed her twin. 

"Isn't that the girl who killed her twin?" People in the Capitol would always whisper. 

"Juniper Hale, yeah!" The other person would scoff because how dare that person not know who the woman was?"She's the Victor of the Seventy-Second. The one that just snapped?"

"So, the twin-killer?"

The twin-killer. The one that just snapped. The Victor of the Seventy-Second Hunger Games. That was what Juniper Hale was known as. Not June, not the girl whose father worked at the Milking Station. A murderer. A cold-blooded, vicious murderer who had no remorse. Some even compared her and Johanna Mason together. 

At the thought of Johanna Mason, Juniper scoffed and quickly walked out of the bathroom, into her bedroom. The dislike for the Victor from Seven did not fade and nor did the dislike for the Victor from Ten disappear. In fact, hatred coursed through their veins and the two women would do anything to avoid each other, even if Finnick Odair tried to make them friends. For Juniper, Johanna was a too hard to swallow. She was too much like her and since Juniper hated herself, she therefore hated Johanna. 

(Turning a corner, Juniper suddenly bumped into someone harshly. Staggering back, still maintaining a grasp on her robe, she was about to scoff at the person, but when she focused her vision on who it was, Juniper blanched. Johanna Mason.)

Juniper shook her head and bit the inside of her gums as she got dressed in the clothes that were laid out on her bed. A sweater and long pants, the same materials she had been wearing for a week now. In fact, that was the first shower Juniper even had in a week. She barely went out of her house and if she did, the people of Ten would scatter before getting a whiff of her. That was one thing Orion Hale couldn't make her do. He could force her to eat and soothe her into sleeping, but he couldn't exactly cajole his twenty-year-old daughter into showering. Not even Lucy could.

Lucy. 

Oh, Lucy Stevens. The woman had changed and no-one knew why. The distant, faint person that was the Victor of the Sixty-First Hunger Games had disappeared. Lucy Stevens started to smile more. She started to crack jokes. She started to become the girl before her Games, not that anyone remembered how she won, but there was certainly a difference. She was more alive. 

But Brent Higgins. Juniper could still hear the man down in the 'greenery' of Victors' Village and thought of many gruesome images of how she could kill him. Brent Higgins had become more insufferable than ever. Most of his time was spent harassing the citizens of District Ten, flaunting his wealth and the expensive liquor he had shipped to him from the Capitol. Everyone hated him, even Lucy. Even Orion. And Juniper always had plans on how to kill him. She didn't care about him getting drunk day and night, the only thing she cared about was when he waved a big wad of dollars in-front of a starving family. That was what Juniper cared about. No Victor should be flaunting their victory in the others' faces, especially from the lower districts. 

The buzzing sound of the telephone made Juniper jump as she settled into her week-old clothes. The phone was downstairs near the door, but the damn thing was always so loud whenever someone called that anyone could hear it. But as Juniper tried to make her way to her bedroom door to trudge down the stairs, she faintly heard the echo of her father's footsteps and his soft voice as he answered the ringing. It wasn't long before she also heard her father muttering to someone, setting the receiver down, and walking up to the second floor. 

"June?" Orion Hale's soft, distant voice asked gingerly. He knew better to not prod her about anything during a fit of anger, but there was a sense of importance in his tone. "June, are you there?"

"Who was on the phone?" Juniper pushed open her bedroom door, coming face-to-face with the exhausted face of her father. He had bigger bags under his eyes than she did and there was a concerned look painted on his face. But at the appearance of Juniper, who shimmied in the oversize sweater, he let out a discrete sigh. 

"That Finnick boy," he said, gesturing downstairs. "He's just checking up... he wants to talk to you."

"... okay..." Juniper ran a hand down her face lightly as she bit her lip. Of course it was Finnick. He called nearly every day. And as Juniper went to move past her father to go downstairs, she caught a glimpse of the small cuts on his hand. "Pa... I'm sorry. I'll clean up next time. I didn't mean to—"

"June," he interrupted her as he carefully put those cut-up hands on her cheek, cradling her face. "Don't apologise... it's okay..."

"But your hands—"

"Go talk to your friend."

Juniper nodded slightly as she swallowed down whatever complaints she had. There was a heavy guilt feeling in her heart as she slowly made her way down the stairs, leaving her father. The cuts on his hands made it difficult to breathe, even more so as she made it to the entrance hall where the door was, the telephone receiver laying on the side-table. Juniper could hear the crackle of the faint breaths Finnick Odair took. 

Picking it up gently and holding the phone to her ear, Juniper asked, "Finn? Time for your daily check up?"

"You're funny, June." Juniper smiled faintly at the distant sound of Finnick Odair. "I'm just checking up on a friend."

Ever since Juniper... ever since Juniper came back, Finnick Odair had become a close friend, an ally. The pair had formed a sort of sick, twisted bond ever since Juniper was eighteen, ever since that visit with Snow, the visit where he threatened to burn everything Juniper loved, which wasn't much these days, unless she did what he asked. Finnick knew exactly what Juniper felt, what she was made to do. And it helped that he too was in the same situation. Finnick Odair was also the only person, besides Orion Hale, who knew how to handle her intense fits of emotions. He learned it the hard way after a session with a customer went terribly wrong, ending up with Juniper destroying every single thing in the apartment in the Capitol. But after that night, Finnick vowed to always check up on Juniper, reminding her frequently that she was not alone. 

"Well, your friend appreciates the call." Juniper hummed as she leaned against the wall. She ignored the thudding sensation in the cuts that littered her hands, arms, and feet. "How's the beach in Four?"

"As beautiful as ever," Finnick told her. Juniper could faintly hear the roaring of the waves in the background. "You should come visit sometime soon. I miss you."

"Yeah, I miss you too." Juniper sighed. "Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that question."

"What do you mean?"

"Lucy called me a little while ago. I didn't get a chance to answer, but she left a voice message," Finnick explained as Juniper held her breath. "She said you didn't take the news of the upcoming wedding... lightly."

At the mention of the wedding, Juniper immediately tightened her grip on the receiver. The wedding. The stupid wedding between Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. Two Victors'. Last Games Victors'. There were two Victors. There were two Victors' for the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. And it made Juniper boil with rage because how? How could there possibly be two Victors'? It was printed into the district's brains that only one wins, that twenty-three die and one remains. The sole Victor. But no. No, Seneca Crane had to add some flourish to his third year as Head Gamemaker, he just had to allow Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark win because of their pathetic love story which was so fake and tacky that Juniper had the urge to go down to District Twelve to kill the two.

District Twelve. 

The pair came from District Twelve. How could they both possibly win? How could Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark escape, taunting everyone with the news of their upcoming wedding whilst Justice Hale rotted dead in the cemetery of District Ten, whilst Juniper Hale smashed plates and glasses nearly every week, slept with blades under her pillow and near her chest, who sobbed because her eyes looked too much likes Justice's? How? How could they survive? How could Snow let this happen?

"June? You still there?"

"What?" Juniper snapped out of her daydreams, realising how hard she was grasping the telephone. "Yeah, I'm still here."

"So, are you okay?" Finnick asked once more. "I know it's difficult—"

"Difficult?" Juniper chuckled. "Yeah, you know how hard it is to not go over to Twelve and kill those two bastards myself?"

"June—"

"I don't care about their stupid wedding or what Haymitch says—"

"June..." Finnick interrupted once more. "June... slow down—"

"Slow down?" Juniper snapped. She could feel that anger build up again, but she saw movement near the steps and she felt that strong emotion go hiding in a box in her heart when she saw the faded figure of her father. She took a breath and closed her eyes. "Right... slow down..."

The receiver crackled with Finnick's deep sighs, a silence enveloping them before the man from Four said gently, "There's a mandatory viewing in about two days... "

"What about?" Juniper asked. She knew what. It was about time Snow announced it. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark's Victory Tour was over, which was strategically laid out to keep the Capitol people interested, and it was about time they announced this year's Reaping. 

"Eh, some say it's a photoshoot for Everdeen," Finnick said. "Others are saying it's for the Quarter Quell... reading of the cards... they'll probably send out the list for mentors soon as well."

Juniper massaged the bridge of her nose as she told him, "Well, it ain't gonna be me. I went last year. It'll be Lucy and Brent."

"Brent goes every year."

"Perks of being the only male Victor in Ten."

"It'll probably be me this year again," Finnick told her. "I'd be surprised if it wasn't. With everything that happened with the whole berry situation last year, the Capitol will need a distraction."

"Berries." Juniper scoffed. "I'm surprised anyone fell for that suicide act. It makes me sick. Thank those above it won't be me this year, I don't think I'll be able to stand those two flirting and kissing each other every five seconds."

"The Peeta bloke seems decent." Juniper could hear the rustle of Finnick's clothing as he shrugged. "I mean — he did most of the talking during the Tour. Everdeen just... stood there—"

"And got people killed."

"Yeah, well, things are different, aye? You see, I never got anyone killed during my Tour." Finnick chortled slightly. There was a woman's voice echoing around in the background, faint and distant, but Juniper smiled as Finnick became distracted. "Yeah, I'm talking to June... yeah, she's all right... I'll tell her... yeah, I'll tell her... I love you... Annie says hi."

Juniper smiled slightly at the mention of the brown-haired girl. Annie Cresta won the Seventieth Hunger Games, two-years before Juniper and they had met on multiple occasions, the woman from Ten having a sense of... adoration for her. "How is Annie? You treating her right, Odair? Because if you're not, I have a killer punch."

"Oh, no, I'm terrified," Finnick said nonchalantly, Juniper practically feeling him roll his eyes. "She's... all right... today is a better day. You know, she went down to the docks with Mags, helped out with the fishermen."

"I thought she didn't like the docks... or any water in fact?" Juniper asked. She knew Annie's history with water and remembered watching her Games when she was fifteen and always felt terrible for her. The only reason she survived was because she was the best swimmer when the arena was flooded. Ever since, Annie had a fear of water. 

"She doesn't... but being with Mags calmed her down," Finnick told her. Mags was Finnick's mentor from his own Games and Juniper had met her before as well, but the woman had suffered from a terrible stroke and could only mumble one-worded phrases when she put her mind to it. 

Finnick carried on with telling Juniper about Four and updates about Annie and his own life, but as he did, the woman felt something pierce the flesh of her foot when she moved it. Gasping slightly, Juniper bent down to find a piece of porcelain embedded in her foot, adding to the amount of cuts she had on her soles. And as she picked up the porcelain bit, surveying it, she began to shiver. It was from one of the plates she had smashed. The plates she had unknowingly cut her father with. The plates that she smashed in a fit of anger. 

(And as Juniper went to move past her father to go downstairs, she caught a glimpse of the small cuts on his hand.)

"June?" Finnick's voice echoed around in her ear. "June, I asked you something." 

"Hm," she hummed as she gently flipped the piece of porcelain around in her fingers. "What is it?"

"I asked, are you sure you're okay?"

Juniper froze. It was such a simple question and one Finnick asked every single day for two-years. Are you sure you're okay? No. No, Juniper Hale was not okay. She was alive when she shouldn't be. Justice was dead when he shouldn't be. And she had just hurt her father in a fit of anger. So no, no she was not all right.

"I'm fine, I promise."