Fallen from Grace (Hunger Games)

68th Hunger Games


46. What Happened Last Night!?

    Everything felt so loud. Emily didn't even know she could actually FEEL a volume. The sun felt obnoxiously loud when it shined in her eyes, her body ached, and even running water was too loud. The redhead groaned when some noises or lights were too harsh on her and hurt her head as she got ready to go out for breakfast. Emily dragged her feet with her eyes squinted while she made way to the table, lifted the chair so it didn't squeal against the ground, and took her seat. Phox noticed her broken appearance and furrowed his brows at her as she filled her dish with scrambled eggs and toast, requesting for water and ice to the Avox.

    She could feel his eyes on her and blinked slowly down at her food with her fork in hand and her hand through her hair and elbow propped onto the table. "SO HOW WAS MENTORING!?" Phox asked loudly, enough that it made the tributes jump and Emily groaned loudly, sinking her fingers through her hair more.

    "Shut up, Phox," she mumbled bitterly and stabbed a piece of egg. "It was okay, to answer your question—"

    "WHAT WAS THAT!? I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE FACT YOU'RE HUNGOVER!" he exclaimed, making Emily groan again and pressed her forehead to the table. God, she felt so sick. Food didn't even sound appetizing to her.

    “Hey, Phox,” he greeted first, patting the man’s shoulder as he approached before taking the first vacant seat. “How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

   Then the sound of a door slid from the hallway, Emily lifted her head and looked around the table to see who was missing. “Hey, Phox,” Gryffon greeted, his voice making Emily jump in her spot when he pat Phox’s shoulder before taking a vacant seat. “How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in a while.” The redhead merely stared at him, her eyes never leaving him. What the—how did—when did he? Emily looked toward Phox, whose glare was hard on the redhead and made her look away. Oh my god what happened last night!?

    “Sauntor . . .” Phox addressed when he pried his eyes from the pale redhead and looked toward the Eleven victor. “What are you doing here?”

   “I actually have no idea, believe it or not?” Gryffon chuckled, motioning toward the redhead. “Ask her. Came here to escort her. She invited the rest.”

   Emily's head shot toward Gryffon's direction with shocked wide eyes. Oh my god, she did what!? She looked to Phox, who looked royally pissed and slowly turning pink. "I don't . . ." she choked out words, but she had difficulty telling the rest. She didn't remember! Her memory became blurry after spilling her drink on Wren. After that she went dark. And she couldn't really say she didn't remember or saw him in her room, Phox already knew and she couldn't clumsily lie her way out. And it wasn't like as could sugar coat the topic around the teen tributes. "I—"

    "Just save it, Aldair," Phox snapped and turned his attention back to Gryffon. "So you had your fun with her like she's a cheap two dollar whore. Why are you still here, Sauntor?" he hissed.

    God, she wished she was dead.

    And the tributes just watched the victors, looking from one to the other with each word that came out of their mouths like it was tennis.

    At Phox’s comment, Gryffon raised a brow at the man and shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere better to go, assclown,” he replied simply, chuckling. “Figured I could have some after party fun watching you both flip your shit.”

   "Well, you're not on the list for the after party," Phox answered and took a sip of his early morning alcohol. "Besides, I bet Annabelle will be great company."

    “A party you didn’t even know you hosted, so as if the ‘list’ matters,” Gryffon said under his breath with a roll of his eyes. Gryffon glanced over at Emily and smirked, “At least now you won’t need to get offended when Wren calls you a nun.”

   Emily blushed pink and pressed her palm to her mouth that still propped her from the table. Oh god they did . . . They did they did they did, and she felt thoroughly embarrassed. And he just went out and said it! Didn't matter if it was subtle, it was still an answer to what happened.

    Phox dropped his fork in response to the last thing Gryffon said and let out an exasperated sigh. "Get out. Go be a whore somewhere else, Sauntor!" he growled. It was too early to deal with any of them.

    He shook his head and allowed his eyes to drift over the silent tributes to the even more mortified Emily. Gryffon’s smirk only grew and he let out an amused scoff as he cocked a brow somewhat. “Oh! Em,” he started, shrugging away Phox’s orders as if they had never even been said, “It also answered my question as to what sort of drunk you are. You just need some practice.”

   "THAT'S IT! Out!" Phox snarled and pushed himself out of his chair toward Gryffon.

    "Not hungry anymore," Emily said during the ruckus as Phox took Gryffon by the collar while Emily pushed away to run toward the elevator before the man could be thrown in there with her.

    “What’s with all the defending her now, Eight? Last time I checked, you hated her guts as much as you do mine,” Gryffon chuckled as Phox sprung up and reached for his collar. Emily pressed the button over and over again, hoping that maybe it would come faster even though Emily was aware that it didn’t carry such a quality. When the door opened, Gryffon shoved Phox off of him. “No touchy. Didn’t take you for a fag, so just get the fuck off,” he growled, still with the entertained smirk on, but his tone was already much more threatening. “I can walk.”

   And with rather long strides, and Emily pressing the close button for the damn door to seal shut, Gryffon managed to stick his shoulders right between the doors just before they closed completely and that forced its system to open again to give him access into the small room. Emily scoot to the side to make room for the man, wrapped her arms around herself and avoided his eyes. “Mind if we detour up a couple of floors?” he asked the redhead casually as he tapped the ‘11’ button, never taking his eyes off of her.

    But she didn’t answer him.

    Emily closed her eyes and took in deep breaths, thinking of ways that would lead to the man being up on her floor without it resulting in sex. But that would be dumb. He was still on District Eight's floor in the morning. He wouldn't have a reason to be there unless it was her. All the times Gryffon Sauntor was ever on District Eight's floor was because he went to see Emily. The only other reason why he would still be around in the morning was BECAUSE of drunk sex.

    God, she felt like an idiot . . .

    Gryffon just stared at her as they reached the first floor above them. The atmosphere in the elevator felt heavy and annoyed. Her silence getting on the man’s nerves the more time silence took it. It was like she reverted back to that first day they met, except the actions of that day had carried through the night before.

    “It literally doesn’t mean anything,” Gryffon stated blankly, rolling his eyes as they passed the tenth floor mark. “You’re uncomfortable so it’s funny, but it meant shit to the both of us.” The elevator dinged to announce their arrival on his floor, but just as the doors opened, he smirked. “Finally not a virgin anymore, though. So good for you.”

   Emily's eyes fluttered in fast blinks, just lowering her head to stare at her feet. She couldn't say a word, didn't even know what to say. Yeah, woo! Not a virgin anymore, technically. But it was a one night stand that meant nothing. And that went against her morals. And she didn't even REMEMBER IT, no less. "I don't think that's something to be ecstatic about . . ." Emily mumbled.

    Gryffon shifted a bit, but not right out the door, no; a step or two closer to her. “Then don’t be,” he shrugged. He tilted her head up to look at him, his eyes hard on hers, though something smug shone through them; much like the cocky appearance of his smirk half the time. And Emily stared back with no spark in her eyes, like the green had dulled in color and she looked at him with a blank expression. “Not really my problem.” He moved his hand to roughly, teasingly, almost mockingly ruffle her hair like the bitch he was apparently making her out to be as he turned away from her, casually slipping his fingers into his pockets as he exited the elevator. “See ya’ later, Em.”

   The doors closed between them and Emily just stood there. There was a heaviness in her chest and her eyes felt like it was about to well up with tears. She didn’t remember anything. The redhead wasn’t even sure how exactly she had managed to get into bed with him. From what the man said, SHE was the one that invited him. SHE was the one that made it happen. He just so happened to be there and went along with her deluded mind filled with alcoholic fog.

    Emily let out an exasperated sigh and clicked the Training Center. Enough of that train wreck of a morning, time to do her job . . .

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