Back in the Cornucopia tent, Stark was sitting on the blanket in the light of an oil lamp, redressing his wounds. Now the burns looked like greyish-pink crumpled pieces of paper sewn onto his skin. Prodding at it with his fingernail, the withered skin broke to reveal pink flesh underneath subsequent to oozing out transparent liquid.<br/><br/>"Don't pick at it," said Coren when she entered. "It'll make it worse." Stark scoffed and said, "How can it get any worse?"  She raised her eyebrow and replied, "It can get infected. That layer of skin is what little protection your wound has." Stark huffed and muttered, "Don't tell me what to do." She gave him a wry smile and replied, "I'm just trying to help." Stark looked at her with a sharp glare and retorted, "I don't need any help." Coren's face turned vacant and she sat beside him. Taking the gauze roll he was using to wrap his arm, she tightened it and ripped the strip. As she rummaged the first-aid kit, she said, "You're not the only one, you know. You're not enduring this alone. We're all here..." She stuck a safety pin in the dressing. "... trying to survive; trying to hold onto the sliver of chance we have of winning." She took the patch off the side of her eye. "You're not on your own; you don't have to-"<br/><br/>"How can you hope," interrupted Stark with downcast eyes, "that you'll survive?" Coren looked up at him and smiled, asking, "Well, what's the point of living if you're convinced that you'll die? Don't you have hope?" His navy eyes, now darkened to a midnight sky, moved over to Coren's green ones.<br/><br/>"No," he murmured and she furrowed her brows. The corners of his lips lifted as he continued, "I don't have hope; I have certainty. I<span style="font-style: italic">know</span>I will win, because I can't imagine any other outcome." Coren stared at him with a stoic face, but had eyes wide with interest. "The idea of my death seems impossible when I'm amongst such amateurs." As Stark spoke, his hands floated up and moved to Coren's face; his fingers hugged her cheeks as his grin widened. "I've been training my whole life for this. My<span style="font-style: italic">becoming</span>." Coren was motionless yet showed no trace of fear. His hands stroked her face as he lowered them to her neck and suddenly clutched it. She uttered a little yelp from the force against her throat and grasped his arms, but did not resist him.<br/><br/>Slowly, Stark crawled over her as he pushed her to the ground. It was so painstaking, as if he was setting a thin glass vase down upon the point of a needle. He closed his face in upon hers, so close that she could feel his breath as he murmured, "I'm not asking how you can hope for your survival because there is a 'sliver of chance.' No, what I'm wondering..." He tightened the grip of his fingers, "... is how you can possibly..." Coren's breath shuddered from the strain, "... imagine yourself winning..." He smiled, "... when<span style="font-style: italic">I'm</span>here; when I have my hands around your throat..." His hold tightened to a strangling force and Coren's eyes bulged as she struggled for air, "... when I can<span style="font-style: italic">kill</span>you... right here....<span style="font-style: italic">right now</span>!"<br/><br/>Stark stared at Coren's purpling face as he choked her; the oil lamp's flame blazing in his eyes. The way the red veins in her eyes stretched to her iris and how the welling tears glimmered in the light mesmerized him. She had never looked so beautiful. All Coren did was dig her fingernails into Stark's wrists and fight for any breaths she could muster, doing nothing to save herself from being esphyxiated. When Stark noticed this, he released his iron grip and she inhaled a wheezing breath as if she was still struggling for it. She coughed and gasped for nearly a minute before catching her breath. Stark glared at her as she did this, thinking only the next thing he was to say.<br/><br/>"Why didn't you fight me?" he asked with a sharp edge with his fists against the ground on either side of her head. Coren stared at him with red eyes. A tear in her right eye escaped at the edge and traveled through the crests of her burn before rolling down her cheek. "I thought you were better than that. Are you so weak that you would<span style="font-style: italic">let</span>me kill you?" After clearing her throat, Coren said hoarsely, "To answer your first question, I do have a little hope that I might live, but just because that's my own instinct." She looked to the side. "I'm sure that I'll die, but I can still live for something more promising than my own survival." She looked up at him and smiled as she said, "Yours." Stark furrowed his brow and blinked. "As for your second question," continued Coren, "if I have to die, I would want it to be by your hands. It would be an honor."<br/><br/>Stark blinked at Coren with a slightly open mouth, not quite understanding her reasoning.<span style="font-style: italic">How can she be so dedicated to me?</span>he thought. He was still flattered, but also confused. "Why?" he asked, barely moving his lips. Wrapping her arms around his back, Coren smiled again and said, "Because I love you." Stark's eyes widened as his brows came together.<span style="font-style: italic">I love you?</span>The only other person who ever said that to him was his mother.<span style="font-style: italic">Love me?</span>His father hit her every time he heard her say that to him.<span style="font-style: italic">Love me?</span>His father said that they would only say that to him once he won the Hunger Games.<span style="font-style: italic">Love me?</span>Then he would have to earn their love.<br/><br/>But not Coren's? He didn't understand.<br/><br/>She sighed at Stark's silence, but still had her smile. Sliding her hand over the back of his neck, she raised her head to meet his and kissed him. He didn't respond to her for a moment, but then shoved her back into the ground. Glaring at her, he spat, "You're lying! You're trying to make me trust you. I'm not stupid, Coren!" He grabbed her face and pressed his thumb against the burn near her right eye. She flinched and cried out when the skin broke, seeping blood. She opened her left eye and stared at Stark, still maintaining her smile.<br/><br/>"Stark," she whispered, "it's okay. You don't have to believe me. You don't even have to love me back. Just... let me..." Coren took his hand from her scar and lowered it her her jaw, then pulled him in and kissed him again. Stark's breath shuddered through her lips. He didn't know what to do. He never imagined himself in this place. The times he pictured of himself with a woman he always thought he'd be the dominating one. No matter, he was still finding himself aroused by the way Coren was touching him; wrapping her legs around his hips, stroking his back, sliding her tongue into his mouth. He wasn't sure what to do, though.<br/><br/>So he just decided to mimick how his father would make love to his mother.<br/><br/>Stark raised his head back for a moment and then smashed his mouth upon Coren's. As he violently kissed her, he grabbed her wrists and raised them above her head and slammed them against the floor. Holding down both her wrists with one hand, he used the other to slide under her shirt and touch her bare skin. Coren released a little moan, her chest heaving from Stark's suffocating kisses. As he pulled down her pants, he noticed that this wasn't happening exactly how he was picturing it. Coren wasn't struggling or crying that they shouldn't let their son see this.<br/><br/>"Watch closely, son," whispered Stark as he kissed Coren. "This is how a man fucks."