I didn't show any grief to Nero. I would never be that dumb. Over the years I've learnt to bottle up how I feel inside, because showing any signs of true, raw emotion is the quickest way to open yourself up to betrayal. After we managed to kill Destiny and Marius, Nero and I made our way north, backing up our tracks in hopes of running into other tributes.
I didn't ask him how he killed Destiny. I know he killed her, because when it finally registered in my mind that I had killed Marius, it also registered that Destiny's body was lying limp, her arm dangling off the edge of the cliff. I just nodded, but didn't say anything. I knew if I asked him about what he did, he would ask me about what I did. And I was doing my best to block out the fact that I killed the only person who had ever wanted to help me.
So we just got up, brushed off our clothes, and started walking again. We are stopped now on top of a small hill between the forest and the ruins. We need to rest, before we completely wear ourselves out. Nero is asleep, but don't think he is properly sleeping--especially because he knows I'm awake. I rarely sleep, anyways.
Earlier this evening, Nero asked me a question. "Don't you ever feel bad?" I asked him what he meant by that, and he just said "You know, about killing people." I just shrugged. Honestly, I don't feel bad. I feel great. I've never truly felt any guilt for killing someone. It's the natural order of life. Kill or be killed. But Nero, he feels differently. I realize now why the son-of-a-b*tch is so angry all the time. He wants to feel bad for what he does, but he doesn't. He tries to fight the monstrous tendencies of his nature, but he never succeeds. So I just shrugged, and whispered softly to him "I don't think it truly matters if I feel bad, I kill anyways."
Then, Nero did a strange thing. With the Destiny's blood still plastered on his face and painted on his hands, he leaned forward and grabbed my face, bringing it closer to his. He kissed me, softly. It felt sweet at first, innocent and pure. But then, when I registered what was going on, it began to morph into a twisted, painful experience. All I could see was Marius, and Illiana, and my father, and my sister, and everyone else I had hurt in some way. How could I sit here, in an arena of death, and let the boy with the train-wreck mind kiss me? I opened my eyes, and shoved him away.
"What the hell, man?"
"I.... I, um, I don't know. I'm sorry."
I turned around to grab my dagger.
"Hey hey hey, slow down there Evi. Calm down. Sorry. Won't happen again."
I hesitated, my fingers lacing around the hint of the dagger with skepticism. I couldn't afford to have a stupid boy try to kiss me and make me feel guilt about myself. I wasn't a prude, I'd had my fair share of experiences, in that sense. But I didn't need it here, or now, or ever again. I didn't need to be confused and diverted from my destiny - to win the games again. To be the champion of champions, and to go back to the same empty house with the same empty people with the same empty eyes that faintly flickered with pity and disgust. It wasn't a perfect life, but it was my life. And kissing Nero would do nothing to help me.
I let go of the knife, and glared back at him. "Don't try it again, dumba**." He laughed, so I just huffed and turned away from him. I need to find a new ally, because I can't have an idiot watching my back.