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When you wake up, you are in your bed.
You're thankful for that. There have been too many instances within your lifetime that you've woken up to an unfamiliar resting place; so much so that even after over eight years of waking up in this room, you still expect to wake up somewhere else. Despite this, you've become familiar with the weight of the comforter on your body every morning, so when you notice a heavier feeling on your chest, you can't help but get worried.
To your left, the artificial sunlight of the victor's tower pours through the window, and you blink your eyes, trying to get them back in focus. Your eyes drift across the maroon walls plastered neatly with fanart drawn by your unfortunately adoring fans; past the desk overflowing with papers, from sponsorship letters to printed-out recipes; over the piles of clothes haphazardly strung across the ground and left to wrinkle; before they finally land on the door to your right. It's open, and in the doorframe stands a tall figure, pale and almost menacing to the unfamiliar eye.
You smile genuinely, an action that any person outside of the Tower would deem impossible for you. "Hey, Bee." As they smile back and begin to walk towards your bed, you notice the lack of tidiness about them- their hair's uncombed and their movements are sluggish, like they just woke up. When they squat down, putting the two of you face to face, you see that their face is puffy, confirming your suspicions.
"Lesia's streaming with Tony," they inform you. "I told her not to be too loud, but you know how she can be sometimes." When they say that, you feel your mouth instinctively morphing into your signature smirk. You do know how she can be. It amazes you that even after all these years, her streams are still as energetic as ever. As if she'd sensed the two of you speaking about her, you hear a muffled bout of laughter followed by the thumping of footsteps above you, on Floor 6.
"For fuck's sake, I'm the queen of Hell," you drawl, sarcasm practically dripping from your fangs. "No need to be worried about my sleep schedule, darling." Bee chuckles as they lay their cheek on the pillow beside you.
"Oh, I'm not, dear, I promise." They raise a brow, their pale, milky eyes widening a bit. "But EF was worried about your little guest."
At that, you finally look down at your chest. There's a lump under your black comforter, and you pull it back to find short white hair, mussed by the comfort of sleep. "Oh, shit," you mumble. "When did ae get here?"
Bee shrugs. "EF mentioned that ae came looking for you late last night, but you were already passed out, so..." Their voice trails off as they gesture to your mentee, snuggled underneath the blankets and resting peacefully on top of your chest. It's the first time you've seen aem at rest like this, and now that your mind has cleared itself of sleep, you strongly suspect it's going to be your last.
"They're doing mods for aem today," you state stone-faced. Bee leans forward, their expression suddenly laced with pity.
"Are they really?" They reach up to touch their own porcelain face, and you think about the extra eyes on your right cheek that you've grown so used to, the weight of the horns at the edge of your hairline, the fangs in your mouth that gleam menacingly when you snarl. "Is that why, then?"
You don't say anything. Instead, you pull back the comforter a little bit more and run your fingers through Tiger's hair, rubbing at her scalp. There are a couple places where hair is shorter and the skin is raw, probably caused by some of the injuries she sustained during her Games. "Where's Creed?" you ask, not looking away from Tiger. You don't have to look up to know that Bee's expression has turned into a grimace.
"When EF told me about Tiger, I asked the others to make sure he didn't try to come in this morning." You nod. Good. You're not letting your so-called husband disturb Tiger's rest, not when ae needs it.
You put your left hand on Tiger's back and reach towards Bee with the other, gesturing for them to come closer. They oblige, embracing you with one arm and kissing you on the forehead. "Thank you," you mumble into their shoulder, and damn it, you want to show your friend how grateful you truly are to them, for everything they've ever done for you. Sometimes you think Bee might know you better than you know yourself, and you're ever so thankful for a person like that in your life- but you never have been good at relaying emotions directly, even before you became a Victor and your branding demanded it, so you settle for all that you can give right now.
Bee smiles at you and stands up to leave. You watch their back as they step through the doorway, but they turn around at the last second. "I'm here for you if you need anything," they remind you, and you nod, smiling at them.
Once they're gone, you look back down at Tiger. She's drooled a bit on your shirt, which you wrinkle your nose in disgust at, but her hand is gripping your sheets tightly and her face is nuzzled into your stomach. You want to laugh at the sight, but you also don't want to wake her up.
You tell yourself not to focus on the schedule for today, because you know your thoughts will begin to drift and you'll just get more anxious than you already are- but you know what the Gamemakers have in store for Tiger already.
The idea that you will never see her at peace like this again- that she will live in a world that never sleeps and never be able to have a moment of tranquility that even the Capitol cannot take from her- that frightens you. Even you have that freedom, and to the Capitol, you are nothing but a demon, a nuisance to their plans. How can someone so young, so small, have that one freedom taken away so easily, without any remorse?
Distantly, you hear Lesia's footsteps again. You let your conflicted mind drift to her, wondering what she might be doing up there that could possibly involve so much running. Is Sparrow with her? What about Maya? You sigh and look back down at Tiger, running your hand through aer hair again, picking at the occasional knot you find tangled throughout.
When you finally close your eyes and fall into a dreamless sleep, you end up with your arms around Tiger; a demonic protector, as your fanbase might call you. You hope that when you wake up, she will still be with you, in your arms. You hope that when you wake up, her eyes will flutter open and you will greet her with a smile before she has to begin her inevitable transformation. You hope that when you wake up, you can be there for her.
When you wake up, Tiger has disappeared, and in aer absence, you are left with a strong sense of dread.