The sun was set. The sky blazed a bloody, drying crimson. Katniss sat on the front porch of her and Peeta's home. Her arms hugged her knees to her chest. She stared passed the sky into the crimson heart of her memories. Blood felt sticky against her arms, her hands. She didn't know whether it was from clutching Peeta to her, desperate for him to be alive or from Rue or the Quarter Quell or the attack on the Capitol. Did it even matter?
"… niss…" a voice called. "… Katniss... Katniss? Can you hear me?"
Slowly blinking, she stirred lightly beneath the gentle hand lingering uncertainly above her shoulder. Her gaze turned to him questioningly.
He sighed in relief, settling down by her side.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"… Just thinking," she murmured.
Her voice sounded hoarse. She cleared her throat, wondering how long she had been staring into nothing. It couldn't have been long. Sunsets didn't last long.
"I'm here," he told her.
She nodded sombrely, leaning into his side. A contented sigh spilled from her lips as he wound an arm around her waist. Resting her head against his shoulder they watched the darkening sky and the unveiling of the stars.