So... a little Gale-niss? :D I think yes. Please r&r and a Field of Cloves might be updated SOON. We're having technical difficulties.

It's been one month.
One month away from the games.
One month since Peeta died.
Tears laced my lashes, biting against my cheeks as my legs indifferently fell into an easy stride towards town.
Not like I want to go there.
I try to focus my mind on why I came here, my game bag itself tapping through my cotton-rid calf, as if trying to remind me why I'm torturing myself like this. My hands fumble with the bottom of my worn shirt, finally having something to grip onto. It's not uncommon for me to lose myself like this, but at least I could usually keep it together until I stepped onto the mossy forest floor. I shut my eyes, pressed my palm up to the barkery door, almost waiting for a pulse to start thumping from the hearty wood. I can't stay here, I have to get it over with. With a now clenched fist I pushed the door open, shuddering when the slicing sound of jiggling bells met my ears.
"Hey Katniss" A bound voice slid around the warm walls.
I looked up, wrapping my dad's leather jacket around myself and took a grasp on the game bag.
"Hey" I offer one solemn nod as the father of the boy who I killed moved slowly to the counter infront of me.
"Anything I could do for you today?" I forced myself to look into his eyes, trying not to wince as the familiar grooves of a face started to painfully reappear in my mind.
" I uh.." My voice faltered.
Same blond hair.
Same blue eyes.
Same jaw line.
Tears threatened to sting my eyes as I clumsily opened my game bag and tossed two squirrels on the cleaned counter.
"I understand... what two loaves would you want?" His voice hid no trace of betrayal or anger, just a thick vibe of sadness being threaded through with hurt.
I cleared my throat.
"Those two" Control started to fade out as my shaky hand pointed to the end two in the corner of the light shelf. He grabbed the two plump loaves, handling them quickly since they were fresh ut of the oven, and dropped them next to the squirrels.
I looked at him, a frown twitching on the the corners of my mouth.
How could I look into the eyes of a man who's son I killed?
As if he read my thoughts Mr. Mellark released a sigh, and crossed his arms to steady himself.
"You need to stop blaming myself for my son's death Katniss, it wasn't your fault." The man looked up at me with a sheen of tears threatening to make an appearance.
"But it WAS my fault, I could have saved him, I could have died for him." I clutched the two loaves tightly, trying to let the heat bring me back to life.
He sighed again trying to stop the pain from stinging his own heart.
"No, it's not. I may be old but my eyes don't deceive me. And besides, he rather be dead then you be dead."

Words seemingly escape my mind, my mouth winded with the panting of nightmares soon to come. "No, you don't understand it's just that-" A single tear slid down my cheek, cutting through the hard earned dirt that I packed on this morning.
"I don't need to, and take these" He dropped two round cookies on the counter, holding back suppressed tears.
I would argue, but who knows into what kind of emotional breakdown I would have endorsed myself into. So instead I offer a rash nod, placing both of them into my now empty game bag, offering a simple wave as a good-bye.
I want to cry.
Salt filled my numb mouth as I trekked back home, not bothering to apologize as I bumped through throngs of chattering people. I reach my metal door, whipping the passcode into the pad as I shudder with each warm breeze.
"Catnip?" I turn around.
Only one person calls me that.
"Gale" I manage to choke out of my sobs as he guides me into his warm arms. "Oh Gale" I murmur into his chest, not caring who'll see us as he pushes the door open, still not letting me go.
"Shh... shh..."He whispered as I started to shed through countless tears, soaking his shirt.
I felt myself being moved from the kitchen, through the smell of paint and sterile metal, and finally dropped on the couch. Of course as gentle as Gale can be after a hard day of work.
He was used to this by now, he was used to the broken emotional shell of myself.
"Gale.." I whispered as I finally pried to open my eyes, trying to seek his for comfort. But I found nothing.
I squeezed the last set of tears from my emotional brake down, my mind fell into the same routine of forgetting.
"Gale?" I asked a little more steadily as I stood up from the rather new couch, feeling the scratched curls of the luxury known as carpet beneath my feet. I scratched my head, pulling tendrils of my hair from it's now loos braid. What was Gale doing home this early on a Wednesday? He should be buried in the mines right now, working with sweat beading his forehead and whisking back a pick-ax while the constant pounding of iron against coal should be filling his ears with the muted screams of men.

I hallucinated.
Again.
But I know at least what I need. I pull a thick woolen blanket around me, the musky scent of hides reminding me of the woods, of him. A thin smile slips onto my lips as tired-ness rocks my body, my pulse reaching my ears and endorsing me into my own thoughts.
My heart thumps twice to tell me I miss him. But how much? I don't know. I all can do is drum my fingers against the leather of the couch, my mind drowning in thoughts of pain sorrow and a thrumming love. I can't think about this now. I can't get over feelings though. I guess that'll have to wait till Sunday.


So... is it good? Please send criticism, it'll only help me get better. I'll be looking for an editor so PLEASE pm me if you want to be it :D -SheWhoSpinsIce