This is my first songfic. I'm not really sure how those work, I'm just kinda winging it here. And I'm so sorry that it takes a while on my other stories. I just don't know where to take it from where I left off. Can ya'll help?
The reason I wrote this is because last night at around half past midnight, I was listening to my iPod on shuffle and 'What Hurts the Most' came on first. This is one of my favorite songs ever and I saw this video about Everlark on Youtube with this song. So naturally I thought of that beautiful video (that I can't find no matter how hard I look!) During the song I thought of Katniss and how she could have felt this way. I got out my writing notebook and scribbled down this story you're about to read. The next song on shuffle was 'Over' and I got another idea for one of these. (I didn't get to write it because I was super-tired but now that I have the idea, I'm working on it! :D Well enough of my rambling!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games or the song 'What Hurts The Most' all credit goes to the people who made those beautiful creations.
I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house.
That don't bother me.
I wander through my home in the Victor's Village, thinking of Gale and how he is somewhere in District 2, and thinking even more of Peeta, hijacked and wanting to kill me.
A tear runs down my cheek. This is how all of the breakdowns start.
I can take a few tears now and then and just let 'em out.
I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while, even though going on with you gone still upsets me.
When I see anyone in town, especially Haymitch, I plaster a smile on my face to show that I'm strong. It doesn't work on him, he knows me too well.
There are days every now and again I pretend I'm okay, but that's not what gets me.
As my sobbing starts, like it has so many times before, I think of how I made Peeta and the entire country believe I was in love with for the Games. I wanted to tell him how complicated it was. I eventually did, but a lot of it was locked deep down inside of me. I now wish that I told him everything.
What hurts the most, was being so close and having so much to say, and watching you walk away.
And never knowing what could have been.
And not seeing that loving you is what I was trying to do.
What would have happened if I told him that, deep down, I truly loved him? What if he wasn't taken by the Capitol and hijacked? Would he be here now? With me?
It's hard to deal with pain of losing you everywhere I go, but I'm doing it.
It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone.
Still harder.
Getting up, getting dressed, living with this regret.
But I know, if I could do it over, I would trade, give away all the words that I saved in my heart that I had left unspoken.
I wish I could see him. But I think he is still in District 13 receiving treatment for the episode-inducing hijacking. I wish I could tell him that I do love him. That I'm sure. That it's real.
Knock, knock.
I whip around and face the door. My sobbing abruptly stopping. Out of surprise maybe.
Walking silently to the window next to the door, I open the thick curtains slightly.
Haymitch.
Not caring that my face is still red and puffy from my earlier bout of crying, I swing open the door and say, "What do you want, Haymitch?" "Whoa, where'd all the hostility come from, sweetheart?" I shoot him a glare. "What do you want?" I say with more earnest.
"Peeta is coming back today," he looks down at the floor, not knowing what I'm going to say to that. "What?" my mouth hangs open into an O. "The doctors in 13 think he's recovered enough to come back," "Why didn't you tell me?" I accuse him. "I didn't know how you would take it," "Oh," is all I say, and he lets himself out.
I feel the corners of my mouth turn up into a wide smile. He's coming here. There's another knock on the door.
It's tentative.
Confused, I open the door to see Peeta standing there with his hands clasped in front of him.
Thanks for the heads up, Haymitch.
"Peeta?" He flinches at the sound of my voice. "This is fantastic! I can't believe you're here!" I slowly reach for his hand, he stiffens at my touch. I pull away.
He doesn't say a word. He only looks down at his shoes. "Are you okay?" I ask him. "I just...I just can't stay right now," he tells me. "Then why did you come?" I feel a crack in my voice. "I...had to see you again." These are the only things he said before he left.
I still want to tell him everything, but now is not the time.
What hurts the most, is being so close and having so much to say, and watching you walk away.
And never knowing what could have been.
And not seeing that loving you is what I was trying to do.
I might start crying again. For not being able to announce how I feel, and for how he said he wanted to see me again. My conficting emotions bubble up inside of me.
What will happen between us?
I don't know, but I guess I'll find out.