whoop! whoop! gale-centric one-shot alittlebit based off of the songs "sweater weather" by the neighbourhood and "the wrong direction" by passenger. oh, and i don't own thg.
summary
"if only he was there five minutes earlier. those five minutes could've saved her." one-shot gadge-centric sorta anti-galeniss one-shot
it wasn't fair. not at all.
why did he always get the short end of the stick? all the time.
peeta mellark. katniss everdeen. wait- mellark.
katniss mellark.
fucking hell.
they were married now and have two kids.
and now here he is- standing on her front porch.
after all, it's his fault, right?
she blames him for killing her sister and madge and peeta's family.
not fair not fair not fair.
he rings the doorbell and it's like when you kick something or someone.
you just kick the thing so hard that pain is the only feeling it feels and even when you stop it can still feel it.
katniss was kicking him. so hard and it hurt so much.
but here he is, fifteen years laters, begging for her to be friends with him again.
a little blonde boy comes running out and grabs onto her leg.
gale can't help but feel something weird- like the kid could've been his.
it could've been his life.
"what's his name?" he asks.
"cinna-finnick," she smiles. "cinna-finnick gale mellark."
he can't help but grin. he knows it's wrong to grin like nothing ever happened and the boy isn't peeta's but he can't help it.
"he's beautiful," he says as the boy grasps onto his out-stretched finger. "just like his mommy."
the boy, cinna-finnick, grins and shows his tiny teeth.
"was that a compliment, hawthorne?" she asks jokingly.
"obviously, catnip." he smiles.
it's like they're twelve and fourteen again, hunting together in the woods of district twelve, having that tiny bit of fun.
she bids him goodbye because she and peeta have to make dinner, but not before she asks him to eat with them.
he kindly rejects, saying he has other plans.
and he does. for once he has other plans.
so he goes to the graveyard and visits the tombstone that reads such a familiar name that he thinks it's actually her.
he can hear her tease him like she did on reaping day that year katniss went into the games.
he can see the white dress she wears, slightly stained pink near the hem because she ate strawberries, and the pink ribbons in her hair.
and the image of her is so beautiful he can't help but cry.
the untrimmed grass on her grave is like her hair, neat but so messy at the same time, and he feels so horrible that he let her die in that stupid fire.
stupid stupid stupid fire.
of course it's all his fault and he knows it.
if only he was there five minutes earlier. those five minutes could've saved her.
those stupid stupid five minutes.
he mumbles something that's supposed to be sad and meaningful but it doesn't work.
it's not fair that she's dead or that her family is dead.
and then it's too much for him because he breaks down and cries and wants her to be there for him.
but she isn't because she's dead.
not fair not fair not fair.
and then he's done crying and every time he comes here, it always always always ends the same.
"no madge," he says, wiping away the tears in his stone grey eyes. "not fair at all."