A/N: So...this is pretty short & fluffy. :) Maybe even incredibly cheesy :D Let me know what you think!
I settle in an armchair by the fire, listening to Prim and Katniss talk while they suck on mint candies. I watch Katniss stroke Prim's silky hair with that tender, older-sister way she has. The love she has for Prim is obvious. I only wish she had room in her heart for me as well.
Mrs. Everdeen brings Katniss a soothing cup of tea and pours in a few drops of sleep syrup. I can't help thinking of the arena when I see it. The too-sweet taste of the berries on my tongue. The shock when I realized what she had done. The hard look in her eyes when she forced me to swallow them as I desperately tried to resist. The overwhelming fear that seized me when I woke to find her, lifeless and pale, blood flowing from the terrifying gash on her forehead. I had almost lost her then. I swallow down the lump in my throat and try to push away the flood of awful memories.
Katniss's mother takes away her empty cup.
"I'll help her up to bed," I say. I offer Katniss my hand and pull her out of her chair. I guide her to the stairs, her head leaning on my shoulder, while she takes ginger steps with her injured foot. I can see she's already getting foggy, so I lift her into my arms and carry her. Her sweet breath fans across my face, peppermint from the candies and sugar from the syrup. Her heart beats steadily next to mine. I can hardly call it mine, though. I wonder if she knows just how completely she alone has sole possession of it.
We reach her bedroom and I gently place her in her bed, pull the blankets over her. The effects of the syrup are starting to kick in. All the stress and worry of the day are fading away from her beautiful face. Her features are smooth and perfect, and already her eyelids are starting to droop.
With her dark, glossy hair spread across her pillow and the worry that so often creases her brow relaxed as sleep overcomes her, she looks just like an angel. I lean down and kiss her forehead.
"Good night, Katniss," I say softly.
But as I turn to leave she reaches up and grabs my hand.
"Don't go yet," she mumbles. "Not until I fall asleep."
So I sit on the edge of her bed, making the old springs creak. It feels so good to hold her hand again, especially after what happened today. My stomach had been clenched with worry all day, thinking she'd decided to leave the district after all, and I was hoping beyond hope that she was okay.
"Almost though you'd changed your mind today," I tell her. "When you were late for dinner."
"No, I'd have told you," she murmurs. She pulls my hand up to her face and presses it against her cheek. I gaze at her perfect face, listen to the sound of her peaceful breathing, feel the soft velvet of her skin against my hand.
"Stay with me," she sighs as the drug pulls her under. A rush of warmth of washes over me. She wants me to stay with her.
Her eyes are closed now and I'm almost sure she won't hear me, but I say it anyway.
"Always," I whisper.