Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing
AN: I have too many feels to not write them.
His Knife
His first night home, he tries going to sleep, like he used to. Before - before everything. But he can't sleep. Whenever he gets close, a paralysing fear jolts him awake. He slips down to the kitchen in his new home, and fumbles around until he finds a knife. He takes it back to his bed. He's not safer, not really, but at least now he can defend himself from the terrors lurking half-formed in his subconscious.
He loses everyone and everything that matters, but the knife never leaves his side. The knife becomes his new best friend. It's something they won't take from him. It accompanies him to his annual trip to the Capitol. It's by his side as he watches his tributes die. They say that, with time, pets begin to resemble their owners. With time, he begins to resemble the knife. He is cold and hard, but stays sharp. No one tries to get close to him.
She doesn't have to try.
They get thrown together, year after year. She becomes as familiar as his knife. Though she doesn't look it, she's as strong as it, too. When he cuts her, she doesn't bleed. She cuts back. He can't help getting close to her, and he can't sleep. Because now, his subconscious threatens her as well. His knife isn't as sharp as it used to be.
The nightmares become real, and she's gone from him. His knife is useless.
It's far too long before she shows up at his door. She's changed. She's stronger than his knife ever was. That first night with her home, with them both safe, with each other, is the first night since before everything that he sleeps like he used to.