Author's note: This is my very first fanfiction ever written. So please review and feel free to criticize! Or compliment if you like it haha. Enjoy! X
*Note* Disclaimer of the Hunger Games. All characters belong to the lovely Suzanne Collins.
Just like last year, we said our good-byes the night before, although we'll see each other tomorrow. Except this time the prep team wasn't here, not even Venia. Too busy grieving I guess. Cinna's face flashed a sign of great fear and terror. What was he thinking? That he'll never see me again? Because he's right. I plan to bring Peeta back, with the help of Haymitch. A feeling of sadness jolts up into me. I plan to bring Peeta back. No nightlock to rebel the Capitol; Plutarch Heavensbee knows better than to get himself into the fate of Seneca Crane. He's dead, and I can't help but blame myself for it.
The thought of last year's Gamemaker darts me back into reality. I don't want to dwell on it. Effie embraces me so tightly, I swear I could feel my heart dysfunction for a millisecond. Finally Haymitch raises his glass of wine towards me. "Best of luck out there, sweetheart."
I figure out what he's implying right away. "Best of luck saving Peeta." No doubt we'd make it far, but the boy with the bread won't let us separate. He's afraid of losing me. A rush of guilt spreads all over my body. Will my plan work? If I kill myself, will that ensure Peeta's safety? Someone else would murder him. Everybody wants to live. The thought stalks me back into my bedroom. The only thing keeping me sane is Peeta. I have to plan out his survival if I want him back in District twelve.
Fortunately, he didn't follow me into my room because I needed to change. My Mockingjay dress was weighing me down. As I peered into my closet the only outfit laid out was a silky tank and velvet sleep pants. I consider wearing it but a voice seeps into my head. "If I'm gonna die, I wanna still be me." I followed the voice, because strangely I trust who it came from. After the everlasting shower due to the layers of makeup Cinna caked on me, I see my actual reflection. This might be the last time I see myself through a mirror, I thought. For some reason, I felt comfortable stepping out of the bathroom in just my undergarments. Maybe it was because I revealed everything to my prep team and Cinna, and no one was checking on me tonight. Nobody ever bothers on the last night. We all need our time to think and reflect on the past. I wouldn't mind if Peeta came into my room, because we needed each other now. Our fate is in the Gamemakers hands tomorrow. Would President Snow order Plutarch to set deadly traps wherever I go? I did out rule the 74th Hunger Games, and look where it got me. Everyone I care about is in danger, far or near. Suddenly someone pops into my mind, but I can't think these thoughts with myself, I needed somebody to vent out to. So I wrap a sleeping robe around me and slip out into the hallway as quietly as Rue.
Rue. Now I definitely need comfort. I don't even knock, because I know he wouldn't mind. When I opened the door he was looking out the Capitol-constructed window, just staring into the night sky. He doesn't even acknowledge my presence. So I crawled into his bed, and under his sheets. My thoughts are sending chills to my spine. Or perhaps Peeta never bothered to turn the heat on. He still never turned his head. Our silent company is soothing, for the reason we both understand that we have loads to worry about. After a longing fifteen minutes, I finally whisper, "What if he tries something on Haymitch?"
"He won't," Peeta replies. His voice was shaky, so I can tell his answer was uncertain. "He's targeting people we would give in to. If Haymitch is in danger, we'll attempt to rescue him, of course. But what if it was Prim? Or my father? For these human beings we sacrifice ourselves."
And he was right. It's the truth which I didn't wish to believe. I don't want Snow touching Prim, the Hawthornes, or Peeta's family for his sake. Peeta. His words shot a greater sense of fear into me. The fact I'm certain I have to be dead for him scares me. I'm thankful I hid my feelings from Mother and Prim. If I can't handle them, they certainly couldn't. Peeta must have sensed my fear, because he tucks himself into bed beside me. I don't even need to be asked; I just position myself under his shoulder and wrap my arm around his upper body. I didn't even know until now; I lacked human touch ever since the reaping and I'm glad to have him with me at this moment. "Are you going to sleep?" I question.
"Not until you drift off." His answer brings a muddle of emotions. I'm unsure whether to be grateful he loves me, or selfish because I don't feel the same way. Either choice, we're not going to have such a peaceful conversation ever again. No, not now, I demand myself. You're not allowed to think that way now. Time's up. So I play out what Snow would have desired. I won't live to regret any of this; I'm not making it out alive and having a future. Even if neither of us survives, I want Peeta to die happily. Knowing the girl he expresses his undying love for cares about him at least. I prop myself up until I'm halfway on top of him, and send him a deep kiss. The kiss represented my thanks to him, for holding onto me whenever I had nightmares, and not leaving me to die when he figured my actions in the games were based on survival. I think it startled him a bit, because he doesn't respond right away. Then I feel our lips move in sync. I'm not quite certain how long the kiss lasted but when we pulled apart, his eyes expressed longing, I know he wasn't prepared for these feelings. He replies with a sweeter, gentle one, and I could almost taste the icing from the bakery back home. The bakery I'm not returning to.
"Was that for me?" he asks. Or was it for the Capitol, his eyes read.
"For you of course, who else?" I smile at my response, because this is the perfect excuse to end the conversation. "You must be tired, your brain's malfunctioning."
This time Peeta grins. "Probably, yeah."
"Get some sleep."
"I'll try. You too, promise?"
"Promise." And I pull the sheets up until only our heads are exposed. I rest my head on his chest and hear the strong heartbeat.
"You're going to make it out alive, I'll ensure that." His words break me, because he's clueless of my strategy. I manage a muffled "mmhhmm" because I have no idea how to respond to what he just said.
Minutes pass by until Peeta finally makes some movement. Of course, his movements were for me. His lips touch my hair and he kisses it. "I love you," he whispers.
And at that moment my body relaxed, however I didn't reply. My eyelids felt heavy for once, compared to the past few months where I slept restless. When my eyes open up, he and I will expect and be prepared for the worst. Hopefully, a miracle happens and we won't have to wake up to the dangers awaiting us.