I've only read the first and second book of the trilogy, so any mistakes I made, please point out to me. Experimenting with a different style of writing... This is slightly AU. Takes place in the middle of Catching Fire.
My first Hunger Games fanfic! Enjoy... and please review? ;)
I haven't seen anyone yet.
Not that I expect them to be up, not with everything that has been going on. I expect anyone with a brain would tucked nice in bed, because it was highly likely that the next few days will be too stressful to even contemplate going to sleep.
I know that if I am caught out of bed in the middle night that I will get a loud scolding, probably from Effie, or maybe Haymitch. I wonder what Capitol is thinking of me sneaking around the mansion in the middle of the night. I snicker to myself, amused slightly. Let them figure it out.
There is a noise from down the hallway, I startle and quickly slip into the room closet to me.
After a moment, I realize that it was nothing and I curse myself for being so jumpy.
I step silently into the dark room, hoping that my pounding heart won't give away my attempt at stealth.
Peeta was still in my room, sleeping like a baby, I tried my best to sneak out from under his arms to get a breath of fresh air without waking him.
When one has nightmares, it seems impossible to settle back down to peaceful sleep.
I fumble for the light after standing still and silent for a few minutes, there are no sounds of soft breathing nor any rustling, so I come to the conclusion that no one is in this room. And that is what I need right now. Somewhere I can be silent. Quiet. Alone.
After the light flickers on and my eyes adjust to the warm light, I see papers scattered everywhere on a desk placed to the side of the wall. There is a bed in the corner that looks neatly made, the pillows properly fluffed, and books stacked on the bedside table. If it wasn't for the messy desk, I would've thought I had stumbled into an unused guest room that I never knew existed.
I glance over the papers and so I don't disturb the placement of any other stray sheets of paper, I gently pick up one of the sheets, then I almost drop the drawing as soon as I realize where I am.
This is Cinna's room.
The piece of paper I hold in my hand is a sketch of one of the first outfits he had created for me. A part of me wonders why he still has this sketch. That time is long gone. It seems like it happened years ago even though, I know it happened less than a year ago. Then again, I am not a designer, maybe he uses it as inspiration for future designs? Maybe he keeps all of his sketches. Who knows.
I let it drop back onto the desk, I think I probably should leave, because what if Cinna returns? I don't want him to think I had been snooping through his stuff. With Effie and Haymitch ignoring me, the rest of my prep team bursting into tears when they see, Cinna is one of the few people who treat me like everything is fine. I didn't want to lose that. I don't want him to be angry at me.
I turned to leave when something catches my eye amongst the sheets of paper. It looks familiar.
I wonder if it is the sketch of my wedding dress that Cinna had told me he was working on, but as I reach for it, another hand grasps my wrist to stop me. I snap my head up and instinctively I begin to scream, but Cinna quickly covers my mouth.
I relax as soon as I realize it's just Cinna and mentally chide myself for being caught off guard. Well done, Katniss. Wake up the whole house, won't you?
After nodding to Cinna, assuring him I won't scream, he release me and steps back a little.
"What are you doing here?" I ask in a whisper just in case Effie happens to be lurking behind the door, ready to scold me for being out of bed.
Cinna raises his eyebrows, "Katniss, this is my room."
My face burns red after I remember that, yes, this is his room and I am intruding. "I'm sor-"
He holds up his hand, "No. It's fine. No need to apologize."
I shift from foot to foot awkwardly, because I have intruded on his privacy and he seems like the kind of person that would be extremely bothered by that, maybe even angry. Did I upset him?
I compliment him timidly, "Your drawings, sketches...they are beautiful."
I can see him smile faintly in the dim light, "Thanks, most of them are just random scribbles."
"And even the scribbles are beautiful." I replied honestly, because from the little I saw, every sketch was detailed and obviously a lot of thought had gone into planning and drawing it.
His smiles grows a little more, I could tell he was slighty embarrased by my comments. He nodded towards to the door meanfully, "You better get back to bed, before Effie finds you."
I wince to myself, that is true and I also don't want to worry Peeta if he wakes up during the night and discovers me missing.
I offer a slight smile and nod back, but before I am able to leave, Cinna calls me back and I wait.
His back is turned to me as he faces his desk, I hear a rustle of paper and I wonder if something is wrong. My heart sinks as I realize he might still be upset that I snuck into his room. I open my mouth to try and apologize again, but he quickly approaches me.
Now I know something is wrong, because he hugs me and while I try to figure out why, he discreetly hands something to me, and it takes me a few seconds to relaize what it is. A small folded piece of paper.
There is something off about the way he doesn't make eye contact with me until I have it safely in my grasp. Suddenly I get the feeling that I shouldn't open it right away, where someone or the cameras will see it, I should find someplace quiet to open it.
As he presses it in my hand, Cinna kisses my forehead, "Go to bed, Katniss."
I nodded and gripped the piece of paper, sliding it my pocket carefully and leaving quickly.
Later when I am in my room, safely tucked into bed next to Peeta, I take out the crumbled paper from my pocket, while leaving my head down and partially underneath the covers, so the cameras don't see me or what I am doing, and I unfold the paper
A small sliver of moonlight shines over the top of the thin covers, it is just enough light for me to see what is drawn on the paper Cinna wanted me to have and it nearly makes my heart stop.
A single sketch of a mockingjay, surrounded by small lines curling up in a swirl, which that I guess is meant to symbolize fire.
Cinna was trying to tell me something. Something important.
I crumbled the drawing and quickly stuffed in my pocket, ignoring the sick feeling settling in my stomach.
And I don't like it.
