Hello my loyal readers =) So...I'm moving. And right now, I'm in my friend's house in a different state all the way across the country, waiting to continue the journey tomorrow. And the day after that. Then I get to go to Disney...and then I'll arrive. So I'm on very limited computer/WiFi access, and my laptop dies after about 20 minutes (and it takes me significantly longer to write a single story -.-). So I'll try to crank this out with my limited resources, and the fact that it's 1 in the morning probably means it's gonna turn out bad too since I'm half-awake.

Anyway, I'm feeling adventurous lately, and I'm submitting stories in communities I never have before! =D Last week was Vampire Diaries, this week is... \cue dramatic music\ THE HUNGER GAMES! I love these books so much. I had the first book for summer reading last year, and (come and get me, Keeta shippers) I LOVE GALE AND KATNISS (Kale) SO FRIGGIN MUCH! I've read the whole series I can't even tell you how many times. But they're already screwing up the movie -_- Liam Hemsworth is NOT Gale. Avan Jogia is -_- And Josh Hutcherson is not Peeta, Lucas Till is -_- I'm pretty okay with Katniss, except she's a bit too...I don't know, girly? Feminine? Pretty?

I'll stop talking now. This is just a Gale oneshot that's been floating around in my head for about a year, but I've never had the guts to submit. Try to enjoy, though it might stink, considering it's my first HG fic. =)

-CheckItOutGirl=)

A/N: 3rd person. Check out my profile for info, updates, polls, etc.!

. . .

She's Mine

"So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" that sickening golden boy, Peeta, asks with his forehead romantically pressed against Katniss's.

The screen flashes to a close-up of Catnip. "Put you somewhere you can't get hurt."

Gale Hawthorne sat in his tiny living room with his small, broken family, watching the mandatory Hunger Games on their small, broken television. I can't take much more of this, Gale practically screamed inside his head, his sanity slowly slipping away with every make-out session Peeta inflicted on his best friend.

It was like the Hunger Games this year was solely a romantic drama, not an international fight-to-the-death match like it usually was. But why did it have to focus on Katniss and Dough-boy? There seemed to be other couples there, too. That Cato guy and the Clove girl seemed to have a thing going on. Why were they only shown in a few shots? Surely the nation didn't want to see Catnip and the Golden Boy all over each other all the time.

At least Gale didn't.

Minutes of tense speculation passed, the anxiety so tangible and thick in the room that you could pierce it with an arrow. Gale's blood was pumping and his heart skipped a few beats every time he saw his Catnip flash across the screen, constantly fearing that that would be the last time he'd see her...well, alive, that is.

More minutes flew by, more close calls eluded, and more kissing done. By what seemed like the millionth time for Gale, he threw up his hands in a huff and tore out of the room, enraged and sick to his stomach with jealousy.

Gale stormed into the backyard, kicking at the dirt, dead grass, and roots with all the hatred in the world. He threw things, swore, cursed the world. Why couldn't it have been him in that arena? Why couldn't he have been there with her, his Katniss, to protect her like the Baker couldn't?

Eventually he fell with a heavy exhale onto the stump in the middle of the yard, hacking at a stick he found with his hunting knife, muttering profanities under his breath.

Suddenly he hears a small voice behind him. "Gale?" it says, ringing like bells through the dismal atmosphere. He listens as soft, gentle footsteps approach behind him.

He tosses the stick away, his back muscles tensing with his awkward body posture, turning his hunting knife over and over in his calloused hands. "What do you want, Posy?" Gale responds, his voice tired.

A few more steps closer. "What's wrong?"

He lets out a harsh cough of a laugh. "You wouldn't understand. You're too young." Turning his face slightly towards her, he barks, "Go back inside."

Posy, disappointed, starts to go back inside, causing Gale to internally sigh as he hears her little feet retreating. But determination soon crosses her little face, and scrunching it up in determination, she balls her fists and asks, "Can I sit with you?"

Gale's hard demeanor cracks slightly, and he shifts his body in her direction, considering. Giving up, he scoots over and pats the spot next to him, and with a jerk of his head and a sigh, complies, "Come here."

Posy trots over, her in her dirty little pink dress and loose braids hopping up onto the stump. She dangles her scratched up legs over the edge, still too small to for her feet to reach the ground. Gale continues to fiddle with the hunting knife, his thick brows pulled together in deep thought.

Minutes of calculating silence goes by. Then suddenly, Posy innocently inquires, "Is it Katniss?"

"Yeah," Gale mumbles in response, burying his face in his hands.

"Why don't you like Katniss anymore?"

Taken aback, Gale responds, stumbling over his words, "I-I do like Catni—I mean, Katniss. I...I like her a lot." No, Gale thinks to himself, you love her, damnit.

Posy's little face scrunches up in confusion. "Then why'd you get all mad at the TV?"

Gale chortles softly. "Because I don't like Peeta."

"The blonde guy?"

"Yeah, the blonde guy," he says with a cold smile.

Another moment of silence goes by.

"You want to be him, don't you?"

Gale's eyes widen in shock, whipping his face back out of his hands to look at his little sister. Slightly embarrassed and taken aback by the accusation, he manages, "Wha—? How do you...?"

Posy crosses her arms and sticks her chin up proudly. "I know a lot more than you think. Vick told me lots of things." She leans in close to Gale and whispers, "He also told me that cooties aren't real, either, so that's good for you."

Gale chuckles at her childish innocence. "Thanks," he whispers back, pretending like she just told him a huge secret. Then he sighs as his thoughts catch back up to him. "And yeah...I guess I do want to be Peeta right now." He stares off into the distance—beyond the electric fence, beyond the forest...right into the sunset, one of the few beautiful things in District 12. "I'd give anything to be in his position."

Posy stares at her older brother thoughtfully. "You really like Katniss, don't you?" Her voice is calm and judgment-free.

"Yes, Posy," Gale replies, getting annoyed by her incessant questions on a subject he'd much rather not talk about. He's not usually one to share his feelings so openly.

"Do you love her?"

Reaching the brink of full-blown, irritated anger, Gale admits reluctantly, "Yes, Posy, okay? I love Katniss. I love Katniss Everdeen," his voice growing louder toward the end.

Posy leans in again and whispers to Gale's peeved face, "It's okay. I like her too." Then she gets up and starts skipping back to the house, dark braids bouncing wildly, chanting, "Gale and Katniss, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."

Laughing to himself, he watches her disappear back inside; and once again, he's alone with his thoughts.

I love Katniss, he repeats in his head, slowly realizing he might as well get used to the blunt fact that's been hanging over his head for years. I love Katniss. My Catnip. My Katniss. Damn that Peeta Mellark.

She's mine. She's always been mine. Even though you may have her now, I'll stop at nothing to take her back from you.

She's mine.