A/N: Well helluu thar! x3 Okies, I didn't think I'd ever write anything for Hunger Games (even though I love the series) just because it's so complex in itself. But I got an idea the other day I just couldn't ignore. x33 My cousin, XxAudaciaxX, introduced me to this epic trilogy, and from the beginning she was a die-hard fan of Gale and Katniss as a couple, even though they didn't end up together in the end. (I myself am a dedicated Peeta/Katniss fan~ x333 So you know I love this girl xDD I usually don't write about any couple I don't support xD) Even though it went into depth the bond Gale and Katniss share, it never really delved into any uuber-cute, hurt/comfort moments that I love between love interests so much. So here it is! :D
Anyway, this is dedicated to XxAudaciaxX, who is the most awesomely awesomest person you could ever meet. I'm serious. x33 She's that genius writer I love so much! =33 she's brilliant, intelligent, epicle, and sweet as the day is long. I know she's been through some rough stuff, and we go a while between when we really get together and talk, but when we do, it's like we've never been apart. We just never run out of stuff to talk about. x33 This is for you, girl! Ily! 83 I appreciate your friendship! It's so special to me. ^.^ In fact, you're special to me. x3
Disclaimer: ..Right. Like I could pull off anything as awesome as the Hunger Games. xDD I'm not creative like that.
This is in Katniss's POV..*gulp* ..Wow, I really have no idea how I'mma work this. xDD I hope I'm alright with the characterization! She's hard to pinpoint.. anywhoozle, hope y'all like this, even if it DOES turn out epic fail! 8D.. Oh! And this probably takes place around the beginning/middle of the second book.
No matter how much time passes, the pain never completely goes away. Ask anyone who's lost a loved one. Doesn't matter if they're eighty and decades have passed.. the grief will still be as fresh as if it'd happened just the other day.
Dad's birthday is today. Since he never got a break from work, even on a holiday like that, he never got to do anything special. I always saved up for the entire year to get him something that he would like. Even if it was something like an old pair of scissors, he always acted thrilled over it and thanked me profusely.
He was always so selfless.. memories of him that I've refused to dwell on have invaded my mind all day. Tears sting my eyes and I close them to keep them at bay. Why is it that a birthday or anniversary holds so much power than any other day?
Must be the memories attached to them.
The pond where Dad used to take me swimming in the woods... I'm there. It seems appropriate, somehow. Nostalgia chills me to the bone and I sit in the tall grass surrounding it, drawing my knees to my chest. Here I can be alone. Here I don't have to hold back my tears. ..Gale says the only time I smile is when I'm in the forest. ..Well, sometimes it's the only time I cry, too.
The small hunter's cabin at the edge of the pond I can see out of the corner of my eye. I don't make my way to it. I'd rather stay as close to the pond as possible without dipping my foot in. I just can't bring myself to get in today. It seems somehow betraying, that I should be in there without my dad.
Last time I had visited here, I had talked to Gale about running away.. and he'd been willing. Until mention of Peeta came up and he crossly made his departure. I hadn't seen him since. ..It was probably better that way.
I remember one day when I was little, Dad had taught me to skip rocks here. I thought it was so cool. I'd even thought it was Dad's special skill, that nobody else besides him knew how to do it.
I just couldn't get the hang of it. Every time I'd try, the rock would just sink into the water with a plop, like every other rock. Dad patiently instructed me how to find a perfect skipping stone - a flat, smooth one - and demonstrated the toss. He even guided my arm. And with Dad's help, I'd make it to ten skips before it'd sink. I'd been absolutely thrilled.
I fingered a skipping stone in my palm, running my finger over it and staring at the shimmering water. I halfheartedly threw it.. only to have it plop below the surface upon immediate contact. No better than my first try had been.
After Dad died I hadn't been able to bring myself to skip stones again. Too many memories intermingled. Now emotions burrowed inside me all day rose to the surface in one angry, bitter wave. I grabbed as many rocks as my hands could carry and threw them all at the water, giving an angry cry every time I reeled back my arm. None of them skipped in my raging mirth, droplets of water flying through the air as they hit the surface and sank.
I dug my fingers into the dirt and dipped my head, a sob choking my throat.
It was so much like me. Life had never been that great, but it'd been so much more than tolerant when Dad was alive. Like the perfect pebble I'd bounced through life, content as I stayed above my circumstances and hadn't let it get to me. Now, like when the habit of skipping rocks perfectly had died and my rocks now sunk, since Dad died I felt like whenever a trial hit me I was so dangerously close to sinking, never to come up again.
Then, I heard him before I saw him. Swiping at my eyes hastily, I couldn't bring my gaze up. Gale had seen the worst of me, this was no different.
He came and sat beside me. Only with Gale were silences comfortable. He didn't have to say anything, and I'm glad he didn't try to. His mere presence was a comfort. I regained my composure but still didn't look at him, my gaze on the water.
"I knew you'd be here," Gale said softly, laying his hand on top of mine. The hand that could build amazing traps within seconds, the hand that held his bow so securely, his nimble hand. His touch radiated warmth from my hand all the way through my body. We'd become friends only after Dad had died and I'd started hunting to put food on the table, so he'd never known Dad too well. But everyone in the district had liked Dad. He was all-around well known as a nice guy. What I like about Gale is that he never tries to act like he totally knew Dad and that his grief over him was congruent to mine (like so many people do when they try to comfort you), even though I knew it saddened him.
Tears blinded my vision. I certainly couldn't bring myself to look at him now. "..I used to come here and swim with him." I paused, taking in a deep breath. "This was where he taught me how to skip rocks." I tried for a chuckle, but it came out like a chipmunk's dying breath. And trust me, I know what that sounds like. "I'm a little rusty, to say the least."
"Nothing a little practice can't fix," Gale pointed out, removing his hand (which I honestly felt a little disappointment at) to feel the ground. He came up with a flat, smooth stone. He passed it to me, his fingers brushing mine. His gray eyes assessed me. "I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, averting his gaze. "..This day's always hard for you.. every year."
I rolled the stone over in my hand, staring at it wordlessly. My throat closed up so suddenly I didn't trust myself to speak.
It had escaped my notice when exactly Gale had inched closer to me, but I sure noticed now. I felt so torn, so hopelessly lost. A fleeting thought came and went - how easy it would be to just end it all. But no. That was the idea of a quitter, of a coward. Besides, I couldn't do that to my family - not when they'd suffered so much already. Ending your own life just to escape the circumstances... that's the lowest of the low to me.
I felt his callused, yet strangely soft, fingers on my face. My breath caught. "Don't be strong for my sake, Catnip," he whispered, his words genuine. Tears sprang to my eyes.
Gale, who knew me inside and out.. practically better than I knew myself. We shared a bond unlike any other. Suddenly waves of emotion rolled over me, and I was anew aware of how much I'd missed him. I know he hasn't known what to do with me since I came back hardened and scarred from the Hunger Games. But he'd stayed by my side anyway. No doubt countless times he'd rooted for me while watching me on tv, despite my many "scenes" with Peeta. No doubt truly believing in me from the beginning, believing in me when nobody else did... he'd seen the best and worst of me, and that wasn't about to change.
A question that'd consistently burned in my mind all through the Hunger Games demanded for my attention. "Gale," I whispered, leaning my face into his hand and closing my eyes, relishing in his touch. "..That day of the Reaping, what was it you wanted me to remember?" When Gale had visited me right before I'd left for the Hunger Games, as the Peacekeepers were taking him away, he'd told me to remember.. something. That was when he'd been dragged out the door, thus increasing my curiosity and need to know.
Gale's gray eyes met mine, and I was overwhelmed at the depth of emotion in them. His hand cupped my cheek. "..That I love you," he said softly, his lips finding mine in one swift motion.
That's when I couldn't take it anymore. As I closed my eyes, getting lost in the kiss, I felt the tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks. He pulled away and gently stroked them away with his thumb, kissing the tearstains.
I buried my face in his chest and cried, really cried, for the first time in months.. maybe even years. Tears that I needed to let out. Sobs wracked my body as Gale's arms enveloped me, stroking my back in rhythmic, comforting circles.
Happy birthday, Dad..
A/N: I have to admit, I'm not too pleased with the final outcome. xD I really don't like the way this turned out. Ah well... it's been a super long time since I've read the Hunger Games trilogy, so I guess that can be my excuse. xP I had fun writing this though, even if I don't necessarily support the couple. I always really loved their friendship, though. They really did have a strong bond unlike any other. ^_^ I hope you guys enjoyed this in spite of the epic fail it is. xD; Hope you liked it, Jess! :D I'm sorry I couldn't do better! D: I feel like I could've done a MUCH better job.. but oh well. It is what it is. x3 Please review! I'd appreciate some feedback! =3