"Well, Haymitch, if you wanted company you should have asked for it!" I yell. It's his fault. After he won the Games, girls were probably all over him when he was finally able to resume a normal life in District 12. "Sweetheart, I drink for a reason! To slip out of reach and numb my emotions! You try having a sibling and parent killed, Katniss!" Haymitch yells. Peeta pops his head in the living room. "She has, Haymitch. Try having your whole family killed at once thanks to firebombs." Peeta teases. We try our best to forget, and when that's not an option, we joke about it.
"Thank God the kids are at Hazelle's house with Aquarius, or they would be pretty much terrified of their mother screaming at her mentor." Peeta says. Aquarius is Finnick and Annie's son. With Finnick dead, Annie isn't what she used to be. But she is still mentally insane. Kinda like me. Our kids, Artemis and Bannock, have gotten used to spending time with old Hazelle. Hazelle is too worn down to do anything, really, but Peeta and I trust her to keep them safe.
The scent of bread and cheese comforts me and drags me to the kitchen. "Not for you, Katniss. For Hazelle." Peeta laughs, as swipes the platter away from my sight. He carefully puts the buns into a basket. "Are you going to pick up the kids, too?" I shout, as Peeta makes his way to the door. "No, Katniss, I'm just going to randomly drop off a basket of cheese buns at their door without doing anything else." he says sarcastically. I hear the clunk of the metal that replaced his leg as it slightly hits the door. "Tell Peeta I'm out hunting." I tell Haymitch, as he opens his fifth bottle of liquor. He gives me a shrug as I run up the stairs to grab the bow Beetee made for me, way back during the war. It gives a soothing purr as I touch the soft black velvet. "Well, well, hello to you too." I whisper back. I sling it over my shoulder.
I walk out, feeling the cool winter air against my pale skin. I walk against the gravel path of the Victor's Village, and find little Buttercup near Haymitch's door. I lift him up in my arms, and he seems pleased with whatever warmth is coming from my body. I quietly let him into our house, where he is supposed to be. He starts rubbing against my ankles until he smells something and wonders into the kitchen. I spin on my heel to walk towards the fence until I hear it. His strangely calming, strong voice. He shouts my name. I peek around the corner. His dark brown hair, gray eyes that mean relation to the Seam, and his skin turning pale against the wind.
Gale.