Gale locked his jaw as he was forced to watch the offending scene. His was a master at keeping his emotions in check, adopting a mask of indifference was like second nature. After all, living in a country where even the slighting sentence implicated a treasonous meaning would get you publicly tortured, or death. Death wasn't uncommon in most cases. Death wasn't uncommon at all in a deplorable place like Panem.
He stared stoically as Cladius Templesmith commented ecstatically about the so-called "Star-Crossed Lovers" to the citizens of Panem. He knew Katniss was a survivor, that the arena was to her adavantage, she'd be able to adapt quickly. But he realised he underestimated what the Baker Boy, and that Haymitch made a public effort to support his Tributes this time around instead of immersed in his usual stupor.
Jealousy clawed his insides as heard the intimate whispers between them. The desperation in the words and the tender gaze Mellark was displaying filled Gale wit disgust. Helpless and lovesick; was that his angle? Gale grunted scornfully. The pretence people paraded to get the Capitol's acceptance was nauseating. It's not his fault, a nagging voice tells him. But Gale immediately shut it out, too focussed with his bottled up resentment to heed to his rationality. What secretly aggravated him the most was subconsciously knowing that Mellark's affections was not fake.
But Katniss wasn't like that. Not his Catnip. She would never fall for something cooked up to entertain the Capitol. Nothing pure like love could ever emerge from something as artificial and despicable as the Hunger Games. If anything she'd go along with it because it meant sponsorships. It meant survival. And Katniss was always a survivor.
Still he could feel his stoic expression slowly crack with inexplicable despondency as Katniss was inches away from Mellark's face, her lips hovering too close to his much to Gale's gnawing discomfort. His distant stare began to falter, as he felt a pang of sadness pierce his heart. He tried to ignore the ever-increasing lump of distress building up in his throat. He knew it wasn't because of danger; they were safe in the cave from other Tributes. His muscles tensed as he continued to watch the scene unravel before him, wanting more than anything to switch it off and run to the safe haven of the woods.
But this was mandatory. Not that had a real choice in life in the first place. If life was living; life in Seam was more akin surviving.
The fire that was fueled with hatred and burning hostility suddenly condensed into something fragile; more agonising. Pain. Heartache. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were kissing. On live television. In front of the whole country.
Gale didn't deem himself as an sensitive person. He was more passionate than emotional. Like his loathing towards the Capitol and heated speeches in the freedom of the woods. But in this instant, his emotions betrayed him as water began to well up in his unconcealed guise. It's pretend, he mentally repeated, Katniss doesn't love Mellark. It had become an insistent mantra to convince himself. With that said, Gale grasped a shred of confidence and teared his wavering gaze from the screen as Claudius Templesmith began to exultantly swoon over their act of "undying love". And probably the whole of Capitol too.
He swallowed the lump bitterly, attempting to recover his steel composure. He blinked, forcing the would-be-tears away, and regaining his usual mask of indifference as he repeated his mantra again an again. Until he felt an unexpected pressure to his right hand.
He glanced to the side, expertly hiding his surprise when he saw the hand holding his belonged to the Mayor's daughter, who gazed at him attentively. But he wasn't shocked. She was the only person he could converse with without receiving sorry looks since the beginning of the Games. And she wasn't as pompous as he initially perceived her to be. Madge Undersee would often watch the viewing in the Square with the Everdeens and Hawthornes. She was Katniss' friend too, apparently.
Gale grey eyes met her sapphire ones clouded with concern. A look he decided didn't suit her. He inwardly cursed himself for letting his guard down for the blatantly superficial performance. Undersee must have seen the cracks in his mask.
"Are you okay?" Madge asked, quietly enough to avoid the Peacekeepers' castigation.
Her soft tone was coloured with gentle worry, but Gale must have imagined the silent pity present there too. He didn't need pity from anyone. His glare and impassiveness returned swiftly at the conclusion and he turned his attention back to the screen, leaving the reply hanging in the thick air. He was glad the kissing stopped and the screen was now showing what a red-headed fox-faced Tribute was doing.
Gale couldn't help but notice Madge did not retract her hand (but neither did he for a reason he couldn't find). After admitting internally he was wrong to brush her question, he squeezed her hand gently. She would know he was somewhat fine. Gale could have swore he saw her give a small smile from the corner of his eye for a split-second.
In retrospect, he should be smiling a little too. His doubt about Katniss not coming home diminished day by day. Katniss will be coming back soon. But deep down he knew it wouldn't be the same anymore. Everyone knew the consequences of being a victor, and most times, the bad outweighed the good.
A/N: This is my first Hunger Games ff. I hope it was too OOC. It was an idea which popped in my head after reading some other Hunger Games ffs. Title inspired by "A Drop in the Ocean" by Ron Pope (It's really relatable to the situation with the pairing canon/non-canon in the books!) Thank you reading :) Reviews and constructive criticism are happily welcomed. No Beta.