Author's Notes (Update, Dec. 5, 2012, Manila Time): Hey people! I decided that I would use this as part of my new series, "Quotes and Drabbles". Information on my profile and in the summary.
Author's notes: Hi! This is my second ever HG fanfiic, please read my other one as well, "Scavenge and Sabotage: Foxface's Story" Anyway, this one is a series of fluffy one-shots of Katniss and Peeta. This one is that scene, I call it the "Real or not real" scene. I love that scene! This is how I felt it should have gone, it starts with a nightmare, so don't be shocked when the first couple paragraphs or so are not so fluffy. Read and Review or Buttercup will come get you tonight.
Quote: "Real or not real"
"Prim! Prim!" I yell as loud as I can, but she doesn't turn around, I feel as though time has frozen, she still holds that girl who holds the silver parachute I try to grab her coat but suddenly, the scene changes, I am in the forest, hunting with Gale, we hear a noise, we hide in a nearby bush. She comes into frame, Prim, looking lovely as ever, I smile, "Prim." She smiles back, it was so genuine and so sweet. Suddenly, Gale materializes behind m, but Gale is not Gale anymore, he becomes president Snow, he says, "Oh, Miss Everdeen, I thought we agreed not to lie to each other" and shoots an arrow straight through her stomach, I leap and catch her and I try my best to revive her, but she dies. Then, behind me is Snow, holding a knife to the throat of my Peeta, he chuckles, "Am I really supposed to be the one doing this?" Snow turns to president Coin, and she slashes his cheek, only slightly, "Katniss, why did you choose to kill me and not snow?" she smirks and lets Peeta fall to the ground, the knife had been coated with nightlock poison, the one in the very pill Peeta had taken from me. I run, run to the lake where my father taught me to swim.
The scene changes again, this time, I am in a hole, I know this all too well, somebody is screaming my name, and I yell at the top of my lungs, but am muffled by the first shovel of dirt.
I jolt upright yelling his name. He appears, holding me in his arms, he whispers things I don't quite catch. I cry into his shirt, afraid that they will reappear, the dead.
After a while, I calm down. The sobs gradually turning to whimpers. I make a list of every good thing I've seen a person do, and sigh, "Peeta," "hmm?" "Thank you"
For a while we just lay there, motionless, when he whispers, "You love me real or not real" I don't even have to think when I say, "Real"
He pulls me into his arms, and, after many months, neither of us have nightmares that night.
Please, please, please review!