A/N: My first real Katniss/Gale fanfiction! This is an AU, but it's mentioned in Mockingjay. Here's what the text says:
I'm searching for some sign of the boy and girl who met by chance in the woods five years ago. Wondering what would have happened if the Hunger Games had not reaped the girl. If she would have fallen in love with the boy, married him even. And sometime in the future, when the brothers and sisters had been raised up, escaped into the woods with him and left Twelve behind forever. Would they have been happy, out in the wild, or would the dark, twisted sadness between them have grown up even without the Capitol's help?
Or something like that. Not exact, maybe, seeing as what I just typed was from memory.
Anyways, I hope you like it, and please review!
The girl watches desperately as the name is called. "Veronica Holly!" The crowd of teenagers breathes a sigh of relief, thankful that they are safe until next year. Except, of course, for Veronica Holly, an olive-skinned fifteen-year-old. She makes her way tremblingly to the stage where she is joined in a few minutes by a blonde boy named Peeta Mellark.
The watching girl looks over her shoulder and catches the eye of an older boy, who grins. She does not smile back.
The blonde boy, Peeta Mellark, sits hunched over in a plush chair. The door opens and the watching girl enters. Peeta Mellark looks up, his pale, terrified face flooding with color.
"Hello," the girl says uncertainly. Her gray eyes flit nervously around the room, as if looking for an escape. "I don't know if you remember me, but—"
"I do," the boy blurts, and then coughs self-consciously. "I mean, yeah, I know who you are."
"And I know you," the girl says, and looks Peeta Mellark right in the eyes. "I want to say thank you for the bread. You gave it to me five years ago. I-I don't know why. You didn't even know me, you still don't. And your mother hit you. Why? Why did you do it?" Her voice has grown louder but not harsh.
"You're thanking me for that?" The boy asks in disbelief, snorting despite the fear that is plain in his entire being. "All those years ago?" He hesitates as if deciding something, and then continues. "I don't let people starve in my own backyard, no matter what my mother thinks. It doesn't matter anymore, anyways." He sucks in a sharp breath as though he has been hurt. Judging by the look on his face, perhaps he has.
"I'm sorry," the girl murmurs. "I had to say it, though. I didn't want to – I mean, it's just—" She struggles for the words. "I didn't want you to think I wasn't grateful."
The two teenagers stand awkwardly, watching each other. The air has a tense feel, and an unidentifiable emotion passes between them. Then the girl looks away. "I said it," she mutters, as though convincing herself. Without a backward glance, she exits through the same doorway, her dark braid whipping out of sight.