Hard Rain

I

The telephone rings and they freeze, staring at each other.

He moves to answer it and she seizes his arm, holding him in place. 'Don't. It could be a trap.'

'They've known you're here since you stepped into the building. If they're planning a trap we're already in it.'

She lets him go, watching fearfully as he picks up the phone and lifts it to his ear.

'Yes?'

'Haymitch.' It's Peeta. 'They're on their way.'

Haymitch digests the news, feeling Katniss's gaze heavy on his face. 'Ok. Thanks for the warning.'

'I'm sorry – for everything.' Peeta lets out a choked breath. 'Tell Katniss goodbye.'

'I will. Goodbye, Peeta.' Haymitch puts down the phone, turns back to Katniss. 'He says they're coming. And he said to tell you goodbye.'

Her eyes fill with tears. So he knows she's here. 'Oh Peeta.'

He swallows. 'He shouldn't have called. Now they'll punish him too.'

He wishes he'd kept this last thought to himself as Katniss puts a hand to her mouth. But a moment later she lifts her head, eyes sad but quiet.

'He must have known that when he called. He put himself in danger for us.'

'He's a good man. Always was.'

She moves into his arms and he pulls her close, his hand stroking her hair. He remembers other moments they've spent together, their sweetness – and their sadness, because the moments are always snatched, never lasting more than a few hours. Now all he wants is to hold her quietly, to make this moment stretch out forever. It should have been theirs forever, repeated across years – not here in the police state of the Capitol, but in the Meadow in 12 while the birds are singing, or in front of the fire in her kitchen as Prim's orange cat crouches on the table.

A vehicle screeches to a halt in the street outside. He's tempted to go to the window, to watch the black-clothed figures piling out of the van, but he can't leave Katniss, not for a moment.

Her eyes find his. 'Now?'

He nods slowly, throat dry. 'Now.'

Slowly they walk hand in hand to the glass bowl on the table. The berries glint darkly in the lamplight, luscious and smooth-skinned.

One last kiss, a goodbye, but also a promise. They look at each other, eyes gleaming in the dark. Slowly, they raise the berries to their lips.