Just a little something I cooked up while on vacation about a month ago.

Warning: Contains Madniss... yes this does mean homosexuality... don't like it, don't scar yourself, k?



What she's saying is important, but I hear nothing. My brain lost in her face. I love her serious countenance: so important, so commanding. So beautiful that I am unable to look upon it for more than several moments at a time without diverting my gaze. For the thousandth time, I study my fingernails, though I already know what they look like: overgrown and filthy, the final remains of polish from the last time my appearance had been addressed by Cinna. Eyes trained on my boot, I scrape one such island of paint off with my front teeth and wipe it on the back of my hand.

Though I know the flames that had adorned my fingers were never real and though I didn't swallow any of the nail polish, there is still a fire in my gut as I glance back up at her. I'm not certain how long I was watching—rather than listening to—her speak the second time. I've had enough.

"...you're not listening to a word I'm say—" I lean in and kiss her. It's like I swallowed a stick of dynamite. The fire in my stomach explodes through the rest of my body, scorching every inch, inside and out. But it doesn't hurt. It sort of tingles, although it is impossibly to describe the sensation in words. My hairs stand on end, and all the heat rises to my face. This is nothing like any other kiss I've ever given, received, or even taken for myself without permission. It is a thousand times more potent, more full. In almost every way it is perfect. But in one it is not.

It was stolen, not earned. With difficulty, I pull myself away. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Don't be." She grabs a fistful of my shirt and reels me back in, returning the favor. I can't say much for heaven, as I've neither been there nor even given it much thought, but this second kiss certainly is bliss. Better than the last. It was not taken, it was won. Never before have I experienced a victory so sweet, not even when I won my life back the Games.

It is the blink of an eye and an eternity before we break apart. It could very well have been my lifetime but it was over all too fast. I meet her crystal blue eyes with my own and silently beg for more. I do not beg. I do not want, I do not need. Yet here I am, experiencing all three at the hands of this girl.

"I can't do this to you," she murmurs, eyes dropping to the ground. I try to pull her closer, but her hand lands on my sternum, keeping us apart. "No."

"You can do whatever you want to me," I offer, completely honest, unable to keep a pleading tone out of my voice. This is not me. I have never had trouble masking my emotions, never been so desperate for something before.

"No... it's not right, it's not fair..." There is remorse here. A struggle. I can hear it. I can sense it. A spark of hope relights itself in me. I have to try for it, have to win it.

"To whom?"

"To you! It's unfair to you! You already have more than enough to worry about, and you're already in trouble with the Capitol for Gale." I try to protest, but she cuts me off. "It would be worse with me, and you know it. I don't want to do that to you, Katniss."

"Madge." She looks up at me again, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I don't care about that right now." I am making a big mistake by not thinking things through here, and in the back of my head I know it. I am likely endangering not only myself and Madge, but both of our families here. Our friends. People we don't know. But I can't focus on them. I have never been an overly selfish person, but at the moment I must come before the majority. After all I've done for others, is it really too much to ask? "All I care about is you." And I mean that.

She smiles and doesn't protest this time when I lean back in. I brace myself for some of the best moments of my life.