A/N - Hello! I haven't finished my Dramione fanfiction Linger, I'm just having a lot of trouble with it, and I had this amazing idea the other month and decided to write it to pass the time :-) I don't know how regular updates will be, because I have a lot of coursework, and sometimes I get stuck while writing a particular bit and have to give it a rest for a while, but I'll try and get it up fairly regularly. I hope you enjoy my latest work :-P
Disclaimer - I don't own the world of The Hunger Games, or the characters. The only thing that belongs to me is the plot.
I wake to a fine dusting of light coating my vision. Everywhere I look there are tiny particles bathed in gold, floating around the small room. It almost looks homely. I shake the thought out of my head, feeling across the bed for Prim, already knowing that she will not be there. I sigh, and force myself to move, to sit up so that I am not tempted to close my eyes again. It's harder to do than I'd expected, but I manage, rubbing circles in my eyes to get rid of the sleepiness that clouds my brain. It will not do to fall asleep in the woods, despite the protection offered by Gale's company. One of us cannot feed both of our families by ourself. This is why we are grateful that neither of us have been reaped. Yet. I tell myself that this is Gale's last reaping, that tomorrow he'll be safe. My mind is full of chaos though. Today is Prim's first reaping; I won't stop worrying about her for the next six years.
I step onto the cold wooden floor, feeling a chill run up my spine. Nothing will come of my dwelling on the new nightmares that this day could bring, I need to be strong for her. My head spins as I swallow down the bile forcing its way up my throat as it has done every morning now for three weeks. 'Since Prim started thrashing in her sleep.' I think to myself. My sister has always been a quiet sleeper, even in her nightmares, but since she turned twelve three weeks ago she's turned into a violent dreamer. I don't ask what she dreams about, but I'm glad she doesn't spurn my silent comfort, my awkward embraces in the middle of the night. It pains me to see her hurting, especially when there's nothing I can do.
I dress in silence, not wanting to wake my mother or Prim; see their blue eyes pleading with me to be careful, to come home to them. I'm the only hope of surviving that they've got. Once I've pulled on a shirt and some trousers I grab my father's hunting jacket, and tiptoe silently to find my game bag and my boots. The supple leather moulds to my feet as I slip from the house, disturbing nothing but the wind. I like this time of day, when no one is awake except me and the earth. I feel at peace in the few hours before the rest of the district stirs, as if there is only me, the lone inhabitant in a world of beauty. I'm glad when Gale joins me though; being alone too long means too much time to think about things I'd rather stayed in my past. Like memories of my father; how gentle he was, how much he taught me in such a short time. I don't like to dwell on it, so I'm always grateful when Gale turns up, his usual greeting of 'Morning Catnip.' stirring butterflies in places I didn't know they could be.
I feel them this morning when I reach the edge of the woods; Gale's already standing in the trees. He's well hidden from people who don't understand how the light falls in there, but I see him immediately, just as he'd intended me to. "Morning Catnip." I hear him whisper as I enter the trees, letting myself be engulfed by them. He grabs me gently around the waist, pulling me towards him. I let myself be taken into his strong arms, feel them wrapping around my small frame and bringing my closer with every tug. He tilts his head towards mine, looking at me with his gorgeous eyes, and smiling like he's got everything in the world to make him happy. I study every inch of his face, how his hair falls over his forehead in gentle waves; the freckles he's earned while hunting with me; scars from unfortunate encounters in the woods while we were struggling to keep our families alive. Then I look back at his eyes watching as he leans in closer, our foreheads almost touching, and kisses me tenderly. We've made this something of a ritual, something that we do every morning before we hunt. It's comforting, reminding us that we're not alone; but it's more than that. It's reminding each other that we'll always return, if only for that sweet morning kiss. Neither of us could bear to see the other reaped, it would only mean more suffering for our families; for ourselves.
He smiles again, and we start to walk through the undergrowth, bushes rustling as our feet brush against them. I wince at the noise we're making, my hunter's instincts urging me to quiet down. I remind myself that today won't be about that, today will be about checking traps and sitting by the lake, spending every possible moment together, just in case. I can't bring myself to think about what will happen later; what will I do if Gale is picked out of thousands. I wouldn't be able to keep both of our families supplied, although I'd do my best. I don't even want to imagine what I would do if Prim was chosen. Maybe I'd volunteer, to save her. I couldn't live knowing that she'd died because I didn't do everything I could to keep her alive. I shake my head gently, willing the thoughts to stop bombarding my mind; thoughts of how I'd cope if Prim died in the arena, and I let out a small sob.
At first I think he didn't hear me, I'm not even sure if I made the sound myself. Gale has exceptional hearing. He stops suddenly, turning his face to me. His expression is soft and caring, and I break down. He holds me as I cry, tears staining his shirt. Stroking my hair he whispers reassuring words into my ear, telling me how Prim has one slip in there, how she won't be chosen. I know he's right, Prim's chances are so slim, but it's still possible. He lets go, but keeps hold of my shoulders to steady me. "Catnip, stop thinking about it. Please? It's draining you. I don't think it's healthy babe." And so I stop, Gale's endearments filling my ears. I'm hurting myself by worrying too much. I should be focused on keeping Prim alive.
A/N - Once again I hope you liked it :-) Please review, it means the world to me to hear what you think about my writing.