Author's Note: A Snow-esque one-shot. He sure was a high-caliber creep. On that note, these characters and some of their dialogue do not belong to me, but I'll just be borrowing them for now. :) Enjoy!
Pull her aside and let yourself unfurl; show her just who's boss in this town. Arrive at her home and slip in like a shadow, a creeping vine made invincible by barbed wire thorns. Find out her weaknesses when you look into her mother's face, when you peer into her young sister's soul. Strike the fear into her eyes, bury her smoldering heart in ash.
You wait patiently for her return. She's out in the woods, you expect. She can't stay away, this she's proved time and time again.
She risks everything for survival. She's gotten her family through the worst with the help of the wilderness, filled their bellies with years of gatherings and game that rightly belonged to the Capitol. She's brave, defying the law in broad daylight, adding officials to her payroll one by one. And she's smart, that much can be said to her credit, but at the same time she's an idiot to believe that any of her actions, past or present, will not go unpunished. So naïve. Typical of Twelve, the most ignored and unwanted district. That is, until now. All because of her.
Your eyes sweep the decorated office, knowing that most of the materials here are not of Everdeen origin. There are frames without pictures, encyclopedias, the plush chair you make yourself comfortable in, and the elegant desk you rest your gloved hands upon. A few books on the shelves and some ink and paper are most likely all they would have had to bring for this room. Luckily for them it was already filled.
Her bewilderment is so apparent that you must keep yourself from laughing at it outright. As she entered you could almost feel her start, like a small tremor that rumbled toward you through the floorboards. However she manages to keep them just barely at bay, her emotions are not that hard to miss. She sits across from you politely.
"Let us agree not to lie to each other," you offer simply. She acquiesces. You make certain she will listen, and are completely honest about the stakes. Her immediate loved ones, including her "cousins", are expendable. Just as Seneca Crane was, the old fool. She gets the point. You funnel this into an explanation about her pathetic puppy-love theatrics and the fact that not all have fallen under the spell of Katniss and Peeta. The intended suicide was far from noble. It was treason, in the highest regard.
She seems a little surprised that her act was so transparent. She may be naïve, but she certainly isn't innocent. She played a game within your Games, and officially she may have won, but you are prepared to tip her hand by any means necessary. She will lose everything. If it were completely up to you, she would have been wiped from Panem months ago. It would have saved you every bit of trouble she is at the root of.
Mrs. Everdeen offers tea. Why, you'd be delighted to have some. It amuses you even more when the tray is brought in minutes later lined with frosted cookies and fancy cups. Things they never would have been able to afford in their old life, in their most elaborate dreams. Things that you hope they make the most of, for they may be missing them very soon.
It's then that she practically begs you to kill her. Publicly or perhaps through an arranged accident, she doesn't seem to care, just as she doesn't care about Peeta Mellark or the exact degree to which the citizens of the entire country have come to care about them. She contradicts herself as easily as she hits the mark with her arrows. Stupid, hypocritical girl.
You know very well that her excursions into the woods aren't strictly hunting ventures. No, not when you chose to monitor a possible rebel's every waking moment did you assume anything. You kept watching and waiting and eventually you turned up something so extremely valuable that now you can't let it go unnoticed. It's written all over her face as she thinks about it, but she's tragically unaware of your position, ready to strike down her platitudes of love for the poor baker's son.
"Please don't hurt Gale." The urgency in her voice is the first real thing you've heard come from her mouth since the beginning on the conversation. But you hardly consider it redeemable.
She's got her work cut out for her. She's no actress and you already know that she'll fail, so why give her the chance? You're far from kind and not even remotely generous. You suppose it may even do more harm than good, but the enjoyment of watching her struggle to win at yet another game will undoubtedly be worth it. All eyes will be on her and conveniently turned away from you. Besides, you never said that you were doing her any favors.
Though her skill with a bow is nothing to be discounted, you tell her to aim even higher. The confusion that clouds her expression is priceless, a true break in the tough front she's tried to maintain throughout your little meeting.
"Convince me," you tell her. And finally, she gets it. You take in the last of your tea to hide a smile. How this daft girl ever managed to win the hearts of the people isn't exactly a mystery, but there's no way she could ever make a grab for what's left of yours. Hopefully she'll die trying.
You rise to leave, ensuring the white rose in your jacket lapel is secure and straightening the cuffs of your sleeves. She refuses to look at you, her brain hard at work, most likely shooting off in all different directions but coming back to one conclusion. She thinks she can kill you and the thought entertains you so much that you feel the sores in your mouth ache with laughter.
Before you step too far, you lean down and confide in her, "I know about the kiss." As you disappear out the door, you imagine that her blood has frozen in her veins and that her world has come to a screeching halt. If only your words were enough to literally knock her dead. Ah, but there will be a time and a place for that. The things most wanted often come to those who wait.
