Chapter Title: Green Eyes

Pairings/Characters: Cinna/Katniss.

Rating: T for minor suggestive adult themes.

Warnings: Possible OOCness. AU. Katniss' fellow tribute was just some random guy, not Peeta.

Notes: Takes place during the Games, a few years after Katniss wins.

Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games trilogy. I am not Suzanne Collins.

Also, thanks to the people who favourited this story or put it on alert, and special thanks to KatnissMellark12, anonymous person, Howlynn and tipsyapple for reviewing last chapter!


If You Burn

Two – Green Eyes

She watches Cinna as he sketches. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows. One hand in his hair, the other gripping the pencil that is whizzing across the paper. His brow furrowed in concentration. And his eyes.

Green has been her favorite color for as long as she can remember—but not just any shade of green. The dark green of the leaves on the trees beyond the fence, the trees in District 12's forest, her safe haven.

That has changed, she realizes now as she studies Cinna's eyes. She has a new favorite shade of green. A gentler green, like granny smith apples, with flecks of gold. Not even Finnick Odair's famous sea green orbs can compare.

Because Cinna is her safe haven now. His arms are her shelter, his kisses her release. He is everything she never knew she wanted.

He is also the single most frustrating person she has ever known when it comes to his obsessive-compulsive need to design when he should really be sleeping. It's two o'clock in the morning and he is still working on Wren's victory dress, or possibly her shroud. (It pains Katniss to admit it, but it will most likely be her shroud. Thirteen year olds hardly ever win the Games.) Never mind that it's only two days after Opening Ceremonies and most of the other stylists are probably still rushing to finish their tribute's interview dress, which Cinna completed the night of the Reaping.

He's so focused on his task that he doesn't even notice when she slips out of bed and steps up right behind his chair. Her long, loose hair spills onto his shoulder, but he doesn't turn to look at her until she reaches around him and plucks the pencil from his slim fingers. He looks startled when he says, I thought you were asleep.

She twirls the pencil around her thumb. Then she leans down, her cheek brushing against his, and grabs a crumpled piece of paper—bearing a failed attempt at Wren's dress that Katniss can't find anything wrong with—from his desk. On the back of it she writes: I was. Your constant pencil scratching woke me up. It's late; you should get some rest. She puts the pencil down on the desk and hands him the paper.

After he reads it, he gives her a quiet apology, a light kiss on her temple, and a vague smile that tells her he's not going to follow her advice. Sure enough, he turns back to his latest design and picks up his pencil, probably assuming that she'll just go back to sleep.

Katniss straightens up and narrows her eyes at Cinna, her lips pursed, contemplating her next move. Effie's advice would be to remind him that they have a 'big, big, big day!' tomorrow. Haymitch would recommend she offer him a drink. Johanna would tell her to knock him unconscious. Finnick would suggest she seduce him.

The last option is the only one she would even consider trying. She could lean back down, touch her lips to his neck, undo the zipper of his pants and slip her hand in, drive him mad with desire until he has no choice but to come to bed with her.

Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), Katniss has a much simpler way of getting him to do what she wants. She steals Cinna's pencil again and, ignoring the half surprised-half slightly annoyed expression on his face, writes down three words which she then underlines.

When she hands him the paper this time, he stares at it for an excruciatingly long moment and says nothing. Finally, he takes his pencil back and writes down a reply. Katniss smiles when she sees the words I love you too. Cinna drops his pencil onto the desk, closes his sketchbook, pushes his chair back and stands up.

And then he takes her hand and pulls her toward the bed, the spark of mischief in his green eyes telling her that they probably won't be getting much sleep tonight anyways.


Author's Note: Very short, very fluffy. Maybe next time I'll try angst. Reviews are appreciated.