I do not own THG.
A BIG THANK YOU to my amazing beta safe-always-real for all her encouragement and advice! :)
She is faintly aware of the sound of birds chirping outside her window.
Katniss grunts softly. She turns to her right, bringing the quilt closer to her as she does so. She snuggles into the warmth of her blanket, trying to drift back to sleep and continue her dream. But it's no use; she's awake now.
She opens her eyes groggily and blinks a few times. The clock on the nightstand shows Sat - 7:32am. Sitting up, she releases a loud yawn and stretches. Feeling satisfied, Katniss pads softly to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
She decides to check on Prim before going downstairs. Her sister is still sleeping. The polka-dotted blanket is strewn across the floor and she seems to have curled into a ball on the far edge of her bed. A small smile stretches across Katniss's face. Prim has always been a fitful sleeper.
Quietly, so as not to awaken her sister, Katniss lifts the blanket from the floor to cover her body. She then tucks the loose strands of Prim's hair behind her ears to prevent them from getting close to her drool. Katniss notices something tucked in Prim's arms. Judging from the slight tufts of artificial yellow fur peeking out, Katniss guesses that it's Buttercup, the stuffed cat toy their mother gave Prim for her fifth birthday.
Even to this day, she still thinks it's an ugly-looking thing; surely no child would want to cuddle with something as ugly as that. But Prim absolutely adores it. "I shall name you Buttercup!" Prim cooed to it when she first saw the toy.
Katniss is surprised to see Prim sleeping with Buttercup. Some time ago her sister had packed all of her soft toys into a box and stored them away, claiming that she was 'waaaaay too old to sleep with toys anymore'.
She adjusts the blanket around Prim to ensure she is fully covered before exiting the room. Katniss can hear her father's loud snores coming from his room across the hallway. He will be awake any moment now; he has a class to teach later in the morning. She goes downstairs.
The cool tiles on the kitchen floor feel nice against her bare feet. She butters a piece of toast while waiting for the pot of coffee to boil. Munching on her toast, she looks outside the window. 'The weather's nice, maybe I should go to the woods today.' It has been quite some time since she's visited the woods.
She hurriedly gulps down her cup of coffee before going upstairs to retrieve her things. She passes by her father's room; he's still sleeping. Back in the kitchen, she scrawls a message on the small whiteboard on the refrigerator door to let her family know where she's going:
Going to the woods. –Katniss
The woods. Her safe place. Her haven. Her keeper of happy childhood memories.
Katniss breathes in the earthy scent of the woods and basks in the sunlight penetrating through the canopy of trees. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Apart from the twittering birds and foraging squirrels, the sounds of dried leaves crunching under her boots are her only companion in the woods. She walks at a slow pace to admire the fall foliage. Fall is her favourite season. Leaves of different shades of yellow and red and orange can be seen on trees and are scattered around the forest floor. The whole view looks picturesque and breath-taking.
Katniss briefly remembers when they were younger, she and Prim would gather the fallen leaves and together they would pile them into a huge heap before diving into them like snow. Prim would sneakily dump leaves on Katniss when she wasn't looking, earning an angry shriek and a warning from Katniss threatening to do the same.
Their parents would watch in amusement as a determined Katniss chased a giggling Prim around until both of them were breathless from all the running. They would then run to their parents for water to quench their thirst, laughing at each other's red face ("You look like an ugly tomato, Katniss!"), their previous bickering forgotten.
Katniss smiles at the recollection. She reaches her usual spot, but decides to walk a little deeper into the woods after a moment of deliberation. She isn't afraid of getting lost in the woods; she knows her way around here. Her family used to come here all the time before the accident. A trip to the woods was always a treat for them. They used to come here for picnics. Hiking. Her father would teach Katniss and Prim archery (though Katniss was the quick learner, much to Prim's chagrin). Her mother would tell them the names of plants and ferns that piqued their interest.
Her mother.
Katniss's chest tightens a little at the memory of her mother. How she wishes that her mother was still alive, that the accident had not happened at all. The accident that had torn her family apart. The car crash had been more than three years ago. Her mother had died on spot while her father had been in a coma for two months, on top of losing his left leg. Nothing had ever been the same since.
They don't visit the woods together anymore. It's only Katniss who comes here now. Prim has lost interest in the woods as she has grown older. She claims that she's terrified of the insects there. Her father avoids it. The woods remind him too much of his late wife; the pain is impossible for him to bear.
The woods remind Katniss of her mother too. But unlike her father, she finds solace in the woods. It's the only place where she feels close to her mother, as if her mother's presence still lingers here.
She feels the tell-tale burning of her nose. "Get a grip, Katniss," she tells herself. She has been walking for quite some time now. She takes in her surroundings; she's already deep in the woods, almost reaching her destination. She walks for another full minute before she sees it: a small clearing in the middle of the forest, surrounded by the trees and shrubs. Their meadow.
On days when Prim felt that her legs were "capable for more walking", they went further into the woods, into the meadow. Here her mother would weave flowers into crowns that they would put on their heads, with Prim insisting that hers should be bigger and prettier than Katniss's. Katniss also remembers Prim running around the meadow, hoping to catch a butterfly or two with their father while Katniss would spend her time lying contentedly on her mother's lap. She had been so carefree and innocent back then, believing all things were good in the world, not a single worry bothering her. Her mother would pamper her by stroking her hair, humming 'Deep in the Meadow' as she did so. The sunlight shone on her mother's golden hair, and from Katniss's position it looked like a halo on her mother's head. Her mother looked ethereal and otherworldly, just like an angel. No, even angels couldn't compare. Katniss told her so. Her mother responded by pinching her nose affectionately. A dejected Prim then ran back to them, disappointed that she couldn't catch any butterflies.
"It's okay," her mother soothed Prim, giving her husband a loving smile as he followed behind his younger daughter. "There's always next time, right?"
But there hadn't been. Her parents' accident had happened a little more than a week after that perfect day. It was the last time they had gone to the woods as a complete family.
Katniss walks to the middle of the clearing. She finds a soft patch of grass to sit on. The crisp autumn air manages to invade her nose despite it being blocked a little. She welcomes it.
After making herself comfortable, she fishes out a novel from her bag. Carefully plucking her bookmark, she starts reading from where she's left off.
A slight breeze runs through the meadow. The grasses sway along gently following the direction of the breeze. Katniss closes her eyes, imagining it's her mother stroking her hair.
She must've dozed off.
Katniss opens her eyes to find herself lying on her back. All the drowsiness leaves her when she sees the novel propped on her chest, opened in half.
"Shit," she curses, immediately grabbing the novel and snapping it shut. She hastily examines the spine for any sign of creases, all the while berating herself for being so careless. She lets out a sigh of relief when she can't find any. "Sorry, sorry," she apologizes to the book, stroking its spine tenderly.
She checks the time; a few more minutes to eleven thirty. Her father's class ends at one in the afternoon. She debates whether to head home or visit her father. She decides on the latter. The archery center is nearer from this side of the woods, and she can catch a ride in her father's car when he goes home. With a renewed sense of purpose, she stuffs the novel into her bag and gets up.
She brushes away the stray bits of grass that cling to her.
Katniss turns around the bend and sees the huge sign 'Abernathy's Archery Academy' on a building not too far away. She spots her father's car in the parking lot. Entering the building, she greets the woman sitting at the front desk. "Hey, Cassandra."
"Katniss," recognition lights up the woman's eyes. She stacks up some of the promotional pamphlets she has been folding. "Haven't seen you since summer. How's my girl doing?" Katniss helps out with the younger classes each summer as a part time job.
"I'm good."
"Here to see your father?" Cassandra asks knowingly.
"Huh? Oh, yeah," Katniss replies distractedly, eyeing Cassandra's manicured nails as she runs her hand over the pamphlets to fold them. She briefly wonders at the amount of time and effort spent to draw those intricate floral patterns. 'No one has the time for that.'
"You need help?" she offers, nodding towards the stack of unfolded pamphlets.
Cassandra looks up, tucking a stray wisp of auburn hair behind her ear. "No, it's okay," she smiles appreciatively. "I got this." The telephone on the desk rings.
"Abernathy's Archery Academy, how may I help you?" she answers in her 'professional' voice.
Not wanting to bother the receptionist anymore, Katniss gestures her thumb to her right silently, indicating that she's heading to the range. She gets a small wave from Cassandra in return. She proceeds down the corridor leading to the range, which is located behind the building. Both sides of the corridor are filled with bulletin boards, most of them taped with clippings about the various achievements of students and the occasional interviews from newspapers and magazines.
There's also a board dedicated to the latest happenings of the academy. Katniss notices a new poster on that board congratulating the opening of the fourth branch of the archery center in another state.
She sees her father and his students on the far right side of the range. He has just finished demonstrating a technique. He then orders his students to follow his action. After correcting some of their mistakes, she hears her father announcing, "Okay people, take ten!"
A collection of clattering sounds could be heard as the students started removing their quivers and placing their bows on the bow stands before dispersing into the building, probably going to the bathroom. Some of them stayed, choosing to linger at the shelter in the range. Katniss watches her father shuffle over to the nearest bench in the shelter, rolling up the leg of his pants to reveal his prosthetic.
"Dad?" she approaches her father.
"Oh, Katniss. You're here." He looks a bit surprised to see her. She's not sure if he read her note about going to the woods, but either way he doesn't mention it.
"Yeah. Figured I'd drop by and see you. Then we could go home together…" she trails off. "Is it hurting you again?" she asks in concern, referring to his prosthetic.
"Nah, it just gets a bit uncomfortable after standing for such a long time," her father replies dismissively.
She only looks on as he adjusts his prosthetic slightly before rolling down his pant leg again.
Her father grabs a bottle of mineral water. He offers it to Katniss, who shakes her head. "Hey, want to go grab lunch at Sae's after I finish my class?" He unseals the cap and drinks from it.
"What about Prim?"
Her father swallows a few more gulps of water before answering. "Prim's at the Hawthornes'. She's spending her afternoon there," he says, referring to their neighbors and long-time family friends.
"Okay then. I'll meet you at the lobby at one?" The ten minute break was almost up; students were heading back to the range.
"Sure," her father agrees. "Coach, can you help me with my pin sight? It's gotten loose," one of his students calls out.
"Sure thing. I'll be there in a sec."
He gets up from the bench to attend to his student. "See you later," he says.
After helping Cassandra with her pamphlets, she retreats into that corner of the lobby where there are sofas and plush chairs available for people who are waiting.
Just as she is about to resume her reading, a gruff voice drawls, "My, my. Look who's here."
Katniss looks up to see the owner of Abernathy's Archery Academy wearing an amused look on his face. He plops himself onto one of the seats in front of her, taking out a flask from his jacket pocket.
"Uncle Haymitch? Why are you here?" she asks disbelievingly.
Haymitch Abernathy snorts. "Why am I here? Sweetheart… " He uses a tone which one would use to explain simple arithmetic to a young child. "I own this place." He takes a swig from the flask. She detects a faint whiff of whiskey.
Katniss rolls her eyes at his response. "Yeah, but we all know how often you show up here. Ten times a year, maybe?" she exaggerates.
"Which only serves as a statement that I'm an expert in hiring people who are experts in hiring people to run this academy. The less I show up, the less I'm complaining the shit out of everything and anything, and the more time I can spend drowning in the bliss this thing here offers." He swirls the flask in adoration. "They're happy, I'm happy, it's a win-win situation. I'm a genius, no? Must be the best employer ever," he mutters, taking another swig of liquor.
"Genius? Please," Katniss scoffs. "All that alcohol you've consumed has probably lowered your I.Q."
"Utter bullshit. My alcohol consumption certainly does not reduce the amount of wisdom I was born with," Haymitch taps his temple with his index finger. "If anything, it makes me smarter," he chuckles wryly.
"Whatever, Uncle Haymitch. You need to stop drinking. It's bad for your health," she advises him for the umpteenth time.
"Christ, you sound like Eric," Haymitch throws both of his hands up in the air. He mocks her father's voice. "'Stop drinking Haymitch! You're gonna just drop dead one day and I won't even have the time to attend your damn funeral!'"
Katniss looks unimpressed. "Seriously? I don't know how you and Dad became friends in high school. Both of you are exact opposites."
"Opposites attract, sweetheart. Haven't you heard?"
Katniss rolls her eyes. "Very funny. I can't possibly imagine how Dad tolerated your lame jokes for all these years. Or just you in general."
"Eh, he tolerated me all right," Haymitch chuckles. "Enough to let me be the best man at his wedding. And damn was I ever grateful for that, or else I would've never met my Maysilee," his expression turns into a longing one. He takes another mouthful from his flask.
"Oh. Umm…" Katniss tries to think of something to change the topic from his late wife. "Prim misses you," she blurts out.
"Of course she does. The little darling."
"Yeah, you should really drop by sometimes. It's been so long since we've had you over for dinner."
"I'm not sure about that, sweetheart," Haymitch scratches his stubble; it looks like he hasn't shaved for days. "Your dad's cooking gotten worse over the time."
"Hey," she throws one of the pillows on the couch at him. He dodges it in time. Both of them laugh.
"Listen," he clears his throat, getting serious. "I'm really sorry for not attending Prim's birthday party. Here, go and get her a few of those trashy teeny bopper albums." He takes out two Benjamin Franklins from his wallet. "Girls her age like those." He tries to stuff the money into Katniss's hands. She refuses to accept it.
"Uncle Haymitch! How many times do I have to tell you? I can't accept your money, we already owe you too much!"
Her family does owe Haymitch a lot. Everything that the insurance policy did not cover (her father's prosthetic, his rehabilitation bills), Haymitch paid for it. He also arranged their mother's funeral and looked after her and Prim throughout the entire ordeal. Not to mention that he held her father's position as an archery trainer at the academy for him to return to post-coma and rehab. Katniss still doesn't know the exact amount of money he had forked out ("You're nosy, sweetheart."), but she was sure it had been a lot. She shudders to imagine what would have happened to them without Haymitch's support. Even though Haymitch insists that they don't need to repay the money, her father tries to repay him as much as he can. Katniss helps her father by saving as much as she can, never spending her money on anything unless she absolutely has to.
"Relax, sweetheart. No one owes me anything. This is just a belated birthday gift from me to Prim, and that's that."
"No," she shakes her head firmly. "You should give it to her personally, then. Drop by our house, you're always welcome, you know that," she repeats her invitation from earlier on.
"Fine, fine," he grumbles, finally giving in. He crumples the notes and stuffs them back into his pocket.
"Gotta sign those damn documents now," he gets up from the couch. "Really, why can't they mail them to my house? I should probably hire someone to forge my signature…" he grouses.
"You want to join me and Dad for lunch later? We're going to Sae's," Katniss asks.
"Think I'll pass. Don't want to interrupt some emotional father and daughter bonding time. 'Sides," he shakes his flask, the sloshing sound of the liquor inside it suggesting that it's nearly empty, "I just had mine."
"Cass!" he calls his receptionist. "Those papers in my office?"
"Yes, Mr Abernathy. Do you still remember the way to your office? Or should I escort you there?" Cassandra asks sarcastically.
Haymitch guffaws. "Not sure why I hired you girl, but it's definitely wasn't for your sense of humor, or rather, the lack of it."
He turns back at Katniss. "Guess I'll see you when I see you, sweetheart."
"Quit shutting yourself in your fancy booze mansion!" she calls after him as he starts to walk to the entranceway leading to his office. "Remember to come visit us!" Haymitch waves back half-heartedly, as if to humor her.
Despite her frequent bickering with Haymitch, Katniss really cares for him deep down. The man had watched her and Prim grow up, and was so much more than just her father's best friend. Hell, he's practically her second father. She just wants him to know that here are people who still care about him. People like her, her father and Prim.
Katniss watches until his slightly hunched figure disappears down the corridor.
He looks so painfully alone.
She closes the novel with a thud and lets out a breath she doesn't know she has been holding. That's it. The end. Back to the real world, Katniss. She feels… lost? Empty? Bittersweet?
Bittersweet is the right word, she decides. Sad because the journey is over, but happy because everyone got the ending they deserved.
She lays spread eagle on her bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. The entire story plays out in her mind.
'So that's why she could escape from the dungeon; she wasn't the king's daughter after all,' she smacks her forehead. 'I should've realised that when Ewinda gave her the apple.'
"Gosh, Katniss, you're so slow," she says out loud, miffed that she hadn't noticed the plot twist—and the story's ending—sooner. But then again, she'd always been slow in noticing clues or hindsight in stories, only noticing the big picture when everything was revealed at the end.
She glances at the clock. A little after midnight. 'Whoa. That late already? Time really flies.' She sets an alarm for seven in the morning; she's going to start on her 10-page Chemistry report tomorrow—or today—depending on how one would view it. To her, tomorrow only starts when she wakes up.
Katniss feels a sense of dread whenever she thinks of her Chemistry report. It's due on Monday. She only has herself to blame; they had been given a month's start to finish it and yet she keeps finding excuses to procrastinate.
'Ten pages? It's nothing,' she consoles herself. 'I have more than twenty-four hours to write it. Besides, Madge will let me 'reference' hers,' she uses the term lightly. 'If she doesn't then our friendship is over. Or I could just write it in a really big font,' she starts to panic.
She eyes the report on her desk. She sighs. 'Might as well sleep now so I can wake up on time.'
She hears a soft knock on her door.
"Come in."
The door opens slightly and Prim pops her head in. "Katniss?" She asks hesitantly. "Am I disturbing you? I can't sleep, and I saw light coming from your room so I thought I…"
Katniss pats her bed. "Come here, Little Duck."
Prim crosses to her bed in two big strides and literally throws herself on it, the bed springs creaking under the sudden new weight. She lets out a delighted squeal which is quickly muffled, lest she awaken their sleeping father.
"You always do that."
"Sorry, your bed is so bouncy I just can't help it."
Prim rolls to her side. Katniss can see her clutching Buttercup.
"Get that thing away from my bed."
"You'll hurt his feelings. That 'thing' has a name: Buttercup. And why not?"
"Don't be silly. That thing is not even a real cat so stop acting like he's one. And to answer your question, : it's because it stinks."
"Does not!" Prim brings Buttercup to her nose and inhales it. "He smells nice."
'Nice? Either you're kidding or your olfactory nerve is damaged. That thing has never been through a single washing."
"That's why he smells nice! Here, smell him!" Prim pushes Buttercup into Katniss's face. She flinches in annoyance when the rough fur tickles her nose.
"Argh, geroff me! Ummmhh, Prim! Ugh," she finally wrestles the toy away from her sister. "And someone here tells me they're too old to sleep with stuffed toys anymore. I wonder who?" she hints playfully.
"No, it's just that…" Prim's shoulders sag. "I miss Mummy. Buttercup reminds me of her, that's why," she says in a small voice, cuddling Buttercup close to her.
"That's why you can't sleep tonight?" Katniss asks her in concern. Prim nods.
"You want to talk about it?" Another nod. "Brush my hair, Katniss?" she requests, smiling that smile that makes it impossible for Katniss—or any other person— to deny her anything.
Katniss takes a brush from her dresser. Prim sits cross-legged on the bed, waiting eagerly. Katniss then sits behind her sister.
She gathers all of Prim's hair from the front, careful not to leave any stray strands, and brings them to splay on her back. Her sister's blonde mane is a contrast to the black pyjamas she's wearing.
Katniss runs her fingers slowly through the blonde locks that Prim inherited from their mother, both in color and texture.
"Your hair is so soft," she admires. 'Would Peeta's hair be this soft?' a small voice in her head interrupts her train of thought.
'What? What does Peeta have to do with this?' She quickly shakes the random thought out of her head and concentrates on the task at hand.
She busies herself with the lower part of Prim's hair, gently working out the knots until they aren't tangled anymore. Prim starts to talk.
"Katniss, do you still remember Mummy?" she asks, twirling Buttercup in her hands.
"Of course I do," Katniss answers naturally. She doesn't question why in return, knowing that Prim has more to say. Instead, she gathers another small section of Prim's hair and begins to brush it.
"I find it so hard to remember her, Katniss. I try, really try to keep memories of her in my mind, but I just can't! They keep slipping away from me!" Prim blurts out, frustrated.
Katniss tries to interrupt Prim, but she doesn't stop. "I miss her so much but I need to look at her photos to remember what she looks like! Isn't that pathetic? And the other day I found out that I can't even remember what her voice sounds like anymore. I hate myself!" Prim breathes shakily.
Katniss stops brushing. "Prim," she says in a quiet voice, "Look at me."
Prim turns back to Katniss, her teary blue eyes desperately seeking reassurance.
"I don't want to forget," she sobs.
"You won't," Katniss comforts her. "Don't blame yourself Prim, you were still young when Mum left us. Barely eleven. You can't help it." She swallows the lump in her throat. "Besides, you know what they always say. You can't really forget someone as long as you still love them. You still love Mum, right? She will always be in here," she pats Prim's chest awkwardly.
Prim half-sobs in agreement, then bursts out in sudden laughter.
"What's wrong?" Katniss is alarmed by her sudden change in behavior.
"You've got it all wrong; the heart is on this side, not the side that you touched just now!" Prim doesn't try to suppress her laughter.
"It was a mistake!" Katniss says, embarrassed, but at the same time she's glad that Prim is feeling better.
Neither of them talks for the next few minutes as Katniss resumes brushing Prim's hair, massaging her scalp with the rounded bristles of the brush.
"There," she finally announces. "All sleek and shiny."
Prim shifts her sitting position so that she is facing Katniss. "Thank you," she says sincerely, "for both the brushing and the talk."
Katniss takes a good look at Prim: blonde hair, blue eyes and porcelain skin. She looks just like one of those perfect little china dolls that Katniss used to see in the toy shop display when she was younger. Pretty and delicate. Everything that she's not.
"Wish I were you, Little Duck," she states enviously.
"No. Wish I were you," Prim replies. "You're so strong and brave and caring, I only hope to be more like you."
"Strong? Caring? Are you sure you're talking about the right person?"
"Yup!" Prim stifles a yawn, unsuccessfully.
"Want to sleep in here with me?" Katniss fluffs another pillow on her bed.
Prim shakes her head. "It's okay, I can sleep on my own bed. You know I always kick around when I sleep," she smiles guiltily, clearly remembering all the times she had kicked Katniss in her sleep when they had sometimes shared a bed together.
"Okay then." Katniss is a bit disappointed. "Sleep tight, Little Duck."
"Sleep tight." Prim reaches the bedroom door, one hand holding Buttercup by its tail and the other hand resting on the door knob. "By the way, Katniss, you're only allowed to call me Little Duck within the perimeters of this house," she mocks in a playfully haughty tone. "Please don't ever call me that in public."
"Whatever, Little Duck. Quack quack!" Katniss hopes to annoy Prim with her answer, but her sister only smiles at her antics before closing the door softly behind her. She is surprised; normally Prim would reply in an equally childish manner and they would laugh about it afterwards.
'She's growing up,' Katniss reminds herself. 'You need to stop treating her like she's ten.'
Her Little Duck isn't so 'little' anymore.
She couldn't 'sleep tight' at all.
She tosses and turns in her bed before giving up to stare at the clock, whiling the time away.
'Go to sleep damnit. You have a report to do in a few hours. You need to sleep.'
Her body disagrees. She sits up in exasperation and turns on the lamp on the nightstand. She glances in the direction of her desk. The report sits there, taunting her.
She contemplates starting on it now, since sleep just won't come to her.
'No way. Who the hell wants to do their homework at three in the morning, anyway?'
Her sight falls on the laptop sitting beside the report. She eyes it deviously.
'Who knows? Maybe there are new chapter updates. Maybe I could sleep after reading.'
With this reasoning Katniss gleefully switches on her laptop. But to her disappointment there are no new updates. Not even any new stories. "Oh well, it's a small fandom after all," she consoles herself. The author 'Paint Me With Words' comes to her mind.
"I remember her telling me she's working on a new story. It's been almost two weeks…" she mumbles. She knows Paint Me With Words hasn't published her new story yet, because she would've gotten a notification from the site. Yet she's still curious about the author. Katniss has never visited her profile before.
A quick search brings her to Paint Me With Words' profile. They're from the same country. 'Probably even the same time zone, which means she's sleeping and there won't be any updates now,' she thinks sadly.
She looks at the introduction section; it is quite short, with only two sentences: I love to paint and write, hence my penname Paint Me With Words. Also, I think fanfiction is the next best thing since sliced bread.
Katniss giggles at the second sentence. She completely agrees with her.
She goes to the story section next. 'Yup, only two stories, not three.'
She absentmindedly refreshes the page a few times while dreading how she will have to try to sleep now, since there isn't anything new on the site to distract her.
Just when Katniss is about to close the browser, she notices a slight change in the story section; the list seems longer.
3. Real
Her heart soars and explodes into fireworks and confetti when she realizes it is a new story from Paint Me With Words. She is overjoyed. 'Is this really happening?'
She clicks on the link, her fingers trembling from excitement.
…and the look on her face when she climaxed was enough to send me over the edge. I collapsed on top of her, my arms giving in under the waves of pure bliss hitting me.
"Regina," I cried out when I came inside of her. It was intense, unlike anything I had experienced before.
I buried my face in the fan of her ebony hair, moaning her name over and over again. Like a prayer.
She caressed my back, her fingertips dancing lightly on my skin while I regained my breath, coming down from my high. Our bodies were flushed against each other's. We stayed that way for a moment, both of us basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking.
Afraid that my weight would crush her, I rolled to the side, my body already lamenting the momentary loss of the feel of her skin against mine. I rectified that by embracing her tightly.
I rested my chin on her head. She nuzzled into the expanse of my chest. A finger trailed tentatively across my chest.
Silence. Neither of us said anything, afraid of ruining the moment.
I love her, I really do. But does she feel the same about me? A part of me knows that she does; we have just given ourselves to each other in an act so intimate and sacred. But another part, the part that was tainted by them, the part that I have fought so hard to regain control over the months, tries to tell me otherwise.
Insecurities start to settle around me like the chilly morning fog.
She could sense the tension in my chest. "Vincent," she said, breaking the silence. She tilted her head upwards to look me in the eyes. Her gray orbs reflected passion and love and hope, everything our future together promises to be.
And suddenly, I felt foolish for doubting her. Of course she loves me. But I wanted to hear it. As a confirmation. Reassurance.
Armed with trepidation, I whispered, "You love me, real or not real?"
She smiled, that rare smile reserved for special occasions. I would never tire of her smile, even if it gets wrinkly when we grow old together.
She knew that I already knew her answer to my question, but she said it anyway.
"Real."
Katniss stares at the screen in total amazement. "Oh my god, they made love before the 'real or not real' moment." She claps a hand to her mouth. "Why, this is actually possible."
'I need a moment. Breathe in, breathe out.'
After she feels calm enough, she scrolls to the review section. Her fingers still on the keyboard. She doesn't know what to type. Anything she says is bound to sound silly and amateurish compared to the author's writing.
"Screw it, I was never good with words anyway," she decides, and types her review:
Okay, not gonna lie, I was totally stalking your profile this time. And then you published your new story. Coincidence or what? Haha. Anyway, I AM MINDBLOWN BY YOUR STORY. Wow. I mean, they make love before the 'real or not real' moment! It actually fits in the story, come to think of it. Gosh, why didn't I realize this earlier? I AM SO SLOW. WHY AM I ALWAYS THIS SLOW? THAT'S IT. THIS STORY IS OFFICIALLY MY HEADCANON ENDING. TGOF'S ENDING WILL NEVER BE THE SAME FOR ME AGAIN.
Review sent. Katniss decides to send a second one as an afterthought:
Oh, by the way, am I your first reviewer again? Sorry for the incoherent review, I'm not always like this. It's already 3am here but I can't sleep. Which explains the gibberish.
She rereads the story, savoring each and every little detail. An unexpected yawn escapes her. 'Finally,' she exhales, glad at the sign of her fatigue. Her eyelids are starting to get heavy too.
She is about to sign out of her account when Paint Me With Words replies:
Hey Sagittaria13!
Err, thanks for stalking? Haha just joking! Thanks for visiting my profile! It must have been your sixth sense telling you I was about to update. ;)
Wow, I'm extremely flattered to know that my story is your headcanon. I'm glad to know that you think the same too. Judging from the lines in the original story it's entirely plausible that they did much more than just making out, so I'm just expanding on that.
And no, you're not slow at all. In fact, you're quite fast in reading and reviewing! You're my first reviewer again! Thank you so much for your continuous support, it really means a lot to me.
PS: It's 3am here too, but I'll be going to bed soon. :D
PMWW
Katniss responds:
Guess I'll always be your first huh? That came out wrong, LOL. I'm finally tired, gonna sleep now. You should get your beauty sleep too.
Paint Me With Words' reply is fast:
Sagittaria13,
Beauty sleep? Okay, if you say so! Haha. Good night (even though it's technically morning, but still :P)
PMWW
She replies with a simple 'Good night!' and signs out.
She places her laptop carefully on the desk, deliberately ignoring the Chemistry report beside it. 'Why worry about it now when you'll have to worry in less than four hours?'
Katniss nestles her cheek onto a cool spot on her pillow. She slowly drifts off to sleep, her last thought being:
'Hell, if it was a report on fanfiction I'd be the first one to turn it in.'
Hello everyone!
Special thanks to EverlarkRecs for recommending my story! I died of happiness (but was resurrected by Finnick) when I found out lol.
THANK YOU to those who read/ reviewed (either on here or Tumblr)/ followed/ favorited this story. I also want to thank those who added me to their favorites list and author alert list. :)
ADHAKHSDJAASKDJHF THANK YOU! :')
Have a nice day!