Disclaimer: As much as I wish they were mine, all characters belong to Suzanne Collins. I own nothing. A hint of Katniss/Peeta in this one – hope it hasn't happened too fast! Reviews would be lovely, because I have no idea how I'm doing...
I hadn't seen her in a week.
Preparations for Finnick and Annie's wedding took place in that time because she, at least, had adjusted well to being in 13. It didn't take long - Annie returned to herself as soon as she heard his voice. The mere sight of them dragged my heart into my throat; seeing my dreams played out from an untouchable distance felt as if some higher power had decided to spit on me from the heavens. Worse than that, I couldn't help but feel happy for them - nobody could. Even with the revolution on the brink of failure, with the Sword of Damocles dangling on its tenuous thread, happiness was possible. Love triumphed in the darkest of places, and hope, however hard we tried to ignore it, could not be extinguished in the light of their presence.
Haymitch told me that I was to frost the cake. He hadn't quite forgiven me for my breakdown yet and we both knew it was better to stay occupied than give in to the gathering shadow. Mrs Everdeen threw herself into being a full-time healer these days and I began to wonder if it was because she, like my own mother last year, had already grieved her child despite the fact that both our hearts were still beating.
The girl on fire had become a burned out shell.
I was forbidden from seeing Katniss until "further notice"; an indefinite sentence for my foolish behaviour. Prim was given clearance to see her most days in order to answer her questions and assist the consolidation of her memory. She told me about a game she'd invented to help. It was called "Real or Not Real", and allowed Katniss to recall a series of events and for Prim to explain the motivations of those involved. Her innocence and faith in humanity were working better than any anti-venom. She told me that Katniss had made some big improvements but I was unsure if this was a real observation or something that we both wanted to believe. Nevertheless, I tried to give her a real smile that didn't resemble a grimace, and hugged her small frame close whenever she opened her arms towards me.
Now, leaning against the back wall of the make-shift registry, I waited.
A couple of the soldiers had cameras, which increased the feeling of uneasiness that had settled in my stomach. Coin had allowed the wedding so that it could be recorded for a short propaganda film to be snuck onto every screen in Panem, coupled with footage from a recent hospital visit that Gale organised. It had had turned into a raid and the hospital was bombed. The uprising was beginning. All they were missing was a Mockingjay.
I was dressed in the finest clothes that I had available, and I had to suppress the memories of the 74th victory tour as I surveyed the crowded room. I noticed Haymitch sitting not too far away, and decided to make my way over. He caught my eye as I approached, and his gaze held understanding as he took a swig from a hip-flask he'd concealed in his jacket pocket.
"I know," he said.
It was all that needed to be said. I sat beside him as the wedding commenced. Naturally it was a small service; the guests consisted mainly of soldiers befriended by Finnick and a few of the tributes that were rescued after the Quarter Quell. Katniss, however, was nowhere to be seen. Plain metal rings had been exchanged and were followed by kisses and applause, after which we were invited to follow the couple through to the dining hall for a reception.
It was then that I saw her. She stood by a small table positioned against the opposite wall; her back was towards us and her hair was in the intricate braids that I recognised from the reaping. She wore a mid-length, pale yellow sun-dress and some plain black shoes. Haymitch nudged me forwards once he recognised the direction of my attention, and after a reassuring glance from Finnick, I walked towards her.
She must have known of my approach; I was never soft enough in my footfalls and my shoes quietly slapped against the floorboards, yet she did not turn towards me. She was within arms' length when I realised what held her vision so intently. Her delicate fingers were curled around a small frosted flower that she had plucked from the wedding cake.
"Dandelions," she said, "you made little dandelions." She sounded as if her mind was far away, and I almost placed a hand on her shoulder before I remembered that I shouldn't.
"Yes," I said, "Annie's favourite colour is yellow, so Prim suggested them to me."
She continued to look down as she spoke. "She told me she talks to you. She trusts you."
"I'm glad," I replied, and smiled tentatively at her. The corners of her mouth quirked briefly, but her eyes remained guarded as she turned to face me.
"You don't look like a victor," she decided. "You're not particularly big or anything – It's just that I'm smaller than you."
I shrug because there's not really a response to this. I don't want anyone to think I look like a killer. "I'm only alive because of Haymitch."
She picked up on the deviation from the nonchalant tone I had tried to keep. "You wanted him to choose me. Real or not real?"
"Real," I said, "I made him promise he would. He just... didn't."
She watched me frown. "You must have loved me a lot," she said.
My heart broke for her. It broke for the whisper of emotion that she can't quite recall, for every kiss that's been stolen from us, for the nightmares that bait us both until we wake to find that they're real... "I do." My voice cracked and I didn't bother trying to hide it.
She looked at her shoes. Her hands started to shake and her breathing got a little louder, but she stayed put. Prim must have been watching because she seemed to appear out of nowhere to take Katniss' hand, pulling her sister out of her reverie. "I hope you're being nice to Peeta," she said, and she flashed me a smile.
Katniss looked up at her with pleading eyes, "Prim..."
"No, Katniss, I've told you. All he's ever done has been to help you. I trust him. If you don't trust him then it means you don't trust me either." With that, she took my hand and placed Katniss' in my open palm before either of us could object.
Katniss shuddered once, violently, and her eyes grew wide. I opened my hand to drop hers, when she clamped down on it hard and slowly closed her eyes. All I could do was watch her eyelashes flutter lightly as she took a deep breath, trying her hardest to remember my touch as safety and familiarity. At that moment, Johanna brushed past Katniss on her way to the food and winked at her when her head whipped round to check the disturbance.
"Knew you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to let Snow see you dancing." She smirked as she gestured towards the cameras with a nod of her head and then continued on her way. Prim looked at the pair of us, gave me an encouraging pat on the arm, and bounced along to follow Johanna's path.
Katniss looked at our currently entwined hands, and proceeded to search my eyes. Whatever she found there must have confirmed her decision to stay; she took a step closer. I could smell soap and flowers, and a kind of woody scent that belonged to her alone. She seemed determined to surprise me at every turn, and her next words did just that: "One more time? For the audience?" She must have known I would remember them from the train home after our first games. Her gaze reflected the hollow feeling that saturated my voice that day. I saw her eyes change then, and watched her muster her courage for what felt like the thousandth time. She silently reached to place my other hand on her hip and led us towards the other dancing couples.
She kept enough distance that she could keep her eyes locked with mine at all times as we waltzed in small circles. I knew she probably still didn't trust me, perhaps she didn't even like me, but she was here regardless. That was all that mattered. She was holding my hand and smiling a small smile, and even though I knew it wasn't for me, for a moment I was almost able to pretend that the hijacking hadn't happened. We were reincarnated, the star-crossed lovers, from the ashes of her blaze.
The music drew to a close and we stilled, making my heartbeat thump yet more loudly in my ears. She dropped her hands and took a step back so that mine too fell limply by my sides. They already ached in her absence.
"You tried to stop me getting you the medicine from the cornucopia," she said, "I had to drug you so I could go. I saved your life. I saved your life because you were the reason I was alive to do it... I know that... But I don't know you. Baker. Painter. Killer. Liar. Friend. Ally. Lover. Mutt. I don't know which are real. I don't know who you are. And I don't know what I am..."
I tried to keep quiet and just let her say what she wanted to say, but the words came flowing through me before I could stop them: "You're a hunter and a strategist. Your favourite colour is green. You got your sister a goat for her birthday. You always have sugar in your tea, and when you sing... even the birds stop to listen."
A single tear dropped from the bottom of her lashes and began to curve over her cheek.
I turned on my heel and fled before I could do something stupid like kiss her.