A/N: Profanity Alert. Also, just a warning, this chapter has some awkward conversations. It's because Edward and Katniss have a deeper relationship than they thought. Thanks for reading; R&R!

I wake up from the land of thoughts to feel that the sheets are cold. Of course they are. They always are.
I roll over and realize that I'm most definitely not at home. Where the hell am I?
Oh; that's right. I volunteered. Why did I do that? What was I thinking?!
I toss back on my other side only to bolt upright; Katniss' face was right at the edge of my bed.
"What the-"
"You were making so much noise in here, I thought you were awake." I'm always awake. "So I thought I would come and talk to you about becoming allies." Her thoughts conveyed what her words wouldn't. Seb had realized she was awake, and had thought I would be too (which of course I was), so he had sent her to talk to me about allying in the arena.
He's tricky. But at least I get to talk to Katniss. Let's see if she'll admit he sent her.
"Seb sent you, didn't he," I whisper in an all-too-really pained voice. "You don't actually want to talk to me."
Her face turned panicked, and she gasped. "No, that's not it at all, I actually thought of it myself, you know, because who wants to spend time with someone who murdered children for a game?" she rushed out. Ah, that makes more sense. Seb seemed more of the brute type; I didn't think he would be planning allies this early before the Games. And she is telling the truth. I'm going to forgive her for something I wasn't even planning on holding against her. I must be really far gone. It's probably like that Imprint thing the wolves used to brag about... I wince, and she notices.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just realizing that my family didn't come to see me before we left," I make up on the spot.
"That's horrible," she whispers.
In reality it's because of the fact that my entire life is gone, once again impacted me out of the blue. But to ease my conscience, I tell myself that I'm not actually lying. They never did say goodbye. Oh, there's the pain again. I wince for the second time in as many decades.
"Well, then I'll go get dressed, and we can talk about this later," she says, and moments later she's gone.
I decide I might as well get ready too, because I'm never getting more sleep - or courage.
I don't think I can talk to Katniss about anything other than the Games. At least not yet. The things I do in the arena might need some explaining later. Hopefully with all the fancy pills and medicines the Capitol has, I can find someone that has a pill to help gain courage. I have the overwhelming urge to tell her that I'm a vampire.
I can't exactly do it in the arena, because then the entire nation of Panem will hear. I'll just have to find a time to tell her before then, when it's more private.
"Time to get up! We have another big, big, big day ahead!" knocks Tristy, who sounds like she's been drinking caffeine for 3 hours. I'm willing to bet that all the escorts are paid to be like that. Anyways, I can tell she wants us to hurry up. So I walk right out the door. After all, I was getting dressed, and now I'm done. Oh, I didn't realize that she was hoping I wouldn't walk out right away. My bad.
"Hello, Tristy, fine morning isn't it?" I ask, trying to make the conversation easier for her.
"Well, yes, but it depends, um, on what you consider, well, fine, I think," she finished uncertainly.
"Good point. Well, I'll be going to the dining car. We should be arriving shortly, correct?" I need to get away from the awkward conversation.
"Yes, that sounds right, well, I'll just, um, go check the schedule to make sure," she says, and scurries off. Phew.
I walk to the dining car, and sit down. There's not much I can do here. I recline in one of the chairs and wait for the rest of the group to join me. Barely seven minutes later (I counted), Katniss enters, and takes the chair right next to me, presumably so she doesn't have to sit by Seb. I'll take it; at least she's sitting by me.
"So," she says, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.
She's thinking about home, and her family. (A/N: The basic family is the same, just without Peeta in D4. Otherwise, her father died in a fishing accident, and she's had to support her mother and Prim.) Thankfully I've interacted with Prim before, when she was trading her goat's cheese in the market.
"Did your family say goodbye?" I ask softly.
"Prim came to see me. I had given her a pin to protect her, and she gave it back to me, to use as my district token." she says just as quietly.
"She's a sweetie," I say with a grin.
"Yeah, the whole district loves her. I don't know how she managed to get all our neighbors wrapped around her pinky; they're all so rude," she laughs. I can see that she's wondering why she's rambling with me. Time to change the subject.
"Have you tried the food yet?" Food in the Net was slim, especially after the Capitol started their obesity campaign; President Snow has been trying to cut down on their weight. (A/N: remember, in THG, I believe that it was mentioned that President Snow was quite old, so it makes sense that he would still be alive.) Ever since, the fishing rates in our district have been dropping.
"No, have you?" she asks, eyeing the spread hungrily.
"Yeah," I lie. "I think you'd like the toast." The second part was honest; I just haven't eaten and digested anything solid in, oh, about two centuries.
She picks up two pieces of bread as I direct her (toast is only for the Mayor and his family usually) and smears some butter on them with a butter knife. She eats one plain, then picks up a cinnamon shaker and sprinkles some of the brown powder onto her second piece of toast. She breathes in deeply before reading the label on the shaker.
"Mmm," she says, not realizing it. She takes a huge bite of the cinnamon toast, and starts to laugh, which means she starts choking and spewing cinnamon everywhere. I'm at her side in a nonexistent heartbeat, begging her to stop choking and say something coherent. That makes her laugh even more, which doesn't make sense, and eventually she has to stop and drink some water because her throat is dry. She's going to ask me how I moved so fast.
"Katniss, I haven't been completely honest with you. Well, but I wasn't lying, because it never really came up, so..." I realize I'm rambling, and stop talking. I'm still kneeling by her chair. "I need to tell you this before we get into the arena. I'm a-"
"So, is everyone ready for breakfast?" Tristy says, which would be a coincidence, except those don't exist. "Where's Seb? I'm going to lose my job one of these days, because of him!" She scurries off in search of the child-murderer. I'm not sure I should continue my previous attempt at explaining my situation to Katniss.
"What were you saying before?" she asks quietly.
I take a really deep breath. Force of habit.
"Katniss... I'm a vampire," I whisper. "I know you probably won't believe me. But it explains how I move so fast. And why I don't eat. And why my eyes change colors."
"What are you trying to do here? I don't even know what a vampire is, so how are you planning on exploiting me?" she says in a strained voice. That was a shock. I figured everyone knew what we were- no, what I am.
"Vampire, an abnormal being, commonly believed to be a reanimated corpse, that is said to suck the blood of sleeping persons at night. That is not what I am. I am a person trapped in a never-aging body, who drinks the blood of animals to stay alive. No blood courses through my veins. No heart beats, and no lungs fill with air. I can't eat because my stomach doesn't do anything, and none of my other organs work either. When one vampire bites a person, and lets the venom sink in instead of sipping it back out, another vampire is created. I drink the blood of animals so I don't starve and die. It's all true, and I've been alive since way before the end of America. And yes, America existed too; but it was destroyed in a series of very unfortunate events. Katniss, I'm a vampire." I sit perfectly still just to prove my point.
"Are you sure you're not just trying to trick me?"
"No. I'm absolutely positive. I was alive when Panem was created, even before the Dark Days. I've lived through all the Capitol's ploys, and the Hunger Games is the worst by far; believe me." I say, pleading with her.
"Alright. I believe you on one condition. You have to demonstrate your abilities to me."

It has been soooooooooooooo long. And that is my fault. But to ease the virtual pain, here's a 1,500 word chapter. Forgive me?
Thanks again for reading, R&R to let me know what you thought~!