Polished
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games and character all belong to Suzanne Collins.
Please review? :)
He brings his hands up to his neck, straightens the collar of his crisp white shirt. He watches his own meticulous fingers in the mirror tying the black bow tie as if they're not his own.
The man in the glass is striking. His Seam skin is dark and smooth, his deep brown hair slicked back with gel. Tall, muscular, and lean, he looks roughed up, but put together. It's as if he's scrubbed away all the guilt on his skin, all the ashes that lingered from the war. It feels wrong to look so polished and clean, so shiny and pretty.
He almost feels like a tool.
Another year, another gala remembering the war. In the newly refurbished Capitol, all contributors of the war are invited to attend. Gale always goes, dressing up every year. But she never does.
He looks at his own fingers in the mirror. They're long, great for weaving traps.
He misses hunting. He misses running through the forest like it's his second home. He misses the way he and Katniss used to be - no Peeta, no Games, no rebels. He misses selling game at the Hob, the feeling of just being another poor kid with a grudge against the Capitol.
Every time he thinks about the war, he wonders what would have happened if Katniss wasn't in the Games. If she didn't fall in love with Peeta, if she didn't pull out those berries to save their skins only to end up igniting a nation on fire.
If Katniss was never in the Games, she could have been his. There would have been no war. There would have been no boy with the bread to take her away from him. Mentally, he scolds himself. It's so hard to hate someone so good. Even after the hijacking, Peeta's much more of a golden boy than he is.
He gathers himself, and his thoughts, and heads out of his swanky apartment in District Two. He's about to set off for the Capitol when the phone rings.
His phone rings a lot, but Gale almost never picks up. It's usually about work, and he figures people can wait a couple of hours until he clocks in to talk to him. But everyone he works with is probably on their way to the gala, so whatever it is must be important.
Reluctantly, he takes the phone off the cradle and pressed the button. He listens for a moment, then says: "Katniss?"