Here's the next chapter! Enjoy! I do not own CF so any direct quotes will be in italics.


Ch. 7

"I'm not in the mood for a lecture." Katniss is sitting with her back facing the train. Her braid falls across her back and I can see the tenseness in her muscles. I don't think she expect it to be me.

"I'll try to keep it brief." I sit down next to her. I'm waiting for her to reject me, like she would back home, but she doesn't.

"I thought you were Haymitch." She shifts her weight slightly away from me, but she doesn't completely cut me out. We would have to talk sometime, I guess now is the time.

"No, he's still working on that muffin," Haymitch was hung-over today nibbling on little bits of a muffin. I finally get comfortable with my fake leg and turn towards her. No tears stain her cheeks, but I can tell she's only moments away. "Bad day, huh?" I take into consideration how horrible my day would be with out painting. I can usually only go one day with out a paint brush in my hand, I tend to get depressed if I don't. Maybe hunting is what releases those fears from Katniss, maybe that's all she needs. But maybe I can be the next best thing. Maybe she can let all her fear flow out of her mouth and into my ears, and maybe then they'll be gone. It probably wouldn't be as just like hunting, but it might be just enough. I know it would have an amazing effect on me.

"It's nothing," She doesn't accept my invitation, I didn't really expect her too. Maybe she needs to know that I don't want to feel bad for myself anymore. I want her to be my friend and if that leads to somewhere else, well let's just say I wouldn't mind it. But right now, I can see it, she needs a friend.

"Look, Katniss," It needs to start with an apology, maybe I hurt her too much. I shouldn't have been mad at her. I should have seen it, "I've been wanting to talk to you about the way I acted on the train. I mean, the last train. The one that brought us home. I knew you had something with Gale. I was jealous of him before I even officially met you. And it wasn't fair to hold you to anything that happened in the Games," I let the next words fall out easily, I mean them, "I'm sorry."

I've thought about it endlessly. On one side, there had to be something there, but when we got home she went right back to Gale. I know she denies to be anything there, the Capitol says they're cousins, but I know there is. You can't be that close to some one of the opposite sex and not feel at least a little something. I'd get if they had a relationship like siblings, but they don't. Of the little interactions I saw of them before the Games, I could see he at least felt something. I knew she had to too. But then there's all those hours in the cave, the moments of complete vulnerability. You don't have all that and have nothing form. It confused me so much, to no end, but in the end it all came down to what Katniss was thinking. And to Katniss it was all for the Games.

We sit in silence for a minute, letting the wind whistle across the tracks. The air making my words seem farther and farther away. Then finally Katniss lets out words I'd never expect her to say, "I'm sorry, too." She doesn't explain the meaning behind them or even why they slipped out of her mouth. I'm not sure she knows the exact reason why she either.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about. You were just keeping us alive," How was she supposed to know that I wasn't acting? "But I don't want us to go on like this, ignoring each other in real life and falling into the snow every time there's a camera around," It would be in every way too painful. I could not handle it, even if I did have a paint brush in my hand, "So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends," I could handle that, I couldn't handle the ignoring.

"Okay," That one word doesn't totally convince me that, that this is what she wants, but it's enough. She must need it too. At least just a little bit. Now that we can be friends, maybe she'll be comfortable.

"So, what's wrong?" She doesn't answer, she turns her head away and pulls out a weed. We aren't to that point yet. We need to start off with something else, something not so painful. Because if I was asked that question, the list would go on and on, I'm not sure it would ever stop. "Let's start with something more basic." We don't know simple things about each other, only the base of each other's fears. "Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine… but I don't know what your favorite color is?"

"Green," The tension of having to tell me what's wrong is gone, "What's yours?"

I have been introduced to so many different colors since I've started painting, but it's easy what my favorite is, "Orange."

"Orange? Like Effie's hair?" I think of the bright orange color Effie now has atop her head. My favorite color was nowhere close to that shade.

"A bit more muted," I try to think of what the color inside my head compares to, "More like… sunset." Since I've gotten home I've appreciated the moments inbetween day and night, so perfect, yet so eerily strange.

"You know everyone's been raving about your paintings. I feel bad I haven't seen them." I think over all the paintings I didn't bring, how perfectly they would describe these past months. How perfectly Katniss would understand how broken I am. But at least I did bring some, they won't explain completely, but they will, just a little.

"Well, I've got a whole train car full." I stand, offering out my hand, like any good friend would do, "Come on." Katniss' hand does more than she'll ever understand.

"I've got to apologize to Effie first."

"Don't be afraid to lay it on thick." And so we go, two broken victors trying to hold each other together.


I hope you liked it! Don't forget to REVIEW on the way out! Thanks! ~boywithbreadlover