(A/N): I'm glad you all enjoyed the last chapter and the twist I made. Here is the next one, I hope you enjoy it just as much and now the story has taken its own.
Chapter 7: The Hunger Games.
Peeta's beet root face is plastered on the screens for a second and then the cameras turn to me. My mouth is hanging open, I am on the edge of my seat and I am blushing just as red as Peeta. Does Peeta really mean what he said? Or is he just saying that to get more of an effect? For a second, my thoughts go over our time together. Our friendship that had grown over these few days, the jacket he wrapped around me, the hugs we exchanged, the hand holding, him comforting me and us sleeping in each others arms. It's not an act. He likes me – maybe even loves me and now we're going into an arena, where only one of us can come away alive. And it will be him.
The crowd are cheering – some are crying for our forbidden love. I can feel the tears build up in my eyes, but I don't dare let them fall. "Oh, that is a piece of bad luck," says Caesar and the pain is real in his voice. The crowd murmur in agreement with him.
"It's not good." Agrees Peeta.
"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady," says Caesar. "She didn't know?"
Peeta shakes his head. "Not until now."
"And did you know about her?" He asks and Peeta shakes his head, the pain clear on his face. My heart squeezes and I look up at the screens to see my reflection of Peeta's pain. I can see Peeta is trying not to cry, and the audience can see. They're calling his name and crying for him. "Well, best of luck Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak with Panem when I say our hearts go to yours and Katniss's."
The crowds are clapping, stomping, cheering and crying for us. We have completely taken over the show, our love making them forget about the over tributes. Peeta lets out a small "thank you." And then goes back to his seat. Forgetting the crowd, I stand up for a second and hug him, burying my head in his neck and then we sit down. Our embrace was shown on the cameras, the citizens of the Capitol are sobbing for us. The anthem is played. The cameras stay on us, the tragic lovers from district 12.
It's just me and Peeta in the elevator. The crowds are holding the others back. We wait in silent, not knowing what to say. Nothing can be said, nothing that can fix this or make things work. The doors open and I hug Peeta for a second, whispering in his ear. "Please, wait for me tomorrow. Promise me you won't leave me." I can't let him out of my sight, he needs to stay with me if I'm going to keep him alive. I don't want to go looking for him, wondering if every cannon is him.
"I won't. I promise." He says, holding me closer. We stand like that, embracing, my head on his shoulder and his hand running along my back, then playing with the strands of my hair that have fallen free. It's only when the ping of the elevator comes that we separate.
Effie, Haymitch, Cinna and Portia are standing in silence, watching us. I'm shocked to see that Effie's eyes are red, was she crying? General looks of sympathy flash on their faces.
"Oh, my two pearls!" Effie cries. "How the Capitol adore you."
"Yes, you've already got sponsors lining up." Haymitch says, nodding his head in approval.
No one seems to know what to say. The turn of events have left a sadness amongst us and I hate it. This is why I didn't want anyone to know, I didn't want any of this, I just wanted to save Peeta. Now I feel bad knowing how Peeta feels, knowing that he will have to go on living with my death, just like how I couldn't imagine surviving without him. I hate this. I hate the Capitol. I hate the Hunger Games.
"I'm going to bed." I say and walk down the hallway. When I know no one follows me, I let the tears fall. Joining the Capitol and their cries for the forbidden love in district 12. I close the door behind me, letting all the anger and emotions free from its cage. A lamp is thrown across the room. This time it isn't Peeta who cleans up the mess, but the read-headed Avox girl comes in and helps me. Seeing her adds to the guilt.
"I should have tried to save you," I whisper.
She shakes her head, concentrating on picking up the small pieces of the lamp that smashed. Her hands are shaking.
"No, it was wrong." I say. She taps her lips to her fingers and the points to my chest. I think she's telling me that I would have become an Avox, too. Probably that or dead. Instead of Peeta tucking me in, she does. It's a strange thing to do but I smile my thanks. She leaves after that.
I can't sleep. I'm too overwhelmed and anxious about tomorrow. My time is slipping through my fingers like sand. Prim flashes through my mind, I wonder how she reacted to the interview. Is she crying that she knows I won't try to win? Or is she tossing in her sleep worried about me? I never wanted to hurt her – always wanted to protect her, but I know with Gale and the others in district 12, she will be safe. I'm sure Peeta will go home and check on her for me.
I then feel bad for leaving so suddenly. I didn't say goodbye to Effie or Haymitch, didn't thank them for all the work they did. Instead I was to wound up in my feelings to realize that this was the end. It's too late now, dinner would be finished and everyone would be heading to bed. Instead I decide to write a few notes for them, thanking them, and telling Haymitch to save Peeta. I leave them on the dining room table, telling an Avox they're there for them. He nods his head, a promise that they will get them.
Haymitch comes in, a bottle in his hand. "What are you still doing up?" He asks.
"I couldn't sleep and I never got to say goodbye." I say.
"So you left love notes? Shouldn't you be leaving those for Peeta?" He questions.
"I could always rip yours up." I tell him.
"I'll make sure Effie gets hers." He tells me.
"Thank you."
"Katniss, I am sorry. But I promise I'll keep him alive." He says.
"Thank you." I whisper. I know he will keep that promise.
"I know it's going to be hard for you and him. But let the audience see." He tells me, meaning we need to show more of our feelings towards each other.
"I hate this." I whisper.
"You and I both." He takes a sip of his bottle, turning to leave the room. "Katniss, one last thing. I told Peeta this, too. Stay alive." He wobbles out of the room and I hope he is sober enough tomorrow to deal with all our sponsors.
I don't want to go back to bed. I don't want to give in to my thoughts and nightmares. The stars and the moon are calling for me. Just one last night under them, without the threat of anyone hunting me. The roof is cold, I'm glad I brought a jacket out with me this time. Chaos surrounds the city, cars honking, people screaming and cheering. Somewhere I hear my name being called. Peeta is standing out by the edge of the roof, the moon illuminating him and the city surrounding him. I stop for a second to admire him, how calm and peaceful he looks when tomorrow is close. He has been trying to sleep as his hair is a mess, making me want to run my hand through it.
My bare feet move soundlessly across the tiles, each step is icy cold. "You should be getting some sleep." I tell him.
He starts, not noticing me behind him, shaking his head slightly. "I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all," he says.
I stand next to him, looking bellow to where the tiny people in bright costumes dance in the dark night. "Are they in costumes?"
"Who could tell?" Peeta answers. "With all the crazy clothes they wear here. Couldn't sleep, either?"
"Couldn't turn my mind of," I say.
"Thinking about your family?" He asks.
"Yes. And tomorrow. And… you." I say. He knows, so there isn't much point hiding it. We both know there's no point in anything.
"Thinking of your grand way to save me?" he asks. "I know, Katniss. You'd do anything to protect the people you love. You volunteered for your sister. But don't you think I want to save you, as well?"
"It has to be you," I say.
"Were see." He says.
"Peeta…" I groan. I defiantly didn't want this to happen.
"No. If anyone deserves to walk away from this, it's you, Katniss." He pleads.
"Don't." I tell him and rest my head on his shoulder again. We look out, watching the city.
"I've never been a contender in these Games anyway." He says and hesitates before putting his arm around me. This is our last time of privacy, just the two of us, before the Games begin and he goes home without me.
"That's no way to be thinking," I tell him. Resting my forehead against his neck.
"Why not? It's true. My best hope is not to disgrace myself and…" he hesitates, knowing I don't want to hear those words from his mouth. He isn't going to die. I won't allow it.
"Don't." I warn him.
"I want to die myself, Katniss." He turns his head, to rest his forehead against the top of my head. His breath is hot on my face. "Does that makes sense?" I don't answer, I don't want to talk about this. He continues. "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster I'm not."
He tugs at my heart. "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?" I ask.
"No, when the time comes I'm sure I'll kill just like anyone else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to… to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their games." Says Peeta.
"But you're not." I say. "None of us are. That's how the Games work."
"OK, but within that framework, there's still you, there's still me," he insists, "don't you see?"
"A little. But stop." I tell him. I bury face into his neck, wishing he wouldn't lose hope in his survival – wishing that he would allow me to save him, but I understand why he doesn't because he is doing exactly what I am doing. And I know that I am going to go in pain, knowing that we both know there is no future for us, but creating our romance to help each other win, but only one of us can win. And I hate how the audience are going to be watching us – wanting to see our love story. Just so we can get sponsors.
"You will go home, be with your family and your friend." He tells me.
I pull back, looking up at him. "No. I won't let you die." I tell him.
"Do you think I can let you die?" He asks, getting frustrated now. I kiss him. I forget everything for a second and just bring him down to me. He doesn't resist and we're a hot mess. My hands find their way in his hair and his hands pull me closer. This is our first kiss, this is our goodbye kiss before the cameras turn up. And it is burning. The pain of the guilt, burns. The pain of the future we will never have, burns. And how he has given up, burns.
"You know what I hate most of all, other than your stubbornness to dying?" He questions me, putting his forehead against mine. We're both panting, the fire taking the oxygen away from us.
"What?" I ask him.
"How out of thousands of slips it had to be your sister's name and mine." He says.
"The odds were never in our favour," I say and he sighs in agreement.
"You should get some sleep," he tells me, kissing the top of my head.
"Will you stay with me?" I ask. I don't want to be alone to deal with all my thoughts.
He nods his head. Together we go down to my room, quietly, not waking anyone up or having Haymitch find us. He lays down on my bed and I lay in his arms, like two perfect matching puzzle pieces. We're silent, staring in the darkness with the warmth of our bodies pressed together. He plays with my hair, soothing me to a dreamless sleep.
Peeta gently places me on the mattress below him, bringing the covers up over me. I don't open my eyes because I can't deal with the thought of saying goodbye, knowing the next time we will see each other will be in the arena. Instead I pretend I'm still asleep. "I'll see you soon," he whispers and kisses the top of my head, gently tracing his fingers across my cheek. He leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.
Cinna comes for me in the morning, preparing me with an outfit and then we make our way to the roof. I take one last look around the city – later the streets will be full with cheers as the tributes kill each other off. A hovercraft appears, reminding me of the one that captured the redheaded girl, and a ladder appears. I place my hands and feet on the lower rungs, and then I am frozen. I'm lifted up, stuck in place with some sort of glue. Caring about our safety, again.
When I'm on the hovercraft a women appears in a white coat and a syringe in her hand. "This is just your tracker, Katniss. The stiller you are, the more efficiently I can place it." She says.
I can't move anyway. She breaks my skin with the needle, sending a sharp pain up my arm. The tracker is placed deep inside my arm. I'll be followed by the Gamemaker's now, they wouldn't want to lose a tribute.
The ladder realised me when the tracker is in place and then the women disappears. Cinna is then retrieved from the roof and an Avox boy directs us to a room, where breakfast is being served. My stomach is twisting with nerves, but I try to eat as much as I can. I eat while looking out of the window, envying the birds who are free. Soon, the windows black out, telling us we're near the arena. I wonder where we are. The hovercraft lands and Cinna and I are back on the ladder, being lead down into a tube underground. We are instructed where to go – to the launch room they call it. In District 12 we referred it as the stockyard, where animals go before slaughtered.
I shower and clean my teeth, ignoring how my breakfast threatens to come up. Cinna does my hair in my trademark braid going down my back and then the clothes arrive. He had no say in these outfits, these are provided to suit the arena we will be in. He helps me get dressed in the undergarments, simple tawny trousers, light green blouse, sturdy brown belt and thin, hooded black jacket that falls to my thighs. "The material in the jacket is designed to reflect body heat. Expect some cold nights." He says.
I then put skintight socks on, followed by the boots. The boots are made out of soft leather, with a narrow flexible rubber sole with threads, though. Good for running. I think I'm ready when Cinna pulls the gold Mockingjay pin from his pocket. I had completely forgotten about Madge's gift.
"Where did you get that?" I ask.
"Off the green outfit you wore on the train," he says, reminding me of when I pinned it to the green shirt. "It's your district token, right?" I nod and he pins it onto my shirt. "It barely cleared the review bored. Some thought the pin could be used as a weapon, giving you an unfair advantage. But eventually, they let it through," says Cinna. "They eliminated a ring from that District 1 girl, though. If you twisted the gemstone, a spike popped out. A poisoned one. She claimed she had no knowledge the ring transformed and there was no way to prove that she did. But she lost her token. There, you're all set. Move around. Make sure everything feels comfortable.
I move around, testing the outfit. "Yes, it's fine. Fits perfectly."
"Then there's nothing to do but wait for the call," says Cinna. "Unless you think you can eat anymore?"
I deny the food but accept a glass of water, taking small nervous sips as we wait on the couch. After, the nerves take over and I'm starting to gnaw on the inside of my cheek, trying to avoid biting my lip or nails. I don't want my terror to be obvious in the arena. I'm more nervous about Peeta. The terror of losing him in an hour, a day or a week scares me. I can't let that happen. I don't want him to see me die in a violent way, either. The thought of him having to cope with that for the rest of his life is horrible. My fingers circle the tracker, pressing on it until a small bruise appears.
"Do you want to talk, Katniss?" Cinna asks.
I shake my head and hold my hand out for him, he takes it in both hands. We sit in silence, the granules of sand getting slimmer as they fall through my hands. A women's voice announces it's time.
I'm still clutching Cinna's hand as we walk to the metal plate that will take me up to the arena. "Remember, run and then find water. The rest will follow," he says. I nod. "And remember this. I'm not allowed to bet, but if I could, my money would be on you."
"Truly?" I ask. He squeezes my hand gently, a sign that he knows that I don't plan on winning.
"Truly." He says, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "Good luck, girl on fire." A glass cylinder then slowly lowers around me, separating us. He taps a finger under his chin and I lift my head higher. The cylinder begins to rise, for a while I'm surrounded by darkness and then a bright light breaks through.
A strong wind blows past me and the hopeful smell of pine trees surrounds me. Claudius Templesmith's voice echoes around me. "Ladies and gentlemen, let the seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"
Sixty seconds. That's all we have until the gong realises us, if we step of anytime the landmines will go off. The cornucopia is in the middle, surrounded by weapons and supplies that will keep us alive. Right in front of me is my bow and arrows. Haymitch's instructions are replaying and I know, if I get those bow and arrows then I can truly save Peeta. I know where I have to run, now I search for Peeta. He's about five tributes to my right and he's watching me. He knows what I'm thinking. I'm fast enough, I can get my bow and then clear out, get him and then run. The chances of keeping him alive will be a lot higher. I think he might be shaking his head, but I can't see because of the sun. I squint harder and then the gong goes off. I've missed my chance.
Those lost seconds have cost me my chance of getting any weapons. If I go for them now then I am surely dead and then Peeta. My feet shuffle for a moment, to Peeta or to get something for us. I lunge forward, picking up a plastic sheet and a loaf of bread. Anything can help us. I'm angry at him as he's slimmed the chances, but there's still hope. I sprint twenty meters picking up the orange backpack and then I turn to where Peeta is waiting, anxiously. He's looking around him, while watching me and then I hear him shout my name.
I turn to see the boy from District 9 is behind me. But then he coughs, blood splattering in front of him. He drops to the ground, a knife sticking out of his back. The other tributes had made it to the cornucopia and are now spreading out to attack. We have to get out of here. The girl from District 2 is running towards me, clutching a half-dozen knives. I've seen her in training and she never misses. I'm her next target.
"Run!" I shout at Peeta. Hoping he will get the message and leave without me, before she kills both me and him. His eyes widen and I can hear the blade whistling towards me. I don't want him to see this. I pull the back pack up, protecting my head, and the knife lodges in the back. As I run, I pull both straps onto my shoulders and then take Peeta's hand, running into the woods.
I look back, seeing Peeta's red face and then the battle that goes on behind us. She's not chasing me anymore, but has gone onto another victim. Several already lie dead on the ground, others are still fighting. Those who fled would be running deep into the woods. We run for a while, before slowing down to a jog and then drifting between jogging and walking.
I walk next to Peeta, putting the loaf of bread in the back pack and then folding the plastic sheet up to fit in my pocket. I may not have my bow, but we have something. At least the girl supplied me with a long thick blade of a knife, I slide that into my belt.
Peeta is getting tired, he isn't used to long days of walking and hiking through woods. We stop, resting and we go through the back pack. One thick black sleeping bag that reflects body heat, a pack of crackers, a pack of dried beef strips, a bottle of iodine, a box of wooden matches, a small coil of wire, a pair of sunglasses and a two litre plastic water bottle with a cap for carrying water that's bone dry.
No water. Already my throat has started to gone dry and my lips have started to crack. I can see Peeta's the same. We need to find water soon. I just hope the lake at the cornucopia wasn't the only source. That will draw us all back for a fight. The careers are probably already set up on guarding it. We just need to keep going in search for another source. It's coming up to afternoon, if we keep heading out we could find water before finding somewhere for the night.
"You shouldn't have gone out there," Peeta says after we put everything back into the back pack. I need to camouflage it soon, the bright orange stands out.
"I could have gotten the bow and arrows if you hadn't distracted me." I tell him. I'm still angry with him but I understand why he didn't want me to risk it.
"You could have died." He whispered, his voice full of pain.
"But I didn't." We're alive with supplies that will keep us alive for now if we don't find water.
He shakes his head and I can see he is angry with me as well, for risking my life. I kiss his cheek, gaining a smile from him. The Capitol must be loving this. "Don't be mad. This will help us." I tell him.
"Then don't risk doing that again." He tells me.
I don't promise anything, or say that I won't because we both know I will. "Come on. Let's keep going and find some water." I offer my hand, which he takes and then we carry on walking.
The ground starts to slope down. I don't like this, I would rather be up high where I can see my enemies. But we keep going. Rabbits have started to appear, something that we can eat. If there's rabbits around, then there has to be water nearby, as well.
We're probably on screen right now, the star-crossed lovers holding hands in hope to save each other. I just hope if we go any longer without water, then someone would sponsor us some.
Its late afternoon when the cannons begin, each shot for each fallen tribute. That means the surviving tributes from the cornucopia have left and will likely be tracking us down now. We stop, counting the sound of each cannon. Eleven. Thirteen of us left. Eleven more to die and then I can go happily, knowing Peeta won. Out of all of them, I know the boy from District 9 is dead and I wonder who else has joined him.
Twilight is closing in and we're starting to get tired and hungry – as well as thirsty. We walk another hour before we start to look for a place to camp. I think about up in the trees but I don't think the branches will take his weight. At the moment, it's our best chance.
Night creatures have started to come out, a sign that other animals will be hunting the rabbits and perhaps us as well. I'm more worried about the tributes then the animals that lurk in these woods.
Peeta watches as I set up a few snares in the bushes, using the wire. I know it's risky to be setting snares when tributes could be hunting during the night, but it's the only way for us to get food at the moment and I can't set snares while on the run.
I pick a willow tree for us to rest. The branches are quite thick, sturdy enough to hold Peeta's weight if he's careful. It offers us concealment, in those long flowery tresses. I turn to look and Peeta and see he's watching me, curiously. "Up we go." I tell him.
"I don't think it will hold my weight." He says.
"As you climb, try to be light on your feet. And go for the thicker, sturdier looking branches." I say.
"Alright." He says and then takes a step onto the first branch, pulling himself up. He goes slowly, only putting a small amount of pressure on each branch. I follow behind him, looking at the branches that would do well for us.
"Wait." I tell him and point to the long, thick, sturdy looking fork on his right side. It will hold and fit both of us. He climbs onto the branch and looks down, we're not too high up but we will only be seen if you look up. I climb onto the branch with him, arranging the sleeping bag in a comfortable manner. "Get in."
"You're getting in as well, right?" He asks me.
"Yes." I say, rolling my eyes but I'm blushing slightly.
He gets in first and I follow in next to him. I open the flap of the back pack, pulling a quarter of the bread from the loaf and then push the back pack down to the bottom of the sleeping bag. I tear the quarter of the bread in half and hand a piece over to Peeta. "Thank you," he says.
Before I eat, I take my belt of and loop it around the branch and us, securing us to the tree in case we roll over. We eat the bread and then I pull my hood up, snuggling down next to Peeta. The temperature has started to drop.
"I bet you're glad I took the risk now." I tell him.
"Risking your life? No. But I'm glad you managed to get the sleeping bag, it's warm and I'm closer to you." He says. I smack his chest lightly, but I am smiling and blushing.
The anthem begins to play and the Capitol seal lights up in the night sky. Photographs of the fallen tributes appear with their district number. First to appear is the girl from 3, meaning all the career tributes from 1 to 2 have survived. The boy from district 4, then the boy from district 5. Both boys and girls from districts 6 and 7. The boy from 8. Both from 9, the boy who died in front of me. And then the girl from district 10. It finished with the anthem and then everything goes dark again. I let out a relieved sigh that Rue is still alive.
Peeta wraps his arms tighter around me, "we need to sleep." He says. I put my hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat underneath.
"We do." I agree.
He's quiet for a moment. "Can I ask you a question first?"
"OK." I say, looking up at him.
"When did you start to like me?" He asks and I can't help but laugh. We're out shivering and fighting for our lives, while desperate for water, and he wants to know when I started liking him? "What?"
I shake my head. "You really want to know?" I ask. I know the audience are all tuning in now, wanting to know. I wish we had privacy, I don't want any of them to know. They have no right.
"I do." He says, rubbing his nose in my hair.
"It was when you gave me the bread," I tell him. "Your kindness saved me and my family. It gave me hope that we could go on, that we didn't have to starve."
"Good," he says and kisses the top of my head.
"What about you?" I ask, curiously.
"It was the first day of school. We were five. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up." He says.
"Your father? Why?" I ask.
"He said, 'see that girl? I wanted to marry her mother but she ran of with a coal miner,'" says Peeta.
"What? You're making that up!" I exclaim.
"No, true story," Peeta says, "and I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner when she could've had you?' and he said, 'because when he sings… even the birds stop to listen.'"
"That's true. They do. I mean, they did," I say. It surprises me how Peeta's father had even spoken about me and the feelings he had for my mother.
"So that day, in music, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent." He says.
"Oh, please," I say, laughing.
"No, it happened. And right when your song ended, I knew – just like your mother – I was a gonner," Peeta says. "Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you."
"Without success," I add, with a small sigh. If he had spoken to me, would things have turned out different?
"You didn't have much success, either," he points out, "but, in a way, my name being pulled out of the reaping was a piece of luck. Luck and a burden for us." He says.
I can't help but smile at how he remembers all those details. How he sees being pulled out of the reaping as luck to being with me. We have been brought together by the Games to only be ripped a part. I kiss him, lightly. We both know we have an audience, so we don't let it go out of control. Just a small, sweet kiss for us instead of them.
"Go to sleep," he tells me and I rest my head in the crook of his neck, spending the last of my time with him. My limited time spent with the guy I love.
He realises a sigh, kissing the top of my head one and then we settle down. I'm closing my eyes, ready for sleep to take over when there's a snap. Snap, snap. Our branch isn't snapping, we would have felt that. I look around, there's darkness for a second and then a spark of a fire appears. The fire grows bigger, illuminating the dark forest and a pair of hands warms over the flames. "Stupid person." I mutter to Peeta.
What are they thinking? Making a fire at night is risky and especially when the careers are out hunting the tributes. "They're just cold," Peeta says and we settle back down again.
"They're going to end up dead and bring danger right to us." I whisper. We lie low for a couple of hours, the fire still crackling behind us. It's more of a risk if we leave but either way we're still in danger – Peeta is still in danger. If I had my bow and arrow then I could kill whoever it is from her, but all I've got is a knife.
Peeta isn't asleep as he's playing with my hair, amusing himself while we wait for them to leave. We don't talk. I wish he would try to get some sleep, both of us don't have to be up to guard. Dawn is approaching and I think we – including the stupid person with the fire – may have gone unnoticed. Then I hear the six pairs of feet breaking into a run. The fire starter must have dozed off. It's a girl as she pleads with them and then her scream of pain, followed by silence. Someone cries out, "twelve down and eleven to go!" which then gets five other hoots of cheers.
I place a hand on Peeta's chest, telling him to be still and quiet. If we're seen then we're dead – both of us. The careers. They're fighting in a pack, which isn't surprising. They go round hunting the weak before turning on each other. They're checking her supplies and I wonder if it was Rue. No. Rue would have been smarter than that.
"Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking." I'm certain that's the boy from District 2. The others murmur and then to my horror they're heading this way. A cannon goes off and a hovercraft soon appears, taking the girl away. They don't know were here but I'm worried. I push back against Peeta, trying to cover us by the tree as much as we can. He squeezed my hand. If they keep moving then they will pass us.
They stop just below our tree, flashlights and torches in their hands. I can see parts of them through the branches. We don't say anything. We don't move. We just hold hands.
"I want to find them soon." The boy from District 2, I think, says.
"They're probably cooped up in some hole together." A girl says, annoyance clearly in her voice.
"Better finding them both together. Alive. Let them watch each other die." Another one says.
"The poor love birds from District 12." Someone mocks.
I almost fall out of the tree. They're hunting for us.
(A/N): I appologize if Peeta climbing the tree wasn't very realistic, but it was a Willow and I am no tree expert. Hope you liked the chapter. So Everlark are getting cosy together. Please do tell me what you think. This was the last long chapter for the time being and I think the next one will be up on Wednesday. I'm now going to go see Mockingjay part 1 again, wooo!
Teaser: I've started planing ahead into catching fire and I am so excited with the ideas I have and the slight changes in the plot.