A/N: So, very rarely with this story will I ever have a titled for a chapter. This and one more will there be a song that just was so raw and made me think of Katniss, or Katniss and Peeta, that I have to use it. The song is called Human by Christina Perri. I recommend you guys listening to that beautiful song as you read this. It'll help set the mood.
I want to thank all who clicked follow/favorite/review. Thanks to all of you! You all rock!
~gloriaalex.k
~Natinator1234
~blossomofsnow65
~volleyball1020
~prairie loon
~alwaysbebravegirl0nfire
Thank you guys! I dedicate this chapter to you guys! It's all because of you that I continue this story. So once again, this is for you guys!
BTW! Before if you do read this, I tried my very best to make this first part real raw (I'm still learning) and I hope you all enjoy this rekindle that happened with Katniss and her mother and that certain best friend.
Chapter Six
Human
"Katniss," Peeta scurries back inside the bathroom where I was brushing my hair. He has cake batter on his left cheek. His fingers wrap tightly around the wooden spoon he was using to prepare a cake. He frowns. "are you sure you want to go out right now?"
I set my brush down. I smile softly. I slightly tap my fingers on the counter. "Yes, Peeta." I finally say with a douse of confidence. "I need too."
"It's just your emotions are greatly heightened at this stage in your pregnancy." He stutters, backing against the door as I exit. I roll down my sleeves and patter down the hall.
"I understand this." I respond calmly. I pass the kitchen with the high aroma of blueberry. My nose twitches, and my stomach growls; I continue on. I stop at the front door. My hand rests lightly on the doorknob, not wanting to leave quite yet. I turn my back on the door for a split second. Peeta stands in front of me.
He strokes my cheek gingerly. I smile pleasure. "I just don't want to see you hurting." He murmurs.
"I invited you to come." I remind quietly.
"I know." He swallows. "I just felt like I'd be out of place. I didn't quite know her before she died." He says glumly.
I cup his face. "That's okay." I feign a smile. "I'll be alright without you. It'll only be an hour, tops." I promise, overlapping my body around his into a sincere, deep hug.
A brisk knock makes me wriggle out of his warmth. I blow him a stiff kiss and tug open the door. My mother stands on the other side red eyed and clad in black. I force the lump in the back of my throat to reside and walk out, slamming the door in Peeta's face. "You ready?" I ask, hardening my steel grey eyes.
We stand in front of the victor house I presently occupy. The fresh planted primroses' blossom robustly in the late March sun. I take in a shaky breath and crouch down. My hands shakily scoop up a bouquet of the flower. I grip on them tightly and gesture for my mother to do the same. She crouches down and only picks up one feeble flower. Without making eye contact with me, she stiffly walks down the path and down the gravely street. Her thick leather boots crunch on the gravel as she descends farther on. I loosen one hand on the flowers and amble over to Haymitch, who was lazily rocking on a wooden rocker outside his shabby Victor House. A bottle of alcohol, which was drained, rested on his lap as he rocked. He narrows his eyes at me but nods. I do the same and stride up the rickety steps. I slap my hand around behind the rocker, making sure not to get it squashed by Haymitch's constant swaying. Grabbing the delicate painting and tucking it under my arm, I tersely nod again in a solemn shake and follow after my mother, who had stopped shortly ahead at the heart of the town.
"Let's go." I say briskly, marching on. My mother stops me by latching her hand over my arm. I stagger back, almost dropping the painting.
"What is that?" she questions, creasing her sculpted brows. Her hand trembles against my arm. I swallow and wrench my hand free.
"It's nothing." I snap.
"I deserve to know," shouts my mother.
I stride on. My mother falls in step behind me.
"You can't keep shutting me out." She whispers. Her voice cracks.
We reach the end of Distract Twelve. Where numerous corpses rest in peace, we search and find the right one we are looking for. We stand in front of the little tombstone that had been planted years ago. The bright, cheery sun now cowards away in fear underneath thick, gloomy clouds. The wind whisks my hair around my face, gradually picking up. I shiver somewhat. I hear my mother sniffle and choke back her held sob.
I suck in my breath and reach for the tiny hammer I stowed in my pocket. I grab ahold of the tiny nails in my side pocket and arch forward. I lift the painting and set it sternly behind the gravestone. With the protective wrap concealing it, I attach the picture to the tombstone. The flowers are still in my hand.
Straightening back up, I brush back my hair, even though it comes soaring in front of my face, and ask, "Is he not coming?"
"I honestly don't know." My mother's voice trails off.
I shake my head. I should have known. It has been ages since I've last seen him. The last time was before returning back home at the end of the rebellion, alone and depressed.
My grip tightens around the flowers. The blossoming petals began branching off the flowers and, as if knowing exactly where to go, fall perfectly aligned next to her headstone. My eyes start to burn.
"She was the light in all of this…madness." My mother chokes out hoarsely. She sweeps her hair back. "I would have never noticed she was strong if it wasn't for the life that was put in front of us." She glares my way. "If it wasn't for you who saved me from wanting to die." She stares directly ahead. I stare ahead too at the melancholy atmosphere. "But it should've been me." My mother burst into tears. I snap my head towards her. She locks her eyes with me, her eyes which were full of salty, hot tears. "She was supposed to live! Have a life, marry someone who could support her!" my mother sobs. She steps toward Prim's tombstone. She arranges the brittle flower on top of the stone. Her fingers are shaking irately. She slumps to her knees and buries her head in her hands.
Watching my mother's raw feelings explode from her clenched up body, I, too, realize that I finally have to accept it and move on. I step beside my mother and let the flowers tumble from my deathly grip. They fall perfectly onto the tombstone. They sprinkle around it.
But I'm only human
And I bleed when I fall down
I'm only human
And I crash and I break down
Your words in my head, knives in my heart
You build me up and then I fall apart
'Cause I'm only human
My chin wobbles. I close my eyes and open up. My heart fills like its being repeatedly stabbed by the torturing reminder of Prim's body being blown to pieces. Her gleeful smile as she saves a life from death's door. Her light laugh pounds in my ear. And the tears chute freely down my flushed cheeks.
Knowing how life can abruptly become short and stop in seconds makes me become scared again. Scared for the living presence inside of me. The wonderful masterpiece that Peeta and I created.
My legs become like jelly, and I start to crumble to the ground.
"Katniss?"
I halt. I slowly whirl around to see his stout frame dressed with a black top and sloppy, baggy brown pants with black hiker boots. His grey eyes that match mine so well glistened. His harden expression was kind and enduring. More tears welled up in my eyes knowing that he actually showed up.
I slowly begin walking but break into a hearty sprint. Now the awaiting rain pounds fast and hard from the clouds above. The sheets of rain slather our bodies, but all I could think of is that Gale actually showed up, he was here. And it warms my heart.
I fall into his arms and snuggle closer to him. The rain was hiding the constant flow of tears. "I've missed you like crazy." I admit meekly.
Gale rest his head on top of me. He rubs my back. "I've missed you more, Catnip." He responds with a sigh.
"I can't believe you came." I break into a sob.
"I'm here." He says coolly. He stares straight ahead, a pleasant smile draped over his face. "I'm here."
I pull back. I crane back and see my mother straightening up, staring blankly at the tombstone. I lead Gale to it. He clears his throat and crosses his hands in front of his torso.
I'm only human
I'm only human
Just a little human
I close my eyes and steady myself. My minds dolls back to Peeta's caring face. His unlimited promises he's always kept. And his soft, unconditional kisses that made me swoon each time I receive one. I think of his gentile touch and the promising lust in his eyes. And the happiness he feels about this baby.
Even though I no doubly wanted him holding me in his gallant arms, I knew I could survive this day without him. I knew that once I opened up about the death of Prim and finally accepted it, I would be stronger than before. I have to do this with specific people, the people who held me through thick and thin as I grew up.
I slide my fingers with Gale's and my mother's. I open my eyes and say self-confidently, "Prim, you are in a better place now. A place where there' unconditional happiness." I take a steady breath, calming my nerves. "I miss you so much, but I know you would want me to move on, stop silently grieving and hurting." I smile sadly. "I love you, Prim."
XXX
The rain had died down an hour later. The sun was shining vividly out, warming up the district. My mother had given Gale a polite hello and hug before descending back to the Victor Houses. Gale and I had reluctantly stayed back, deciding to catch up while getting dry. It had been almost two hours of talking. And we were slowly running out of things to talk about since I've retired on hunting, only doing it occasionally every other year.
"So Catnip," Gale says as we walk through the forest. "How have you been?"
I shrug. "Nothing much. I mean, a lot actually." I pause, collecting what all I was going to tell him about these past few years. Not much. "Peeta and I got married three years ago." I say.
I wince. I notice his jaw tightening. He starts to stiff up but calms down. "How's District Two?" I ask, trying to steer away anything about me.
"Same old, same old." He replies tersely. He stops walking and leans back on a damp tree. He folds his hands across his bulky chest and studies me. "You've changed, Katniss." He comments.
I cringe, avoiding eye contact. I urge myself to not cover up my stomach. I ball my hands in fist, turning my knuckles a ghastly white.
"I have?"
"Yes," he says with a confirming nod. His forehead creases. "I just can't figure it out."
I nod. "Oh, well nothing hasn't changed." I say rather leisurely. "I'm still me."
"No you're not." He scoffs.
I furrow my eyebrows. "What?" my voice hardens.
"The bread boy has changed you." Gale huffs. "Softened you up a bit."
"Peeta." I say through clenched teeth. "His name is Peeta." I bark. Suddenly I realize, why did I want him here? To ruin my happiness? I didn't want him messing everything up.
I turn on my heels and start retreating back to the abandoned, rotting gate when I felt his hand clench around my wrist, gripping tighter, turning my wrist unbelievably red. I gasp as I saunter back. "Gale, let me go." I growl, trying to shove his wrist off. He tightens it. I feel his fingers digging into my skin. "Gale!" I shout. I began to whimper. "You're hurting me!"
His hands relaxes. "I'm sorry, Katniss." He quickly apologies, jamming his hands in his pocket. He sighs and pulls one hand to the back of his neck. He begins rubbing it awkwardly.
I nod firmly. "Whatever." I say flatly, striding to the gate, rubbing my wrist.
"Katniss, wait!" he calls out after me. I stop, knowing he was going to go out of his way to apologize.
"I just…I just need my space, Gale." I admit.
"You've had your space for three years now." He chuckles gawkily. "I've missed you, a lot."
"You can stay." I tell him flatly. "But I need my space right now, so please let me have it." I walk away.
XXX
Breathing steadily, I open the door to the house. "Hello?" I call out. The lights were all out in the front. It was past seven now, and the sun had set down as I visited my mother for some bandage to wrap my wrist. I then had stayed for dinner.
I close the door and pad down the living area and pass the vacant kitchen. A small cake was pressed at the back corner. I walk over to it and peer at the delicate writing and patterns.
Before I can make out what the writing says, I hear a grunting sound coming from the back rooms. I push off the counter and head back there. "Peeta?"
I open the door to our room to see Peeta standing on the bed, hoisting a painting overhead on the wall. He turns around and smiles. "Hey." He greets. He hooks the painting on the wall and comes down off the bed.
I stare at the painting of beautiful primroses. My heart aches, but I feel no pain. I smile. "Did you make this?" I ask, breathless.
"Yeah," he admits bashfully.
"It's outstanding." I compliment. "But…when did you find time?"
"Here and there." He responds, lacing his fingers with mine. He sways me around. "I finally finished it yesterday an waited for it to dry." He murmurs in my ear, kissing my temple. A faint shiver runs up my spine.
"I love it." I say, my voice trailing off. His hands snake to my stomach, and strokes my stomach. I smile with pleasure. He kisses my cheek. His hands finding their way back to mine. He twirls me around. "I've never been the one to dance." I remind him as he draws me close to him, ceasing the gap. His eyes shine brightly as we back out, Peeta leading me into a classy, elegant dance around our bedroom.
"Let me show you, then." He says as he cups his fingers with mine and places his other hand on my waist. I straighten up and fix my hand on his shoulder.
"Lead the way."
A/N: Sooo? Did you like it? I wanted to update this even though I have school tomorrow and super tired I had soccer earlier. I really hope you all looked up that song. Its so beautiful. I love it. It's so raw and real.
To clarify something so no one gets confused. Gael will be staying for a while in this story. So I hope you all like the upcoming drama that will come raveling at you guys. You've already got glimpse of what'll happen in some parts.
Review my lovelies and tell me what you thought! Your ideas will not go unnoticed, I swear! I wish you all the best.
Another BTW: Say Your Name will be updated when I have free time. So if anyone reads that, I'll update as soon as I have free time!
Until next time my lovelies!
*Disclaimer: I own only my plot! Everything else goes to Suzanne Collins!
