Summer
He won't watch. He won't look up.
He won't see cameras searching for the tributes, he won't fret or worry or jabber or chatter about anything involving the Games. That would play right into their hands.
It's mandatory to have the televisions showing the Games at all times, so they took away the power switch for all the rooms in schools. It's playing constantly, the volume booming and scraping against everyone's ears, clawing its way into minds. Education is interrupted - because this is the only education they really need. To learn that they are nothing, and that they can be wiped out at any moment if they stray from the line.
So this small act of rebellion, not watching, like the rest of the cafeteria, is necessary. He knows he wants to do something else - something drastic to fight back, but he's biding his time.
He won't watch.
Instead, he's going to just try to solve the problem in front of him. Not that he'll ever need math like this ever again, down in the dark and dank mines, another cog in a functioning machine, but he does it anyway.
"What the hell are you doing?" Thom's voice suddenly booms. A second later, his body accompanies his voice and he sits down the seat next to Gale, roughing hitting against his shoulder.
"Homework." He answers.
Thom rolls his eyes. "With Madge Undersee. I saw her, she was standing with you during the bloodbath."
He won't answer.
Because he actually doesn't know what he's doing. He's kissing her. He's listening to her play piano. He's watching the way her hair flies in the breeze and the way she eats strawberries.
"Gale." Thom says loudly.
"Thom."
He looks at him gravely. "I'm serious. You know who her father is."
"Yeah, I do." Gale replies sharply. He, of anyone, knows.
Thom leans in closer to him, covering the worksheet in front of Gale with his palm, demanding his attention. "There are plenty of pretty girls - "
"Thom."
"- that are really available. What about Tessa? I'm sure she'd be happy to see you again."
"I don't want to see Tessa." He mutters irritably. He likes Thom, but he wishes he'd just leave him alone. Especially about this.
"Why not? Tessa's great." Thom ducks his head back up, and waves across the room. "Hey, Tessa!"
The brown-haired girl turns slowly, catches Thom's call, and giggles.
"Hi Thom." Tessa says. Her eyes shift down to his, and she gives him a feral smile. "Gale."
"See?" Thom insists.
"Thom, stop it." He says firmly.
Thom retreats for a moment, sucking in his teeth, before going back in. "And what about Katniss?"
"What about Katniss?" Gale almost flinches at her name.
"Have you just forgotten about her?" Thom pushes. "Don't lie, everyone knows you're completely in love with her. Or were, I guess I should say."
Gale's pencil bends so hard it snaps.
"Fuck off, Thom."
Thom shrugs, finally jumping up from the seat, and standing by the corner of the table. "I'm just letting you know that whatever's going on between you and Madge Undersee should stop. For your own good."
He's just noticed the small vase on the windowsill. It only held one flower - a daisy, presumably the one he'd picked for her in apology for his behavior that night she'd been over for dinner.
His fingers drift over the petals. He stands in her kitchen, under the guise of walking her home. She invited him in.
School's about to end, which would bring unbridled joy. But for him, in a week, he'll have to officially start mining. He tries not to dwell too much on that for too long.
The house is blissfully quiet, she explains that all the Capitol guests are sleeping off their hangovers, and that her father is out doing rounds with the Peacekeepers before the camera's taping. She doesn't mention her mother, but he assumes she's upstairs too.
"I saved it." She admits, pouring herself a glass of water. She holds it up, offering him some, but he declines.
He looks at the drooping flower. "It's dying."
"I guess this means you'll have to get me another, then." She says loftily.
A chuckle escapes him, and he says, "Alright."
"Come on, it's a nice day. Let's sit outside." She leaves the kitchen through the back, balancing a bowl of something with one hand and opening the door with the other. "It's the first official day of summer today, according to my father's calendar."
He follows her out into the backyard, a fresh-looking lawn with a small fruit tree. She seems to float over to a shady spot underneath the tree. He sits next to her, leaning against the small tree trunk.
"Strawberry?" She finally asks, showing him the bowl. He doesn't bother fighting down his smile, and he shakes his head. She shrugs cavalierly. "Suit yourself. They're delicious. I have to hide them from those people from the Capitol, they seem to love them as well."
"Really? They eat all your food?"
She rolls her eyes. "They don't seem to grasp the concept that they're guests. And that I'm not a hired servant."
"Why are they here? In District 12?" Gale asks, his voice on edge.
"They're reporters. They've been preparing to do interviews with people who are close to Katniss or Peeta. For television between breaks." She explains. She cuts her eyes at him, and adds, "They'll probably interview you."
"I... don't think so." He replies shortly.
She looks down at her hands in her lap. She's sorry she brought it up, now. It's a dream, being here, just spending time in the warm summer sun with him. Though she secretly likes watching him get angry. She wants to see that passion that he guards so much.
"They're idiots." He suddenly says. "All of them, those people living in the Capitol. They're distracted by shining things, turning a blind eye to the poor, all of us "below" them. And the President and all his little subsidiaries, all they do is take and take and take. We give them an inch - they'll always take a mile. We have to prove somehow that we're not sheep."
And there it is. His voice is colorful, and he cares, and there's something burning and growing behind his eyes.
"How?" She asks. He blinks for a moment, but then looks casually the other way.
"I don't know."
She picks a blade of grass out of the ground and twirls it between her fingers.
"I feel that way too. Sometimes, when I look at my father, and think about the way he used to be before he had the job... It just changes you. Constantly having to worry about what the Capitol and President Snow think. It's like we're all these ants in this glass container, and at any time they can crush us."
"Yeah...yeah, exactly." He says slowly, he can't believe she's just said that. She gets it.
"What?" She queries, a little more of the earlier lightness back in her tone. And he can't help but smile again. Because she was the last person he would ever expect to understand, but she does. Of course she does. It's her.
"Nothing." He murmurs quietly.
Her blue eyes meet his grey ones, gazes colliding somewhere in between.
And she suddenly takes a fistfull of his shirt and pulls him down to her lips. The heady, dizzy feeling sets in, like her knees are about to buckle, but she's sitting now and safe from that embarrassing reaction.
Her world is turned sideways as her back hits the soft grass. He leans on top of her, his hard, muscular form pressing against hers. He smells like woodsmoke and apples and earth.
His hands squeeze her hips slightly, reflexively. His tongue slides along her bottom lip, and her lips part slightly as he does this. He's done this a lot before, she can tell. She aches, in an alarming, fiery way that makes a lump grow in her throat.
He is fire. Fire, that is hot and destructive and angry and sporadic and unpredictable and addictive.
She is sugar – expensive sugar, expensive sugar he can never afford.
But he doesn't stop – he can't stop. The way her tentative hands ghost over his chest makes him feel like he's going to explode.
She lets out a sigh, and he can't help pressing himself against her. She gasps and her hands travel up to the back of his head, smashing her lips against his with dizzying vigor.
He's drowning in Madge, her scent and taste and the feeling of her little hands in his hair and her body against his.
Her shirt's ridden up a little, and his thumb grazes her bare skin. They both shudder, and he goes back to kissing her neck. Her skin is so unbelievably, unbearably soft and he can barely handle it.
She's sighing his ear, and he has to grit his teeth and resist from what he really wants to do, which involves ripping her clothes off. He dips down, kissing her collarbone, as her hands run up and down his back. He sucks a bit harder at her skin, and her fingernails start to dig into his back.
He whispers something against her neck. Her hands go under his shirt, drifting over his abdomen and up to his chest. They're so small, but the way her nails ghost over his stomach makes him bite back a groan.
She exerts a barely-audible moan, but it's right into his ear, and he strains not to jerk against her. He's somehow ended up between her legs. He doesn't care how.
His hands travel up her sides, under the tips of his fingers hit the base of her bra. He pauses for a moment, but she just continues kissing him, so he takes this as a go ahead. His thumbs brush the cup of her bra -
And what he's actually doing hits him like a brick wall. Here he was, his hands up her shirt, out in the open. He had to slow things down - he was supposed to be in control. Why had he let things get this far, right in front of the Mayor's house with the mayor's very innocent daughter? It was probably because she'd pulled him down on top of her. How was a guy supposed to resist that?
He slides his hands back down until they're out from under her shirt. He pulls away slowly, sitting back up away from her. She sits up too, running a hand through her hair and not being able to meet his eyes.
Why did he stop, she wonders. She knew that he was much more experienced than her - maybe she was bad at it, or something. He seemed to be enjoying it while it was happening, but maybe he hadn't.
She sneaks a look at him, but his head is turned away.
She's kind of in awe over what just happened. She wanted things that were entirely inappropriate, with him. This hot, coiling feeling roared in her lower stomach, and she wanted him on top of her.
She internally shook her head at herself. She couldn't believe that she was thinking those things.
She brushes herself off, standing up and pulling Gale up with her. They stand, staring at each other again. But this time, Gale takes a step away from her.
"I should be getting home." He says slowly. He has this misted-over look in his eyes that she finds quite pleasant.
"Yes." She replies. But she doesn't want him to go.
He holds her gaze for another moment before re-tracing that step away and kissing her chastely. It's too short.
"I'll see you tomorrow." He says quickly as he walks away from her.
"I'll see you." She calls after him.
She watches him until he fully disappears into the distance, under the shade of the fruit tree, her fingers pressed to her lips. And she can't wait to see him again.
A/N: Whoa quick update w000t!
I hope everyone's been well. Thanks to all that reviewed the last chapter, even just to say that you liked it. It really drives me to keep posting because people are actually enjoying it.
Next chapter should be up soon!
Please review!
