Panem's Darling—Chapter 10
A/N: Blargh. I'm sad because IAN'S LEAVING!
That's all I have to say. Not even gonna say "enjoy ch. 10".
Just read already! *SOBS*
Chapter 10—The Last Night
Ian's POV
"Ian."
I return to the bench, horrified and frightened by the words that were uttered so quickly, so quietly. Effie was tearful and Haymitch was slightly angry and they told me everything and then Effie couldn't keep talking since she was crying too hard and Haymitch seemed like 1% pitiful but hey 10 has the best brandy around and then I started yelling that I didn't care how nice the bars were in 10 I just wanted to stay and then I was screaming and kicking and punching and crying with Effie and then they had to force-feed me a calming drug and then I was a little bit better.
"Ian."
Her voice echoes in my head, not tearful, but broken.
"Ian."
She has to say my name three times before I actually comprehend what she's saying. A single teardrop runs down her cheek, her blue eyes full of unshed tears that she's fighting to hold in. Her attempt at a smile is so brave to me.
She holds out a hand, slender and pale, to me. I take it gratefully, kissing it gently. It's quivering slightly and she's been biting her nails.
"Oh, my god, you couldn't even think of one good thing to say about 10?"
She gives a shaky laugh. "Um…10's beer is really good?"
"Shut up! Haymitch told you to say that!"
"No, I heard him scream it over your screams. Heck, people in 4 heard it." Her eyes dance across the sky, thoughtful. "Okay, okay, something else…I hear they grow phenomenal flowers. They're simply gorgeous. They grow all sorts. And I know that they're the livestock district, but I've seen the flowers they grow, due to the fertile farmland, and they're beautiful. They grow tulips, roses, carnations, mums, you name it."
"That's wonderful." I smile. She makes things better.
Not for long.
"I'm sorry." My voice cracks. Her face softens.
"For what? You didn't do anything."
"Yeah, I did. I got relocated. I'm the one leaving. And I should be preventing it, I should be running. But I'm here. I'm here, doing nothing, just biding my time until oops, time to go! And I'm sickening myself with every—freaking—second I don't do anything to help my case. I'm going to be alone in 10, just sitting in a house, all la dee da just sitting here going mentally insane, staring out windows and thinking of what could've been if I'd only done something in my life."
"Ian." Her eyes overflow with tears. "You are doing something. You're with me…you're here…" She cuts off, wiping tears with her hand, her breaths raspy and uneven. "You did do something in your life. You won the Games. With me. I thought—I thought that was enough.
"God, Primrose, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to—I wasn't trying—"
Great. I've hurt her feelings. She's right. I am doing something. I did do something. I fell in love. And that's the most any person could do.
"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize. It's my fault, really, taking out the note in the first place. Peeta was only trying to help, and I guess I should've known better, that the Capitol would devise something. I think it's revenge on Katniss, seeing her sister struggle like this…"
"Don't blame yourself."
I lean over and kiss her. We fall into each other, marching to our own beat, the beat that goes thump thump like the beat of a heart. We catch stars and dance on the moon and kiss on the sun; we run on the ocean and laugh on the wind and smile on the sky in that kiss. We're back in the arena, underwater in that wave in that kiss. And for just a few moments, I forget about going to 10. I forget about being relocated and alone for the rest of my life and just take her hand and run with her, spinning her around in the Meadow and dancing forever on a ray of the sun, her blue eyes so wide, never shedding another tear again…
"You know, if you're going to become a Haymitch, 10's the place to be," she whispers, and I laugh so hard that I fall off of the bench. She laughs at the sight of me, and soon we're both laughing so hard that some must mistake them for screams, since Effie comes clip-clopping out, her face frantic.
"Oh, thank heavens. I thought something was wrong," she says over the last of our chuckles.
"No, just lightening the mood," Primrose says in such a voice that I start laughing again.
"Mr. Reseda, please pull yourself together. We need to get you packed. You can visit Ms. Everdeen tonight."
"Oh—um—yes, Ms. Trinket." She smiles at the sound of her new title. Her heels make a clip-clop-clop-clip sound on the ground. I follow her, her dress swishing with a whoosh-whoosh.
"See you tonight," Primrose calls, still laughing slightly.
That's how I know that she's a fighter.
Prim's POV
I fear Ian's fate. I fear he'll go insane, become a Haymitch or even an Effie, or a Snow or a Gale.
See, Gale and Katniss had this huge, huge fight before I was reaped. Basically, Katniss thought Gale kept taking more game then she. So she asked him. And I guess he was in a horrible mood that day, because he just exploded. He ranted to her about how he deserved more game, since she had money to buy her own, and how his family was so much bigger so he needed more. And Katniss said that her game was special to her because of Dad, so of course she wants game and the butcher's meat is horrible anyway and she needs to trade at the Hob. And Gale slapped her in the face, saying that she was "unbelievable" and "stupid". And he left.
We haven't seen him since. Katniss was really torn up about it at first, but eventually she just became furious. And Peeta was there to comfort her, and now she never wants to see Gale again.
Tears are falling
Hopes are crawling
Total heartbreak
Ian. I A N. My love. My world. Gone. Like that. Snap of a finger—boom—no more Ian.
"Snow, I am going to celebrate the day that you are murdered," I whisper into the darkness of my closet. I'm hiding from life. From my feelings.
I think of a quote from John Green. "That's the thing about pain—it demands to be felt." It's from a really great book. John Green is very wise.
Pain does demand to be felt. It orders to burn you up, then tear you down, then smother you and eventually suffocate you. It beats all except Time. Time is unstoppable, unreachable, and unforgivable. We will all die. We will all perish. But Pain—usually—wears off over time if not disappearing completely. Katniss was healed by Time. Can I be healed as well? Pain is the illness, Time is the drug. Pain is the break, Time is the glue. And I can only hope that this glue is stronger than the ones I've tried: Peace, Emptiness, and Numbness.
Screams are waking
Thoughts are breaking
Total earthquake
"Green like his eyes." I smile into the darkness of that closet.
And then I vow to myself.
I
Am
Not
Going
To
Become
Depressed.
That is not an option. That is not a good option that is not an okay option that is not even an almost-bad option. It is the HORRIBLEST option of all. Yes, I know that is not a word. "Horriblest" is just more appealing than "most horrible". It's messed up. Why can't we just save time and say "horriblest" instead of "most horrible." Okay. We're off track.
But seriously? Why not "terriblest" instead of "most terrible"? "Joyfulest" instead of "most joyful"? "Beautifulest" instead of "most beautiful"? It doesn't make sense.
I laugh as I exit the closet, fascinated by my own thoughts, little stars forming the strangest constellations.
My room in the house in Victor's Village (I call my room Home-Base 0) is very big but incredibly un-incredible. A bed, a desk, a mirror, two dressers, a rug, and a closet. A TV. There's my room in a nutshell: completely normal.
Knock. Knock knock.
"Come in." I hope it's Snow so I can STRANGLE him.
Nope. But the person in my doorframe exceeds all expectations.
"Ian." I'm aware that it's been 5.6 hours since I last saw him and I've been in the closet the whole time. I'm aware that I'm now wearing a dirty T-shirt that has a rainbow on it. I'm aware I'm wearing baggy sweats and Converses that are two sizes too big and that my hair is a rat's nest. I'm aware that I must look insane.
But maybe he isn't.
"Primrose." He walks over, picks me up, and plops me on his back. I laugh with giddiness as he spins around and around, dizzyingly wonderful.
"That—was—awesome." I smile at him as he sets me down on my bed, on my back. "This is the type of stuff I wish I could do for the rest of my life."
"Ditto." His feet touch mine as he lies on the opposite side of my bed. It's quite a big bed. We lie, feet to feet, gazing up at the ceiling which is a horrible checkered pattern.
"So—you know how we love each other? All that jazz?" His voice is slightly broken, but breaking further.
"Yeah, I know…" I'm a bit concerned.
"Well…I'm gonna be leaving…"
"Wow! Why didn't you tell me?" I push my feet against his, the pressure welcome.
"Shut up. Anyway, I was thinking…we're not gonna be able to communicate while I'm there. So—"
He withdraws from his pocket two high-class, very-tech, expensive-looking phones. They've got instant calling.
"Where in the name of Snow himself did you get those?" I say excitedly, fingering the logo on one of them.
"Haymitch, Logan, and Lauren helped me out. They disconnected the trackers in them, hooked them up, and put in the new numbers. You can thank them—"
I'm kissing him so hard, so happily, so wonderfully amazingly perfect that he's nearly knocked off the bed. I keep kissing him as he hands me my phone. I keep kissing him as he stands up. I cling to him, kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing because this is the best thing that's happened to me since we first kissed.
As I draw away an eternity later, he smiles, breathless and seemingly drunk with the alcohol I call love.
"So you'll call me then?"
I smile, tuck my horriblest hair behind my ears, and say, also breathless and seemingly drunk with the alcohol I call love, "Only if we can kiss over the phone."
"It's a deal."
"I was gonna do that no matter what."
He laughs and kisses my forehead.
"That's what I like about you."
"What?"
His green eyes shine as he tells me quietly, "The fact that you're yourself."
I smile and kiss his cheek, wondering how the heck I'm going to survive without him.