Sorry, sorry, sorry, for not updating I'm horrible for that. I'll TRY to better about that.
Unlike our quiet breakfast the table is full of life tonight. No more awkward, heavy, pauses. And even though Gale refuses to make idle chitchat I make an attempt to enjoy myself.
"Addalyn do you work?" I ask, feeling the need to make a stab at learning more about this woman. Other than the fact that she has a child and is married to Gale, is happy nearly all of the time, and is good at pretending everything is OK when it is most certainly not.
"No. I don't actually. I did odd jobs for my dad when I was younger. But mostly I stay at home." She answers, her eyes not quite meeting mine which leads me to believe she might not be entirely truthful. But who am I to pressure her into saying different? She has every right to keep things to herself. Haven't I been?
"That's not true." Gale murmurs into his plate.
"Gale." She says sounding slightly exasperated. Her eyes fill with an unexpected wetness.
"What? There's no point in lying!" He retorts indignantly, looking at me like it's my entire fault. I'm so sick of this look that I open my mouth in rage but Addalyn cuts me off.
"What do you want me to say?" Her voice has climbed in pitch, thoroughly distressed.
"There's no shame in telling them you've worked to get by." Gale says his voice softening as he catches sight of Addalyn's tear brimming eyes. "I worked twelve hour shifts just to buy a loaf of bread at the end of each week."
I don't see a need to remind him that I helped buy that loaf of bread by checking the snares every day and not taking any so he wouldn't have to trade for money.
"That's a part of my life I refuse to revisit." She exclaims in a tone that finalizes it. Knife squeals in pain against the ceramic as she drags it across to cut the chicken.
Gale sighs and actually sends a futile, apologetic glance in my direction. Like he's actually sorry that she's behaving this way. Like she's being some difficult child. Hesitantly he reaches out and pats her hand.
I catch Peeta's eye and kind of shrug to show my complete confusion of what's happening and how I don't understand at all how we've gotten here.
"Fine. I worked for a while," Addalyn mumbles into her plate, changing the subject abruptly in the next sentence. Just like that she's put the spotlight on me. I've had enough of the spotlight. "So Katniss how's your life?"
I raise an eyebrow. What an open question, loose ends all over the place. I could answer however I want and they would never know. At first I want to refuse, but my new tactic at making Gale feel as uncomfortable as possible in his own house, and if he's passing snide remarks why can't I? "Very well actually. I go hunting all the time," I lie through a faux smile, trying to remember all the lessons Effie put me through. "Of course I always stop in and see Hazelle. They're looking after the house while we're gone." A more genuine smile replaces the previous one, as I catch sight of Gale's expression. I take a bite of the chicken and watch his expression change, struggling to contort it into a pleasant smile.
Apparently Hazelle never told him about this. It's a bit of a white lie. Stretching the truth. I've been seeing her more often but not daily. Little too much to handle for me. The kids even, grown up now, still overwhelm me. I still see them as little kids. Get sucked into the illusion that the Games still exist.
"How wonderful," Addalyn says with genuine sincerity. "Although it's a little off-putting knowing that you've met his family and I haven't." I doubt the remark was intended to be as severe as Gale takes it. It certainly makes me feel better seeing the look on his face.
Everyone seems to have forgotten Alexandreus and it's only when his plate grinds the wood of the table that we look at him. "Dad, I'm done," Alexandreus says looking at Gale.
"Go put your dish by the sink," Gale says through gritted teeth.
Alexandreus now looks at his mother. His face betrays no hint of frustration that he was forgotten, quite the opposite. He looks like he can't get away fast enough and I remember what Addalyn said. "I'm going to bed," He says, taking the plate with him as he leaves.
"Already?" Gale calls after him, incredulously.
"The walk tired me out," He replies coming back and giving both his parents hugs. "Good night everyone." With a quick wave he retreats upstairs.
"Do you want me to tuck you in?" Addalyn calls after him.
When he replies he sounds close to the stairs already, "I'm good."
Addalyn smiles to herself, tenderly and you can see her thinking about her son. "Anyone want a glass of wine?"
"Yes," Gale says at once before the words are barely out of her mouth. I wasn't aware he drunk. Then again he never had the money before. Or the cause. And this certainly is a cause.
"You know I'll take one to." If I'm going to be stuck with Gale for a while this might ease the tension. Might get a few things out that need to be said. I'll follow Gale's example for once. Dangerous, but worthwhile.
Addalyn comes back with four glasses and a bottle of red wine in her fingers. As soon as Gale's glass is full he drains it in one go, throwing back the glass to catch the last droplets of the blood like liquid.
I can feel Peeta's eyes on me as I self-consciously take a sip and almost immediately want to spew it out. I never drink at home and he's probably wondering what I'm doing. The last time I remember drinking was with Haymitch and that was not a pleasant experience that I like to think of. We have a bottle of liquor sitting and gathering dust at home. A Wedding gift from Haymitch. Though I assume it's really for if he ever comes over. Then again he usually brings his own liquor if I remember correctly. It's been years since he's set foot in my home. To my knowledge. Who knows what Peeta's done when I'm out?
Addalyn stares at Gale with wide, disbelieving eyes as he pours himself another glass. She coughs in protest but otherwise says nothing, keeping her eyes on me, smiling a little like we're sharing some private joke. The smile lights up her face, making her glow.
Peeta clears his throat and peers over the rim of his glass at Gale who is starting to look a little more relaxed than before. The most relaxed I've seen him since we got here. "Alex is very cute, Gale-"
"So?" Gale cuts in, looking more and more ready to kick us out. Maybe the wine was a bad idea. I've never seen Gale drunk before, but when I pictured it in my mind when I was younger it was not a pleasant one. He's an angry drunk and I can see that starting to show. He's like Haymitch though somehow, impossibly worse. His anger fueled by the alcohol.
"Well he's your son isn't he?" Peeta says sounding confused and he's not the only one. I'm feeling quite confused myself with Gale's tone.
Whatever he was expecting for a reaction was not what he got. Addalyn's fork stops halfway to her open mouth and just hangs there while her eyes widen. Gale spews his wine an incredible distance, splattering me across the table, the red liquid getting everywhere. My face, neck, arms and top. Addalyn's fork clatters back onto the table and the contents of it fly onto my top, joining the wine.
"Oh sorry," Leaping up she reaches for a table mat, and hands it to me, her face red with embarrassment.
"It's fine, really." Looking up I can see her eyes are once again filled with tears. She needs to get a grip on herself before she shatters and can't glue herself together again. Because I know how hard it is to try. To try and piece yourself back into a working body that functions and has emotions. You need help.
Gale laughs much too loudly for it to be considered polite. The amusement sickening, "You're joking right?"
"Not really," I shoot, wiping off what I can and throwing the cloth onto the table where it sits, dirty and stained.
He still laughing but in between the hysterical giggles he spits, "He's not my kid. He doesn't look anything like me."
A laugh almost escapes my lips and I have to clamp my mouth shut to stop it. Silent fits of hysteria bubble up and escape through my lips until I sound like Gale. Drunk. It's almost a relief to find out. Relief to know that Gale isn't so coldhearted and would just find some other girl right away. That he didn't just marry Addalyn because of Alexandreus. That it took him time to move on and live again.
"But he's so young," Peeta objects.
"He's seven actually," Addalyn interjects, a few tracks of tears spilling over and staining her cheeks. "Almost eight. He's just small and a late developer. Barely talked at all until he was nearly four."
Gale gets up and leaves the room, apparently so appalled and insulted that he can't be in the same room as us. Beginning to get tipsy his feet fall heavily on the flooring, even on the carpet. Even tipsy, he's still more silent than Peeta.
"Gale, don't," Addalyn pleads, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand.
"Why not? These morons' are obviously too dimwitted to understand." He growls from what sounds like the living room. Sounds of things being shoved aside echo from the living room. He swears as something crunches and slams something shut.
"Excuse me," I say heatedly, not caring if he's drunk or what he'll do. I'm angry enough to not care. "I don't think you're in any position to say that to us. We're guests."
"Half an hour ago you wanted to leave," Gale snaps, coming back with a photo album clutched in his shaking hands. He tosses it across the table and as it slides toward me I can't help but admire the carefully painted roses on the red cover.
Peeta looks up, "And this is?" He says with a surprising edge to his voice. Doubt he enjoyed being called a dimwit just as much as I did.
"Open it to the bookmark," Gale commands gruffly, sliding into his chair and making it squeal across the hardwood.
It seems to be Addalyn's book so I look at her before I do anything. She nods tearfully, wiping her eyes. With one final heave she stops her crying and steels herself. The nod she gives me now is more resolved and I take it as an OK.
I glance at Peeta, but open the thick book to the marked page. Curiosity burning like a candle inside me. I know I'm not the only one by the way Peeta fidgets beside me. We're both thinking the same thing; finally, answers.
"What? I just see baby photos." I say shortly, frustrated at Gale's own inability to give even us even the most simple of instructions. Does he enjoy watching me struggle and knowing that as much as I'd love to take a chunk out of him I can't?
"What? Last page than."
I turn the album over and beneath the wretched blue lining I can see a pocket, brimming with photos, all their backs to us.
Clamped together with elastic the numerous photos are heavy in my hands. My fingers pause over the elastic, wondering if I should. Surely Gale wants me to, but this seems to be Addalyn's book and therefore her choice. Flipping through the book is one thing but pictures are private. I look to her again for confirmation. She gives a small nod and I tear off the elastic and flip the pictures over.
The first picture gives me a start because the happiness in it is actually painful to look at; Addalyn and a blonde man I don't recognize fill up the frame, both of them grinning broadly at the camera. Faces shining with joy. Looking like they wouldn't be anywhere else if given the choice. So completely in love that you could never deny it.
"Alex's father." Addalyn chokes on the words like they're heavy knives. "Alexandreus senior."
"What happened to him?" Peeta asks gently as he takes the picture from me. His eyes lock with Addalyn and she sees the chance to deny it.
The picture underneath that I hold gingerly is that of Addalyn and Alexandreus senior sitting and smiling up at the camera from the couch. Her head resting on his shoulder. She looks younger, less worn down, somehow even more beautiful then she is now. Hard to believe she could ever look that healthy even living in District 2. Disgusting that the houses were in such good shape when ours were just planks of wood with a roof thrown over them.
"Died in the Rebellion. Capitol enrolled his entire family and my own." Her voice isn't one to pity, and I'm sure it's the last thing she wants.
"So he was-"
"Fighting against your cause," She finishes my sentence, her eyes holding mine and I see the apology there but I also see the fire.
"I was pregnant with Alex at the time. Born weeks after he was killed." She sighs and it's weighed down, a hundred bricks just dropped on her.
"How?" I wonder if this is going too far. Can she handle reliving that horror? I'm not sure I would tell anyone. Too much of a burden to carry.
"They wouldn't tell me. But it was in the Capitol. Near the end of it all." She chokes. "So close…"
"I'm sorry. That must've been hard for you." Peeta says sympathetically.
"It was. Everyone I was close to died. His mother and sister were the only two left after. His sister died later though."
"Sounds like Hazelle," I mumble under my breath.
Gale hears me and shoots me a nasty look.
"We were engaged and everything. He was a wonderful man."
Gale it appears has no objections to Addalyn talking about her late fiancée apparently, probably deciding its better if she gets to talk about it to help her move on. Or maybe I'm wrong. Wouldn't be the first time and it won't be the last. Then again Gale has changed so much that I feel like I barely know him anymore. Did I know him at all? I knew him. We've just all changed.
Near the end of the pictures I find one of Addalyn sitting alone under the exact willow tree we were by today. I've never seen such a devastated look documented before. How can she stand to be near that tree? How can she even manage to be in the same park? If it was me I'd burn the park down just so I wouldn't have to look at it.
She leans across the table and almost smiles as she sees what picture I have. "Some guy was taking pictures in the park and I ruined his shot. Said I could have the picture."
"How can you stand to be there? In the park?"
"Believe it or not." She says softly, "The good memories are why I like to go back."
Gale is staring at Addalyn in a new light. Like he's never seen her before. He leans forward across the table and kisses her cheek.
"Did you get his body back?" It sounds like such an odd question but at least then you could look at your loved one, one last time. I never got the chance with dad or Prim and I regret it. I don't even remember saying I love you to either of them though I'm sure I did. It would just be nice to have the chance to say a proper goodbye to their face. As cold and white as it may be.
"There was nothing left to bury. I buried my engagement ring instead. Under the willow tree."
A stiff, heavy silence drapes across the room, weighing on each individuals shoulders. Making them bear it. Because, really, what is there left to say? I'm sorry for your loss? That's terrible? People die every day, some in more unfortunate circumstances than others. And Alexandreus senior's just happened to be a tragedy. But how many other men and women died in the Rebellion that had families to get back to? The image of Prim at the age of six floats into my head. Small, innocent and just smiling as she helped my mother prep dinner. It holds no meaning other than, perhaps to show a nice memory. I never seem to be in control of my own thoughts.
"Now you know," Gale remarks with a hard edge.
I have no words for him. Disgust. I'm disgusted that he would even do something like that when Addalyn is still wiping her tears on her napkin. I had no idea the amount of hate still bottled in him. All I can do is feel sympathy for her. That her loss came at such a bad time.
Gale rises from his chair without so much as a glance in our direction. He pats Addalyn on the back, like he understands how hard this is for her. He doesn't understand. If I killed his family and Addalyn then he would begin. Still not meeting my eyes, though I'm steadily glaring at him, he begins, almost as if we aren't there. "I'll need that album back."
With a movement, near agitation, Peeta practically flings the book at him. It slides across the table and jabs Gale in the leg. When I look at Peeta it's a shock to see him looking so furious. The one hand I can see if clenched tight. Usually Peeta is the one calming me down. Is he finally fed up? For one, terrifying, heart-stopping moment he reminds me of the hijacked version of him. Insane, ruthless, unreachable in the constant rage and war inside himself. To kill or not to kill? I guess that part is still inside him. Small, dormant but there.
Gale scoops up the book in one hand, the other bringing Addalyn to her feet. "I'm going to bed," He tells her. "I'll see you soon."
"Of course. Check on Alex for me." Her voice shakes. Slightly in a determined steadiness, but shakes.
Once he's gone Addalyn flops back onto her seat and stabs at the rest of her dinner with a vengeance I've never seen before in her. Keeping up the ruse that everything is perfectly OK and natural. I follow her example though the dinner doesn't taste that good cold.
After a few silent moments Addalyn finally says, "I'm sorry about that."
"Don't be," Peeta says, aiming for sympathetic and calm and barely reaching it.
"He-can-be s-s-so ridiculous," She chokes nearing the breaking point. She's on the edge of the cliff. Unable to be pulled back. Though we're both grasping at the hem of her clothes to try. I don't want to see her break down. Don't want to see her hit rock bottom because I can tell that won't be pretty. Pregnant women are emotionally unstable and given what Addalyn just went through it would be even worse.
"You've just noticed?" My voice is unintentionally sharp and it doesn't help improve the situation. Made it worse. Pushed her over the edge. Watch her fall.
"Well, no," She says with a shaky laugh, surprising me. She gives up the false pretenses. Finally. We're free to act as we wish. Not that anything was stopping me before, but Addalyn seems to have made it final. If she will cry then I can take my anger out on Gale for her sake. I can act however I please, whether driven my desperation or rage. I want to scream after Gale, call him terrible things that I should never say, but I don't. It's only Addalyn that stops me.
"May I take your plates?" She gathers up the dishes without waiting for us to reply, and I can hear her dumping them in the kitchen.
A twitch catches my eye and I turn my head to watch as Peeta discreetly slides two square sheets of paper into his pocket. I can't see what they are but it's a good guess that they're photos.
"Peeta," I mouth in disbelief, not daring to use a normal voice. Addalyn's still in the kitchen within hearing distance and a scolding tone would be suspicious.
Peeta puts a finger to his lips, silencing my protest. I can't believe it. Can't believe what I've just seen. Peeta is the last person I would think to steal. Maybe when we were younger and starving, but not now.
"Would you like anything to drink?" Addalyn pokes her blonde head in the doorway, watching us both jolt like we've been caught.
I shake my head and raise my wine glass. "I'm good."
We drift over to the living room and try our best to chat pleasantly, though all of us know our hearts aren't in it. I'm still reeling from the onslaught of information that's been handed to us. There's long spaces of silence, all of us grasping at straws for conversation. I stop fumbling and stop trying.
Alexandreus isn't Gale's child. Gale didn't move on just like that. He took time to recover. It makes him more…human.
Addalyn yawns and checks the clock, her face etched with tiredness. It's amazing she's been able to stay awake this long. She's fighting off the moment when she'll finally have to crawl in bed next to Gale. She's upset with him. I can see it. The couch isn't an option for her, not with the stomach.
"I better go to bed," She says with a great amount of reluctance. "You two will be fine on your own right?"
"We'll be great thanks." Peeta smiles.
It does her wonders. Foot on the bottom step of the stairs she says, "sorry about, well, everything." She murmurs, leaving us alone. The first apology.
After the bedroom door closes upstairs with a resounding thud Peeta gets up and wanders into the kitchen. At first I thought he was just going to get a glass of water or something but when I hear the kitchen cupboards opening and closing softly and the tap running I get up to see what he's up to.
"Exactly what are you doing?" I demand in a hiss.
"Doing the dishes," Peeta replies, plunging his hands into the soapy water.
"Why?" I ask. It's Addalyn's house. If she wanted to do her dishes she would've done them as soon as we were done with dinner. And it just seems wrong. To do the dishes when they never asked you. Most people don't take that well. If you're a guest doesn't the host insist that you never do such a thing?
"She was too overwhelmed to do them so I figured I'd do them a favour." He says simply.
"Doing her a favour," I correct, leaping up onto the counter beside him.
He heaves a big breath of air and looks at me. He looks older, like all the energy has been drained out of him, leaving just an empty shell behind him. "Yes."
"It's all so ridiculous."
"It's tiring Katniss," Peeta says, exasperated. "I haven't slept aside from a couple hours. It's tiring to go through all this and pretend it's all OK. When it's not."
It makes me feel better to know that I've at least gotten more sleep than him. Thinking back on it I can vaguely recall him tossing and turning last night. Finally abandoning sleep and just pacing. It's hazy as I was sleeping soundly for most of the night. Ironic seeing how these past days should be the worst sleep. "I know," I agree. It's tiring, it's ridiculous, and it's confusing, it's depressing, it's painful and it's just plain stupid.
"You're not helping," He tells me in a tone of fairness, so that it's impossible to contradict him.
"What do you mean?" I snap.
"Have you realized you've been walking around with a sour lemon look? You haven't stopped scowling. Just scream at him and get it out so we can go home. I know you won't go until you do. You won't let it go, will you?" Tired. He sound so tired. Like he's ready to just give up. I feel the same way, this is so pointless but I know he will never let me. If I wasn't as tired as him I would be angry at him for this, but Peeta has been through a lot these past days.
"Of course I won't let it go." I retort, angrily. "He just left. He killed my sister and he hurt me!" Peeta knows what I mean. Not physically. Mentally, emotionally. Traumatized me. And I want to tell him that. It's not even so much about revenge as it's just finally letting him know. Letting it all loose.
"I'll stay as long as it takes but it's painful." He says as if I didn't already know this. Of course I know. It's painful for me too.
"Well no one asked you to come along," I spit, more harshly than I mean to.
Unexpectedly Peeta laughs and gives me a tender look. All I want to do is deck him for that. "Do you really think I would be OK with you coming here all by yourself? You'd never come home."
"What? So you think I'd ditch you and stay with Gale?" It's a low remark but I say it anyway. Anything to get rid of that dumb smile. It's on his mind. I know.
"No." He says smile slackening into a tight line. "I trust you…but…it's him I don't trust. If you went alone I wasn't sure what state you would come back in. Hurt. Depressed. Confused."
I don't say anything to that. Because what is there to say? Peeta's already giving so much to give me this chance. Giving up a couple days of salary for this, not that that matters, we're doing pretty well.
"You know what?" I say, legs kicking methodically against the counter doors.
"What?" He asks rinsing off the last plate and stacking it on the others.
"I might take Addalyn up on the two week stay." I say, shocking even myself as I say it. "I don't know how long this could take. But you could go home if you want."
"No I'll stay. I'll just have to call Mitch and Hazelle in the morning and tell them. It seems Gale lost the argument."
"A once in a lifetime event," I assure him. Hopping off the counters I stifle a yawn. I land wrong and pain shoots up my ankle, I've overshot my landing and flew forward. Resisting the urge to cry out I grab the countertop. I'll manage, it's not broken, Gale just twisted it way too far. Sprained at the most. Trying to keep the pain from my voice I say; "I'll be upstairs."
Grimacing I leave the kitchen ignoring Peeta's concerned, "Katniss?" following me up the stairs. Alone I can finally limp to our room. The door at the end of the hall opens and a tall figure darts out of the room.
Gale surveys me for a second, eyes traveling down to my ankle and the gingerly way I'm putting weight on it. Eyes right back up to my face with no sorry. Nothing. His face is nothing. It says nothing. It's just an empty slate.
Having no spare words, kind or angry, I cross in front of him and kick open the door. Words swell into my mouth, come crashing down on my lips, unable to hold them in place. They fly into the air and fill the hallway, circling our heads. "I can't believe you," I spit through clenched teeth. Shaking my head with disgust I slam the door shut behind me. "I can't believe you Gale Hawthorne," I say quietly, to myself now.
I can feel him in the hallway. Feel his eyes bore into the back of the door where my back rests. He doesn't answer and I wonder if he feels the same way I do.
"I can't believe you either," He says to himself, after a few seconds there's a quiet knock on the door followed by the turn of a door handle. I can do nothing but step away and watch it open. Expecting to see Gale. Wishing it was him so I could confront him. Let him know how disgusting he is.
It's not Gale. And not for one second did I actually think it would be. Peeta closes the door behind him. Brief glimpse of Gale's face as he stares at me in apparent shock before the door closes. Good. Another door closes down the hall.
Peeta stares at the door for a moment, biting his lip. I can see a petal of blood blossom. "I almost feel sorry for him." He says after a long minute, sitting on the bed and pulling off his top.
"You're kidding me!" I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him in disbelief.
"I said almost," He shakes his head. "I mean if you look at it from his point of view it's like he's being attacked in his own house. From every angle. And then us showing up on his doorstep, married probably set off a couple of things that he was trying to forget. I mean he lost you and packed up and moved to a place he hated."
"That was by his choice though." I say sitting next to him.
"Alright so most of it was by choice."
"Most?"
"He probably didn't want to leave in the first place. But we were in Twelve and he probably thought it wasn't big enough. He'd run in to us too often. Think about how painful that would be."
"Then he shouldn't have left. His family is there." I have no sympathy for him. It's all gone.
"Yes but his dad died there."
"Do you see me running? My mother left me, my dad died there, your entire family died in that town. We stayed."
"It's different. A broken heart is different."
I roll my eyes and fall back onto the bed. "Why are you arguing this point?"
"I'm trying to see it his way." He says simply. Shrugging his shoulder and falling back next to me. Staring at the same point on the ceiling as I am.
"He created the bombs." I say, tearing down any hope of redemption Gale had.
His voice is a whisper. "I know."
I roll off the bed, catching myself at the last second. I pull my bag towards me and paw through for something to sleep in.
"But that doesn't mean he sent the OK for the bombs to kill her."
My eyes sting, why did I have to bring this topic up? "That doesn't matter," I say harshly pulling off my top and replacing it immediately with the other. "He created them. It's enough." When I pull on my pajama pants my foot catches, ankle twisting. Closing my eyes a flare of red burns across my eyelids. Red from pain. Blood forms in my mouth, sticky and sweet. I find myself biting the inside of my cheek and stop myself at once. I grit my teeth and yank the pants up. Pulling the drawstring tight.
I hoist myself onto the bed and swing my legs over.
"Katniss what happened to your ankle?" Peeta grabs my hand in alarm. Eyes travelling past my knees, taking in the swollen mass. I don't really have an ankle anymore.
"I twisted it," I lie defensively. "When I jumped down from the counters."
Peeta glares at me. His face furious. I try to keep a steady face as I look back in his eyes. Make him understand. Which he won't. I know he won't.
I sigh and lean forward, running my fingers through his silky hair. Fingers snagging on the loose knots. "You hair is graying." I comment trying to shift the subject away from this one.
One of his hands grabs both of my wrists, pulling them from his hair. He doesn't release my wrists. "Don't," He says in a tone I've never heard before. He sounds close to snapping. "Try and change the subject."
He begins to mutter under his breath in an incoherent stream. "Does this hurt?" He asks bending my ankle. It takes all my restraint not to jerk away from him. Despite saying nothing he seems to notice my pain.
"He hurt you didn't he?" He whispers almost to himself. I don't answer hoping maybe he'll just let it drop. "Didn't he?" He demands, my wrists slowly turning numb.
I yank my wrists out of his grasp, rubbing them, trying to work feeling into them again. I don't answer him directly. "It's no big deal Peeta." Trying to shrug it off is my only other option.
"No big deal?" He says taking deep breaths in an effort to calm his rage. "Katniss. He hurt…you." He appears to be having difficulties getting those words out. Like they're causing him pain.
"Who said Gale hurt me?" Why am I still bothering with this lie? Peeta sees right through it. It would be easier to admit it.
"Why are you lying?"
This is the weird part of all this. He knows I'm lying. I know I'm lying but suddenly I feel defensive. Like I suddenly have to prove myself. "I'm not lying." I growl leaning in toward him.
"Oh really?" He breathes sounding dubious.
"Yes," With gritted teeth, barely moving lips I lean in closer. Glaring harder than ever.
He gets up with a huff, almost stomping his way across the room. At first I think he's just pacing until I realize there's a method in it. He's moving toward the door. To do what I don't know exactly but it can't be hard to guess.
"No!"
He turns looking surprised by my protest. "What?"
"I said no. Not tonight."
He raises an eyebrow. "Katniss I don't hate many people."
I stare at him in sudden confusion. What does this have to do with any of this? If he's trying to change the conversation it's only making me more irritated.
He takes a seat on the end of the bed. The sudden shift of weight, so close to my ankle, sends a throbbing stab of red hot pain up my ankle. "I don't hate anyone actually. I just severely dislike some. Coin, Snow, Cato -"
"Gale." I finish his sentence bringing my knees up to my chest and hugging them.
He doesn't answer me, but he leans forward to capture my lips. It's difficult with my knees in the way. "You're seeing a healer tomorrow."
"No. It'll be fine." I say firmly. I don't want to give Gale the satisfaction of knowing he's hurt me.
"If you don't do something about it, it'll get worse."
"Well then I'll get an icepack and sleep with it."
Peeta shakes his head. "Forget it. I'll go find one."
When the door clicks shut behind him I turn over onto my stomach, burying my face into my pillow. Why does everything have to be a big deal? Not everything has to be complicated.
How can Gale be so coldhearted? Does he really despise me so much that he would put my humiliation before Addalyn's own sorrow and regret? Just for the sake of making me embarrassed? And I know the truth. The cold hard truth. I don't want to face it but I know it's there. Right there. I know that Gale, when riled up enough crosses boundaries he would never usually. I know my answer, hard as it is; yes. Yes he would.
I have big news on my profile if you want to check it out. And a poll for you guys to vote on as an early holiday gift if you want. I didn't do anything last year which makes me sad but I'm here to make it up this year. Anyway thank you to my readers. I couldn't do this without you.