A/N: This is another kind of short chapter. Can you think of anything else I could add? I like how it ends, so I want to keep that as the stopping point, but if you have any ideas for how I could add more detail to what's already in there or something new I could add, I'd love to hear it!

As always, thanks for reading! (And a special thank you to the small group that faithfully provides reviews-y'all are making me a very happy person :)


The next morning, we wake as usual, neither of us mentioning the late night conversation. I kneel in the tent and reach for my boots.

"How would you feel about staying here today?" Gale asks, leaning up on his elbows.

"Why?"

"I'm tired," he says with a yawn. "We've been hiking for a month and I could really use a lazy day to sit around and rest."

I actually kind of like being tired as it prevents my mind from wandering to unpleasant thoughts, but Gale does look exhausted. Plus, once we reach the cabin, I'm not sure what we'll do, so arriving one day later won't be the end of the world. I agree to his plan and then continue lacing up my boots.

Once outside, I ignite a fire and warm some leftover turkey and katniss roots we gathered from along the riverbank. Gale must be taking his relaxation seriously because he has still not bothered to join me. After finishing my portion, I carry his breakfast to the tent. When I unzip the door, he's lying on his back staring at the ceiling.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah, thanks," he says, sitting up.

I hand him the food. "What's the big plan for your lazy day?"

"A nap."

"That's it?"

He shrugs. "What are you doing?"

"I guess I'll hunt a little. My bow could use some work. Maybe I'll go for a swim back by that waterfall."

Scrunching his nose, he says, "You should definitely go for a swim—your odor is becoming overwhelming."

I laugh and then say, "I'm surprised you can even notice with the stench that follows you around."

"Good point. I'll add bath to my 'to do' list for the day." He finishes his food and looks at the sleeping bag.

"So, are you starting with the nap then?"

"No, no. I should get up. I'm going to place a few snares," he says, stretching his legs.

"How long will you be gone?"

"An hour or two. Do you want to join me?"

I shake my head. "I think a little time apart would be good for both of us."

He grips his chest dramatically and pouts. "Are you saying that you're tired of my company after only a month?"

"I was tired of you after the first day," I say with a smile and exit the tent.

"That hurts!" he yells through the open door.

A few minutes later, I begin making the short trek to the waterfall, excited to finally rinse away the layer of grime that has accumulated on me for days. When I reach the large collecting pool, I lean over and dip my hand in the water. It's cool, but at least the sun is shining brightly today, so I'll dry off in no time.

I strip down to my underwear and slowly enter the river. As I walk closer to the waterfall, the pool deepens and I dive under. Goosebumps form when the icy tendrils wrap around my body. I swim a couple laps to warm up and then stand under the stream of water, allowing the pressure to scrub away the caked-on dirt. When I'm finished, my skin in cold and raw, reminding me of the damage my prep team always caused.

Shivering, I exit the water and quickly dress. The sun's mid-morning rays shine brightly on the opposite side of the river where I notice a large flat-topped boulder jutting into the pool. I circle my way around the waterline, getting misted by a fine spray as I walk under the waterfall. When I reach the boulder, I climb on top. Drenched in sunlight, I recline on my elbows, keeping my face towards the warm rays. A while later, as the chill in my body finally begins to fade, I see Gale heading down the path from our campsite.

When he reaches the edge of the river, he spots me along the other side and waves. "How's the water?" he yells.

"Cold!" I reply loudly, so he'll hear me over the crash of the waterfall.

He pulls off his shirt and begins unbuttoning his pants.

"Gale!"

He looks up alarmed. "What?"

"Could you keep your pants on?"

"No, they'll get wet!" he yells from across the pool.

"I really don't want to see you in your underwear!"

"Then don't look!"

I scowl, but cover my eyes with my hands. After a moment I hear a splash. "Are you in the water?"

"Yes!"

I open my eyes and find him bobbing in the middle of the deep part of the pool. His hair is wet and matted to his head. It's significantly longer than he usually keeps it, curling around his ears and falling into his eyes.

"You need a haircut!" I shout to him.

He gracefully swims closer to my rock. When he's only a few feet away, he asks, "Are you volunteering?"

"Do you have scissors?"

"A knife."

"You trust me to cut your hair with a knife?"

"It's not like I've got anyone to impress out here."

He's got a point. I smile and lie back on the rock, closing my eyes. The rhythmic splashing of his arms gliding through the water in an effortless backstroke lulls me to that state very close to sleep. I'm vaguely aware of my surroundings, but too far removed to react. I sense a shadow drift over me—maybe a cloud passing overhead? Suddenly, I'm being pelted with hundreds of tiny, frigid drops. That's all I need to wake fully. I jump up, convinced it's raining, only to find Gale standing in front of me shaking his mop of hair.

I scream and reach for his arm to try and stop him, but he's faster than me. Laughing, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tight against his chest. Then, with one long stride, we're both airborne. I try to push myself away, but he holds me tight and we hit the water moments later. My body goes under and the cold hits me like a jolt of electricity. I quickly kick my feet. As soon as my head clears the surface of the water, I'm screaming at him.

"Gale!"

He's to my left, still laughing.

"What was that for?!" I ask, my teeth chattering.

"Swimming is more fun with someone else."

I narrow my eyes at him and begin making my way to the shore, although my clothes slow me down considerably. He floats up next to me. "Come on. Have some fun."

"It's cold!"

"You'll warm up after you move around a bit."

"I'm getting out."

"You used to be more fun," he says grumpily and then closes the distance to the shore in a few strokes. Standing, he exits the pond giving me an unobstructed view of his backside clad only in a threadbare pair of boxers clinging to every curve of his body.

"Gale! You don't have any pants on!"

Giving me a rude gesture with his hand, he walks over to his discarded clothing.

I turn my head, focusing on anything other than the half-naked man in front of me and exit the pond soon after him. I sneak a peek in his direction, just as his pants skim over his hips.

Walking purposefully toward him, I shout, "You can't be mad at me! You're the one who threw me in the water!"

His back is still to me as he buttons his pants. He doesn't say anything.

"And besides…," I continue, walking up right behind him. But what I see stops me mid-sentence. How have I not noticed this before? The water glistens on his back, accentuating the burnished patchwork that is his skin. Dark scarlet marks replace his olive coloring, criss-crossing haphazardly and giving the sense of a macabre camouflage.

Reflexively, I reach out and touch a raised scar, tracing my fingers along its contour from his left shoulder to his right hip. Gale stands motionless as I gently move my hand along his back. Suddenly, I'm transported to my dining room where he laid on our table near death for days while my mother tended to him after his ruthless lashing. I recall clearly how I caressed his cheek, his brow, his lips. How I kissed him while he drifted in and out of consciousness. The anger I felt for the peacekeepers and Snow come rushing back in full force. But it's worse now because it's compounded, magnified by Coin and all the other atrocities we've been subjected to. In his back I see the deaths of my father, Cinna, Rue, Prim, Finnick, and Peeta. My throat constricts, a gravelly sob escapes, and I imagine losing Gale, too.

I slowly lower my lips to one of his scars, tasting his salty skin. I savor the warmth against my mouth, the life emanating from him, as a tear slides down my cheek.

Abruptly, Gale turns towards me, his lips traveling across my cheek and finding my mouth with a sense of urgency. His hands inch upward along my back to the nape of my neck. He holds me firmly as his lips take possession of mine. The fury, the fire I feel is reflected back to me in the intensity with which he claims my mouth, my body, my entire being. A deep need begins to develop inside of me; it's a throbbing in the pit of my stomach that gradually spreads and magnifies, awaking parts of me that have been dormant for months.

My body's reaction surprises me—my lips press against his confidently and vigorously, matching him move for move. I run my fingers down his jawline, into his beard, finally gripping his face resolutely. Tears continue to stream from my eyes, falling to where our mouths meet. But even the moisture can't suppress the burning trails left by Gale's lips.

He moves his hands to the sides of my face and pulls away slightly. Pain resonates in his eyes, and I feel the electric charge between us shift. We're no longer being driven by rage and passion, but rather succumbing to what we both need. He slowly, tenderly kisses the corner of my eye, my cheekbone, the edge of my nose, following the path of my tears.

I knot my fingers in his hair and close my eyes. Drawing his body even closer, I rest one hand on his chest to feel his pounding heart, his life force.

Between kisses, he breathlessly says, "I love you, Katniss."