author's note: Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and support! PhoenixGrace, you have been an awesome beta. This is the last chapter of this story, so please enjoy! :)
disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, plots, vaguely familiar song lyrics and settings belong to their respective owners: Suzanne Collins and Taylor Swift. I do not own the Hunger Games and Sparks Fly. No copyright infringement is intended.
drop everything now
By kelster07
Chapter 3: kiss me in the pouring rain
Clove is having an awful day.
Her mother's health is quickly dwindling and she hates that she can't do anything about it. It makes her feel helpless, useless. She missed the bus in the morning and ended up walking to school in the wind, arriving half an hour late and with messy hat hair—caused without a hat, which made it even worse—and had to walk up in front of the school for prize-giving. She almost failed her killer English exam and forgot to bring her lunch. Glimmer and Cato had started dating today—everyone knew it was inevitable—and she knows it's childish but she feels left out. She's happy for them, she really is. Or least, she tries to tell herself that. But she's a good friend and she knows she has no right to interfere. Her own problems don't matter at all.
A year has passed and now Marvel and her are good friends. They've come closer since that day at the bookshop and have come to a point where idle touches, lingering glances and random laughs can go unquestioned. They're friends and Clove can't stop wishing it was more, but she'll never admit it. She knows what it's like to depend on someone. Rely on them. And she hates it so she stays away from him.
This week she's seen him with another girl. She doesn't know who she is, but she has blonde hair, a slim figure, perfectly blue eyes and is absolutely drop-dead stunning. It makes her feels worse about her plain brown hair, short limbs and distasteful freckles. She hasn't spoken to him in exactly five days—it's a long time for their standards—and she doesn't plan on doing so anytime soon.
She walks over to the lifeless bus stop, but she's pushed over and the groceries in her arm go flying out. She grabs them quickly but at the same time another arm reaches down. Their fingers touch and Clove jumps—it's like she's a kid again and has been touched by someone who's rubbed their feet one too many times on the carpet—and she feels sparks fly.
She looks up and almost gasps as she sees the strikingly green eyes that could only belong to one person. So much for a cool composure. She scrambles backwards and snatches the bottle of milk he's holding and steps onto the bus before he can say a word.
The bus is full except for two seats near the back. She contemplates standing but she know it's ridiculous and won't give her a reprieve anyway.
"Hey. What's up?"
His voice is sincerely concerned when he takes the seat next to her. She doesn't say anything yet; just watches the rain drops trickling down the window. The weather almost worse than this time last year. It's below freezing today and she's forget her swear again. She won't accept his, though, no good can come from it so she and shivers against the cold.
"Hi," she says blankly after contemplating every possible reason not to.
She really can't help that her words come out clipped and short.
"How was your day?" The edges of his lips crinkle upwards and she curses at herself when something inside of her melts. It's not fair, how much he has a hold over her—and hell, he doesn't even know it.
"Fine."
The banter goes on like this. If he notices her cold shoulder he doesn't say anything, and for that she's grateful. He's always been like this—sensing the people around him and she loves it. Then she remembers that she can't have him because she's not blonde and beautiful and she's not the girl he's been seeing more and more of. Wishful thinking won't turn into reality, she knows. But for now, she lets go off all grudges and simply enjoys his presence. When he's around, it's like all her walls come crashing down and their quiet conversation is the only thing that exists in the universe. She's happy. Until the bomb drops.
"What? Got a special girl?" Every time she laughs and jokes around with him he feels a dagger wrench deeper in her heart. She feels like she's digging her own grave.
The conversation takes a more dire tone and she holds her breath as he runs his fingers through his sandy brown hair and sighs, "Yeah."
She tries her hardest to hide her disappointment because she knows what's coming.
"I know this girl and she's beautiful—both inside and out, hell, she's perfect. But-"
She knows who he's talking about. She doesn't know why she let herself fantasize about such impossible things in the first place. In the of her mind, she always knew this would happen but she didn't expect it to be so soon. She swears on her life that it won't happen again and she'll try her darn hardest to let go of all strings.
Clove Sevina doesn't need to hear about his Miss Perfect. She's already had the worst day and now this? She can't look at him without feeling a slap on her face. She blinks the tears away and gets off the bus, groceries in hand. The sky is dark and stormy overhead and the rain starts to lightly fall. Clove can't believe she's let herself get this far with him, and she wants to run away from everything. She's stupid. Very, very stupid.
He follows her off into the abandoned car park and she runs faster. It doesn't help—he's on track team and is one of the fastest in his division.
"Clo," he says, but she turns away. She won't let him see her cry, she won't.
"Clo," he tries again. She's stubborn and she can tell he knows she won't budge, even without glancing over her shoulder. But she isn't expecting the hand on her cheek. Cautiously, she turns around, eyes still trained on the ground. Warmth crawls through her body but she feels even worse now. She doesn't need a freaking Superman because she's not like all those other girls. Droplets are spitting everywhere and the rain crashes down on them but she doesn't care—she knows she's being self-centred and selfish and she really doesn't care.
"Clo," he whispers. His hand strokes her cheek and she doesn't notice their closeness until now. "Please. Talk to me. What's wrong?"
His piercing green eyes are only a few centimetres away from her and when she looks up she finally sees them up close. All she sees is goodness. Pure, genuine good, nothing like she's ever seen before. The emerald tone is so vivid she feels like she's falling into an endless abyss.
If only it wasn't so close to the truth.
She isn't used to the intimacy and she pulls away, somehow scared and frustrated and tingling and confused and everything in between. She doesn't like how much she's let him in and she almost regrets that fateful meeting a year ago. Clove hasn't cried in exactly fifteen years—not since her foot was run over by a taxi when she was three—and she's not going to start now.
"Clo. Please," he says again. She forces herself to look up again and they're so close it makes her mind spin in circles. His lips are centimetres away and she can't focus on anything but him. She doesn't notice the rain drenching her dress and she doesn't particularly care either. She can't keep doing this, she thinks. She's not going to last much longer.
On impulse, she stands on her tiptoes—why is he so damn tall?—and presses her lips to his. It's soft and it feels nice, but she just doesn't know-
And then she comes to her senses. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Sorry," she gasps, leaping a metre back as if he's burnt her. She can't believe what she just did and prays that the ground will swallow her up right here and now. She runs back but hears steady footsteps behind her. A storm is brewing and she thinks that it's almost like a metaphor of life right now.
She run across the car park—she's having a rotten day, so of course she slips on the grating. Her arms flail as she braces herself for the hard landing.
It doesn't come.
Instead, strong arms wrap go around her waist before she touches the wet sidewalk. This time, she's not surprised and she doesn't stumble along the pavement. Her eyes go wide and she tries to bolt, but his arm is firmly around her wrist.
"Clo. You do know I was talking about you, right?" he whispers, and she flinches at his touch because she feels electricity shoot up her arm. She only notices now that instead of putting an arm around her, he laces their fingers together. She doesn't expect it when this time he leans in. His hand cups her cheek and she feels like jelly. His lips part slightly and her knees weaken. She can feel him smile and she almost scowls—but stops herself at the last second. He steadies her and she feels the tingling feeling in her stomach spread like wildfire. She wraps her arms around his neck and leans in, deepening the kiss.
It's pouring rain but neither of them care. Maybe it's not the effect he has on her, or the same effect she has on him. Maybe it's the way they look at each other, and maybe it's the way he smiles and she laughs. Maybe it's the way that caramel and biscuit ice cream are both their favourites—as well as soy lattés, or maybe it's the way they're both so different but still the same, as cheesy as it sounds.
Maybe it's just them.
author's note: They. Are. So. Damn. Cute.
Anyway, that's all for this story. Thank you so much for reading this, I honestly cannot express how happy I am towards everyone who's read this. Hope you all liked it, maybe leave a review and give some feedback? Thoughts? Concrit? Anything is welcome! x
