Chapter 3

I stopped, chest heaving, and realized that I sounded like I was whining. I had enough reason to, but I wasn't a whiny person and hoped that the Games wouldn't turn me into one of those people who would shoot down anyone's problems with a mighty "Well, I almost had my leg burnt off."

Gale stood silently for a moment. It was obviously new to him to not be the one ranting, but the quiet bystander. He took a breath. "But you still went to seek him out. When they said you could both win. You knew he was badly wounded and wouldn't be of any help to you, and yet you went to find him."

"Of course I did. I could've left him alone, defenseless, to die—making me look heartless to the boy who all of Panem knew to truly love me, but I didn't… I would have lost sponsors like flies, and even if I did win alone, I would have to come home to a twelve that sees a girl who had a chance to save the boy from her own home—and turned her back on him to claim her own victory."

"But it's the Games," he insisted. "People are heartless. People do cruel things to survive. You wouldn't have been the first. And I wouldn't have hated you to come home alone…"

"For different reasons." I re-collected my armload of game, turned on my heel, and headed off toward the fence.

Something heavy and unstructured smacked into the back of my head, snapping my chin to my chest momentarily. I froze, muscles tensing, and turned slowly back around to see the rabbit I'd thrown sitting at my feet. My gaze swept from the rabbit up to Gale's face, which he was trying to stick with anger, but had amusement bursting through the cracks.

Keep it serious, I told myself. You're mad at him. He's making you angry. Walk away. Walk—

But I'm particularly bad at following orders. I threw the goose in my right hand with surprisingly good aim—he flitted out of the way, narrowly missing my feathered projectile. I hardly had to time to remind myself I'm mad before he'd scooped up the bird and chucked it at my gut. I laughed—laughed—as I skipped out of the way, and soon enough game was flying, laughter bounced off the stoic trees, and I'd entirely forgotten why I had been angry.

After a piece of immeasurable time, our crazed laughter descended slowly into chuckles and eventually just content smiles that stuck to our faces as we went about picking up our battlefield. Our crop had certainly suffered from the game-war; most were too mangled and beat-up to be of any worth for even the Hob. We both realized that, but decided to bring them anyway in hopes they would taste the same though they looked like they'd been through a vicious tornado and back.

I headed for the last goose left on the ground, bending to add it to my armful—so did Gale. Our heads knocked comically, and we both straightened up, rubbing our foreheads. He met my gaze, finally, and I was surprised to find those grey eyes to be bemused, lovingly interested, yet slightly dark.

"What?" I found myself snapping.

"Nothing," he said, taking a cautious step toward me. "Just seems to me… that you are here."

And suddenly his rough hand was on my jaw, and he was kissing me as I'd never been kissed before. My poor, abused game thudded to the ground and my arms reached around his neck, liking this odd moment, savoring the possibility that maybe my fate isn't completely sealed. Maybe I have options…

He smiled down at me for a moment after we'd both drawn back for air. "Better than Peeta?" he asked, slightly breathless, hands dropping down my shoulders to rest on my waist.

"Yeah," I breathed, not even stopping to think. There might have been a few that came close, but all the Peeta moments were now shrouded in guilt in my memory, and I felt stupid for not seeing before that it hadn't been an act for him. Gale, along with the rest of Panem, apparently hadn't missed that minor detail.

"Good," he said with a triumphant grin. He untangled himself and stooped to gather our forgotten and highly abused crop of the day, and it took me a moment of foggy thoughts until I dropped to help him.

"Can't believe she took them," Gale laughed as we headed back up the road to my new house in Victor Village. I'd been sad to move out of the old one—so many memories take root there—but I wouldn't, apparently, be a proper victor if I weren't in the Village.

"She's just going to cut them up anyway," I shrugged.

We walked for a while in silence, my shoulder bumping his upper arm occasionally.

"So," he finally coughed. "What's next for the Victors?"

"The tour, I'd imagine," I groan. "With a bunch of other frou-frou interviews and stuff…" I trailed off into my own pool of dread.

"You'll be fine," Gale consoled lamely. "Can't be worse than the Games themselves."

"I guess…"

We turned the corner into the cul-de-sac lined with twelve gleaming, huge white houses. Their outsides looked fresh, the gardens impeccably kept, everything glossed to be impressive. And fake. Unhomey.

"Home, sweet home," I muttered under my breath as Gale eyed the houses with a judging eye.

"Well, they're certainly… big."

I snorted. "Thanks. How're we supposed to know…?"

But just then Prim burst out of one of the front doors, fiddling restlessly with a ribbon on one of her braids. "There you are," she called, relief coloring her cheeks. "We—uh—need you."

My brow furrowed at her tone. Trying to be light, but worried underneath.

"I better go," I said, turning back to my hunting partner.

"Yeah…" he smiled at me for just a second before reaching down to gently kiss my upper lip, just once, leaving me feeling too warm and frozen.

"Katniss?" Prim called again. There was a slight giggle in my name.

Brushing away any unrelated thoughts, I headed off towards my new house, where my little sister stood—who was worried about something—and yet managing to giggle.

"So… are you guys…" Prim asked, leading me into the spacious house. Clean, empty air filled the place for lack of life—no plants, no people in my sight. Everything was washed out and pale, made of all flat edges and corners. It was spacious… but I couldn't picture myself living in such a place.

"What? No. I mean, kinda but—it's just a…" I sighed. "I don't know. Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"That you don't know, or that you were kissing Gale outside?" she said with a slightly tense yet mischievous smile. How she managed to have so many emotions at the same time was beyond me. I expected her to explode at any minute.

"I mean," she continued, "it was only a matter of time before you guys were like that—he's so handsome and you two spend like every day together, but I thought you and Peeta…?"

"Don't tell. Please."

She shrugged and nodded before taking a tight turn into a kitchen that was big enough to cook a Capitol meal in. And prepare it. And have ten people eat it. But I didn't have time to admire the appliances, because sitting on one of the glossy stools by the counter, with a shock of pink hair and a neon green clipboard, sat Effie Trinket.

Sorry they're so short. I have a short attention span =).
Hope you like-feel free to review.

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