As Katniss walked back to her house from Haymitch's, she was expecting a sleepless night, but once she had showered and got into bed she was aware of how tired she was. She had been sleeping so badly recently and all the crying she had been doing had really taken it out of her. The alcohol she had drunk earlier also aided her into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When she awoke she was aware of her headache, the beginnings of a hangover. She showered and dressed, drank some water to re-hydrate her pounding head and left. She was too nervous to eat, what if Gale wouldn't listen to her? What if he didn't believe her? Scenarios ran through her head during her journey to their usual meeting place in the woods. Unsurprisingly he wasn't there. Unsure where to look next she decided to head to where they had first made love, she doubted he would be there but she wanted to revisit the area.
She moved quietly through the trees, still keeping an eye out for Gale, or something that would indicate his whereabouts, but she didn't spot anything, maybe he was avoiding the woods? She was only meters away when she heard him; grateful that she was approaching from behind she remained hidden and watched him. His shoulders shuddered with his grating sobs, she had never seen him cry before and the sight of it broke her heart. He was standing in front of the tree they'd made love against, in the bark there was a carved heart, she could tell it was a few days old, he must have done it after they'd slept together but before he'd found out about Peeta. Gale rubbed his face with his hands, wiping away the tears. He took out his hunting knife and began mutilating the carved heart, making it unrecognisable.
Katniss covered her mouth with her hand, trying to silence her own sobs. Seeing Gale in this much pain was too much. Suddenly Gale turned, he had heard her muffled cry and he moved towards the sound till he spotted her. The knife was still in his hand and he didn't say a word, he just stared at her, his face twisted with betrayal and pain.
"Please let me explain," she begged, "I had to, it was the deal, I had to keep you safe!" He had been about to leave but what she had said caught his interest. She had mentioned a deal earlier in the week, but never actually explained what she meant by it.
"What deal?" He asked, his voice harsh.
"President Snow said he'd kill you… unless I slept with Peeta." She choked out, biting her lip to stop herself whimpering like a wounded animal. Gale frowned, unsure what to believe.
"Why?" He demanded, still clutching his knife at his side, as if she was about to attack him. When she replied she didn't meet his eyes.
"He… he wants to record it… sell it to the people of the Capitol." Her reply was barely audible. She was visibly ashamed and covered her face with her hands, feeling sick with herself. He didn't want to believe her but he could see she was telling the truth.
"What the fuck…" he muttered, he was shocked that she had been defiled in this way. He couldn't believe the Capitol would stoop so low, but one look at Katniss, hiding her face in her hands, shaking with silent tears, told him they could, they had no limits.
He moved to hug her but as he came closer to her the image of her with Peeta filled his mind and he couldn't bring himself to take her in his arms, instead he just awkwardly patted her shoulder. She lowered her hands from her face, but wouldn't meet his eye, "I'm so sorry," she wept, "I just couldn't let them kill you… I'd rather you hated me than let you die."
"I don't hate you," he told her gently, she looked at him hopefully and he looked away, "I just need time to get my head around this… it's a lot to deal with." She bit her lip and nodded and watched as he walked away from her. She felt wretched but at least he knew now.
She stayed in the woods for a long time after he'd left, she felt slightly calmer there, she sat in the clearing and thought about everything, trying to make sense of it all in her own head. Gale was right, it was a lot to deal with. Finally she rose from the damp ground, she went to the mutilated heart on the tree, now just a series of jagged cuts in the bark. After gathering some berries from nearby she crushed them into her palm, then, dipping her fingertip in the red juice, she drew over the scared bark, another heart. It dripped messily, but she liked the effect, love was messy. She pressed her lips to the bark, rubbed her hands clean on her trousers and went home.