A/N: I realized yesterday that it's been a month since I updated, so I quickly finished/edited this. I'll more than likely start updating regularly again soon. I didn't exactly plan the games... but I did plan the rest of the series! The overall plot twists, etc... *headdesk* I should really plan things more carefully next time.
In my defense, I was trying to figure out my headcanon for vampire biology. Then I realized that every fanfic out there says something different. Then I remembered that this is my fanfic, so I can do whatever the flipping flop I want. So, yeah... this chapter is a bit of a filler. An extraordinarily long filler. But extraordinarly necessary filler. Whatever, though, it's fluff, and I felt like we needed fluff after all of the angst/wangst/action in the chapters previous.
After Fire
For a moment, Edward is completely motionless.
Then he starts laughing, manically, humorlessly, in between gasps of, "I'm alive." Then he groans as if the action of laughing is painful, and he is still. He manages to push himself onto his back. His breathing is heavy and labored, like he's just resurfacing from days underwater. I say nothing. I only watch, desperately wishing I could do something to help.
On my hands and knees, I crawl towards him. I can't feel relief, not yet. "Are you alright?" I ask hesitantly.
"Bella," he says quietly. "For once, no. I am most definitely not alright."
"Can you sit up?" I ask.
"Mayb— agh!" He tries, and he falls backwards. Then he sighs. "No. No, I cannot sit up."
A reluctant gob of venom slides down my throat. "Why not?" I ask quickly. I know. I don't want to...
Still trying to sit up, he pauses, bringing a hesitant hand around to his back. He winces and collapses completely. He grimaces, then gives a weak, not to mention late, "Ow."
"What happened?"
He glares at me and I would blush if I could. Then he softens his expression a little. "Help me up, Bella?" I swallow, then nod. Wrapping my arms around his shoulder, I try to help him stand. It isn't easy work, because despite his overly calm demeanor, he is in anguish. I can tell from the labored breathing and his expression and... everything. So I settle for helping him sit upright.
"What hurts?" I ask stupidly. I know the answer... I don't want to...
He flinches again, and I have to catch him to keep him from falling backwards again. "My back..." he manages. I swallow, then sigh. I know next to nothing about vampire healing.
Closing my eyes, I start to formulate a plan. "Okay." I blink. "We're just going to have to take a look at it, and I'll see what I can do... um..." I start thinking about burns in humans. The first thing to do is ice the injury. No, the first thing to do is look at the injury. "Let me take a look."
Edward winces, and I do the same.
"Well, then, I guess we just have to..."
"No, you're right," he says. "We have to look at it. But... sorry. Dislocation is a lot easier to treat than burns."
"Well..." I pause to swallow. I am now convinced that it is possible for me to feel nausea; I've felt it enough times these past few days. "Does it ever heal? Can it heal?"
He tries to turn to me, but the action makes him hiss. "Not... not by itself."
"What do you mean, 'by itself?'"
"I mean... yes, it can heal, but it needs—" He draws out the word, trying not to cry out. "Chemicals. Sometimes natural remedies can help with the pain, but we didn't even know that it was possible until a decade or two ago. Even then, there's a limit to what it can do. It might help if we had a bloodstream." Edward sighs.
Blood. Alright. Blood. That's a good idea. I remember how hunting makes them... makes us stronger. Then I remember the bitter, metallic, chemical taste to the Capitol synthesized blood. Could it be on purpose? Is it for healing purposes? "I'm sorry, Edward, but I still need to take a look."
"Do you?"
"Yes," I say, a little too firmly. Perhaps I can convince him that I know what to do. Still, he must know that I am completely lost.
Something about the prospect of taking his shirt off makes me uncomfortable. It isn't like I haven't seen him without it before, and it isn't like there's much left of the filthy rag, anyway, but it's the fact that I am on camera. Swallowing, I move behind him and, eyes closed, inch the ragged cloth off of him. He cries out once. I lose my progress, dropping it. "No, Bella. Just... just do it quickly."
Very carefully, I attempt it again. I can hear him grinding his teeth, but somehow Edward remains silent. Once it is gone, I can see the scald marks. The fire has seared scars onto his skin, the flame trails wrapping around to his ribcage, like hands ready to crush him. I can see that they've seared straight through skin and muscle and almost down to the bone. Streaks of pure white are already forming. The stench of burning incense is in the air. Worst of all are the deep cracks forming, still creaking and widening, overflowing with ash and oozing venom.
I must have gasped or flinched or done something else to tip him off, because Edward notices my discomfort. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the reek, I try to capture the demeanor of a doctor handling a particularly bad case. It is not an easy task. "Well," I begin. The word trails off, lost.
"That bad?" he asks stiffly, and I wince like it's me who's in agony.
"So-so," I reply, shrugging like it's no big deal. "You should have seen me after the wolf Mutts." I refrain from telling him that I began healing immediately after I removed the poison. "First thing is to, um, clean it..." Probably. There is a slight hissing sound, like more venom escaping, and it makes me wince. "Okay, Edward, I'm sorry, I really hate to ask you this, but do you know anything about vampire healing?"
He shakes his head, but his expression afterwards tells me he regrets it.
"We're going to have to experiment a bit," I admit.
Edward's eyes widen. "No! No, really, no. Any damage you do is more than likely permanent."
"Well... maybe we should get you to the river. It's close by, we could rinse out the ash." A dozen horrible thoughts occur to me, but I push them to the back of my mind. "You're going to have to stand." But how can he, without my help? Half of those muscles have been burned away by the fire. Edward just nods and I practically drag him to his feet.
"Bella, you really should just—"
"No!" I say, too loudly. "I'm not going to leave you."
"But you should."
"How would that benefit either of us? I mean, we've already established that we can't be apart. It always ends up with us nearly dead."
"Everything leads to us being nearly dead, Bella. Remember Victoria?"
Edward, really. We're on TV right now, and I don't think the Capitol would appreciate us talking about the "accident" that brought us here. So I nod.
"Maybe we're just not right for each other. Maybe we should just—"
"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," I tell him.
He smiles sadly. "Yeah. But really. You have to admit, we've had some pretty bad luck." Between sadistic vampires, angry Volturi, bad visions, newborn armies, and Reapings, I have to agree with him.
"Hmm," I say. "Maybe it's not us, it's just this jungle. Bad things happen here."
He tries to hold back a half-hearted chuckle but it's already coming out. Edward hisses in pain, breathing through his teeth, and finally just says, "We should get going before our luck runs out."
The journey to the river is a nightmare. Edward can hardly stand, much less walk, and I half-lead, half-carry him. I'm paranoid about attackers, knowing that every Tribute left alive is in these woods. There is an occasional scent of someone else. Several times Edward nearly collapses, and I've never known a vampire to be so weak. A human with a cigarette lighter could probably kill him now. Not that I would let them within a kilometer of him, but still.
I freeze when we come to the place where the Mutts attacked us last time. Lying in a little rivet in the ground, about thirty yards from here, is exactly what I've wanted to find. She must have tossed it, but I can't imagine why she didn't try using it. The insanity must have been too much, or maybe she was trying to throw it at them. Better yet, she was trying to lure them away. But the fiery liquid still ended her life. Seeing it now, I can't believe that I forgot it. In all fairness, I was rather preoccupied with finding Edward. Glimmer's bow and a quiver of arrows is just within my reach. Eleven of them are left. "What?" asks Edward. I point in its general direction and he has to squint. "I guess this place isn't so unlucky after all."
"Maybe it just has a lot of luck. Good luck and bad luck," I reply, smiling.
"An entire time-space continuum of luck," he says with a forced smile.
"Wow, Alice would have trouble seeing anything here."
He laughs again, and when it makes him yelp I feel awful, though he assures me that it wasn't my fault. Yes, this place has horrid luck. I am never funny, absolutely never funny. Even my mother told me that. And now, the one time when I need to keep my mouth shut, I make him laugh until his sides split. Literally...
"Do you think you can stand on your own?" The arrows are far out, or at least for someone who's limping, and they're in the opposite direction of the river. I could get there in a second, however, so it makes sense to leave him for a minute. Assuming he won't fall over.
Edward shakes his head, and finally he decides to lean against a tree. I fly towards the arrows at top speed. Now up closer, I inspect them. I probably could have seen it from where I was— for that matter, I know I could— but I was too busy helping Edward. I smirk when I realize that these can be set to both ignite and explode on contact. I fumble with it for a second, but then wonder if it can break through vampire skin. Afterwards, I race back to where he was standing.
The journey from there is even worse. I feel stronger, knowing that I can defend us, but Edward is in agony. What little color he has in his face has drained away leaving him a deathly white; the bruises under his eyes black eyes surround his eyelids, making them look sunken and decayed. If he was motionless, he could easily be dead.
But he isn't still. He flinches with every move, and is so weak that I am half-carrying him. I try to stay emotionless for the cameras. Even if it isn't in the form of sponsor gifts, favor with the audience can be the difference between life and death.
We finally reach the river. In the clearing, I can see that the sun is trapped behind thin clouds, occasionally passing over and letting light through. The wind is heavy when we are not protected by trees.
I lower him carefully onto the riverbed before dangling my own bare foot into the water. It is not cold, but it is certainly chilled compared to the fire. Here, I can try to clean the wounds. If that's what I am supposed to do. "Are you alright?" I ask, though I instantly regret it.
"I am not going to lie to you," he says, gasping. "No, I am not alright."
I swallow hard and then nod, eyes on the ground. I don't want to make him talk more than he has to. The fact that he breathes and moves and speaks is one of the only indications that he is alive at all. Again, I inspect the burns, and they're worse than before. The ash has hardened into what looks like blackened stone, melded together from the pus-like gobs of venom. The cracks have widened, much to my horror, and are seeping with the clotted paste. "I'm sorry, this is going to hurt," I mumble. He cringes for a moment, but then relaxes as I press my finger against the ash. Yes, yes this has to be removed, it's hardening too much. Like a wedge in his already chipping skin, it's hardening and making it worse than it already is.
It takes a few tries to get him into the water, and I hear him clamp his jaw shut once he's finally in. "It stings," he finally admits. "Even more." I nod and promise that I'll be as gentle as possible.
"Gentle" turns out to be very difficult; the ash is almost impossible to remove. It is insisting on staying where it is, and forcing a rock underneath and up seems to be the only way. Still, every time I try, he has to restrain himself from screaming. I finally resort to scrubbing it loose relentlessly. By the time I am done, the water is white with ash and black with soot.
"Okay, I think that's enough for today," I sigh after a fruitless hour. The sun has raised to mid-sky, and the breeze brings in several new, fused scents. I realize with dismay that we need to hide. I gaze off into the jungle and at the ruined temple in the background. Is it just for decor, or could we take shelter there? This being the Hunger Games, I know the answer.
Taking Edward's hand, I manage to lift him out of the water and onto land. He heaves a sigh of relief and looks genuinely pain-free until I start drying off the burns. I try to convince myself that they look better, but in all honesty they don't. I can see that some places, that I had previously considered unscathed, have been reduced to blackened rubble, held on by thin threads. Some of his muscles are so scalded that I doubt they can heal, even with Capitol medicine. We can't go hunting, I realize. Even an animal could make it worse. Besides which, most of the animals in this jungle are designed to kill vampires.
"Alright. Now we've cleaned it." Except for the seeping globs of clotted venom and still engrained masses of ash. But I must admit, it does look a little better.
I've been in the hospital dozens of times thanks to my clumsiness and bad luck. I pick through my dim, human memories for conversations I had with doctors. All vampires were once human. Some things must still apply. If this were a human burn, the doctor would want to apply Betadine or something else to ward off infection. "Um..." I think about how to phrase this. "Can vampire wounds get infected?"
He pauses.
"Do you think?" I don't need anything definitive, just a guess to see if cleansing it further is a waste of time or something that could help.
"... yes," he finally says. "Not in the same way that human ones do, but bacteria can make the healing process slower and more painful. I think."
Alright, my first useful piece of information. Assuming that this area is crawling with infectors, cleaning is a good idea, preferably regularly. This is the same river where we skipped stones with... with Rue. She gave him leaves and and said that they helped with the poison from the animals. If it can do something that strong, it's almost certainly antibacterial. I tell him that I'll be back in a minute. It isn't hard to find a few bushes full of them.
I crumple the leaves and dunk them in the water. Edward eyes me curiously. "Those are the..."
"Yes," I tell him. He's about to protest, and I honestly don't blame him, so I press a leaf into the wounds only a half-second later. He cries out briefly. Then he sighs, and I withdraw it. The herb has absorbed a fair amount of venom, but more of it is seeping out to replace it. Still, some of the hardened ash is gone. And that is probably a good thing.
Afterwards I repeat the process with most of his burns, and by then the pile of leaves is gone. I return to the area with the bushes and then flit back to Edward for the rest of the injuries. The slightly-charred areas look a bit better when they aren't covered in soot, but the acrid scent of incense is still cutting through the air. I bite my lip.
I search through the herb-covered hill for something familiar. Flowers, weeds, flowers, the leaves that Rue gave me, nightlock, mint, more leaves, nightlock... mint! Mint! Mint! Mint! I snatch a few leaves of it before crumpling and dunking them as well. Then I do the same thing with them that I did with the other leaves. Curiously, I plop one of them in my mouth; I've wondered how human food would taste. I know that we're incapable of digestion, but mint leaves aren't, well, meant to be swallowed. It's rather sour and bitter, but it still has the refreshing aftertaste. I spit it into the river when I'm done with it.
After three applications of herbs and what looks like a truckload of pus-like venom/goo, the wounds are starting to look better.
"Well, it looks quite a bit better now," I tell Edward honestly. "But I'm going to use what's left of your shirt to keep it wrapped up, okay?" He gives me a half-hearted smile while I start tying the filthy rag around him.
"What's next, Dr. Swan?" he jokes. I know it isn't meant to be taken seriously, but I'm still somewhat insulted. Eyes still down, I tell him,
"Edward, I know we aren't married, but I think we've been through enough together for me to be a Cullen." I finish tying the knot and then tighten it. "So that's Dr. Cullen to you, patient." I look back up at him.
If I was somewhat insulted, he is devastated.
"What?" I demand teasingly.
He glances down at the ground.
"What?" I ask more seriously this time, not seeing how the humor has left so suddenly.
Edward shakes his head. "It's nothing." He sighs, his expression one of something akin to nostalgia. We were only joshing, and the appearance is so out of place in this conversation that it takes me a moment of thorough examination to recognize it. When I do, it hits me like a battering ram. Grief.
Oh. Stupid, I chide myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Edward, no, no, I didn't mean..."
"I know you didn't mean anything, it's just... almost a century, Bella. Almost a century, and... and I'll never forget a second of it. And then I've had six months to try to move on. It's painful, and—"
"And our kind forgive even slower than we forget," I finish for him. I glare up at the sky, thinking of Rue. "I'm sorry, Edward, I just... I don't..."
"You don't remember." He swallows. "You were human, you don't remember."
And I'm horrified when I realize that I don't. Jacob, Renee, Charlie... Seth, Leah, Sam... Paul, Quil, Embry... Mike Newton, Jessica, Angela... Lauren, Eric... and yes, Carlisle... I can't remember them. Who they were, certainly. But their faces, their voices... it's lost to me. Maybe if I saw them again, I could. But not now. I gulp. "Really. I didn't mean anything."
"I know you didn't. But you just brought back some... bad memories."
I nod and then decide to change the subject. "Do you think we could make it over there?" I point in the direction of the temple. Edward has to squint, and when he sees he shakes his head. Another breeze blows the scents of the others towards us.
"Hiding isn't..." He winces. "Isn't going to make it any better."
"You feel the wind, it will mask the scents."
"Enough?"
"Maybe..." I take a quick whiff. "And the air in that direction smells a lot like the Mutts. They won't want to get anywhere near it, if they've seen what they can do."
"We shouldn't get anywhere near it, either."
I hold up my bow triumphantly. "I could—"
"You have eleven arrows. There are thousands of them," he counters.
"Yes, but..." I could tell him my theory about the Capitol liking us, but I doubt it would gain us any favors. "I'll carry you. Just trust me on this."
He complains a bit more, but after he's off his feet he stops talking. At first I think he has agreed with me, but then I realize that he is struggling not to cry out with every step I take. After that I push myself to top speed, disregarding Edward's obvious protest. Up close, it looks more like a series of caves than a ruined temple. It's obviously manufactured, but it is just that— ruined. I could probably find a shelter somewhere further away from the clearing and the river, but Edward can't take much more of this.
I find what looks like a suitable cave and then let him rest inside. After camouflaging the entrance to the best of my ability, I feel a bit better. I know it's useless, with our tracking senses, but something about it brings an aura of security. I stand back and look at my work. An animal might pass by it. A human would spot it instantly. A vampire would laugh. Still, I'm proud of it. Well, somewhat.
I step inside. Edward looks almost like he's sleeping. His eyes are out of focus and barely open, and he reclines against the cave wall. He seems to gain a bit of alertness when I step inside, though. His breathing is still shallow, gasping for air like I did after the Mutt attack, and I know he is in agony. I kneel next to him. "Edward, Edward, it's okay," I tell him. "I'm going to get you through this, I promise."
"But—"
"I'm getting you through this. No matter what it takes."
"Yes," he tells me. I narrow my eyes.
"What?"
"Yes," he says again, a slight smile playing on his face. "Just because I can't read your mind doesn't mean I can't read you. I was answering your unspoken question. The answer is yes." He pauses, catching his ragged breath. "We can die from these sorts of things." He rolls his eyes at some unheard joke. "And it's a lot more painful than a normal death." Then Edward sighs.
"No," I snap, too forcefully.
"What?"
"Your unspoken question. I'm not going to leave you. I won't do that, I promise. We're allies. We're a team, we're from the same District, we are literal soul mates, and we're meant for each other. And... and holy crow, Edward, we're Cullens. Whatever else we are, we're family, and I'm not going to let you down."
"Promise?" he whispers.
"I promise." He leans in for a kiss, but I smoothly dodge out of the way. This isn't for him, it's for the Capitol. We need a blood supply from sponsors, if there are any. If I'm going to get him through this, we should play this card for all it's worth. And that means tension.
"What?" he says, disappointed.
Still acting and hoping my lying skills have improved, I tell him, "I'm just worried."
"About what?"
I smile slightly. "Afraid, I guess. Afraid I'm going to lose you."
Plop. I hear the parachute hit the ground outside. Our first sponsor gift. For a moment I hope that it's medicine, but I catch the scent soon enough. From through the vines, I can see the ruby-red wine bottle. I grab it and rush back to Edward. The label reads "condensed blood." It's the same variety that I found in the restaurant, not the disgusting kind they served us back at the Tribute tower. I check the back, and it says it contains several weeks worth for a healthy vampire. I smile at it, but Edward is frowning.
"That's human blood," he notes.
"I'm fairly certain it came out of a machine," I tell him, twisting out the cork.
"Trust me," he says. "It's human."
"Well, where would they get human blood?" I counter. He glowers at me. "Oh," I respond in a tiny voice. I know that the Capitol kills people for fun, but... not like this.
"I don't know either," he admits. "But that isn't synthesized."
"Maybe they were holding out on us," I tell him. "Maybe they've made synthesized blood that tastes better."
He shrugs, and the cork finally comes out with a satisfying pop! It takes all of the restraint I have not to drink the bottle dry, and yet even more to hand it over to him willingly. I see him swallow as he forces himself to push it away. "No, Bella," he says weakly. "I don't want it."
"Yes, you do," I encourage.
"It's human blood, Bella, I haven't had it in..."
"A long time." I force a smile, but it's like molten lead is being poured down my throat. "Indulge yourself. You're sick."
"I thought you were supposed to eat and drink healthy things when you're sick," Edward grumbles.
"Well, this is healthy. It also tastes good. And yes, humans eat junk when they're sick. Doctors give out lollipops at their offices."
"Hypocrites."
"True," I admit. "Fine. If you don't want it, well... think of it as medicine. Disgusting... thick... salty... red... metallic-tasting medicine."
He half-chuckles. "Congratulations. You are a newborn vampire, and you almost managed to make blood sound unappealing."
"Edward. I'm not taking you hunting. Not like this. So... unless you want to..." I can't think of rhetoric good enough. "It isn't like you're killing someone, and there is no animal blood around, and it isn't really human anyways, so... please?"
Reluctantly, he sighs, taking the bottle. I urge him to take a sip, and, finally, he does. Afterwards he needs very little encouragement, though he still sips it slowly. It takes six swallows for a little rim of color to form on the outer edge of his iris. And, to my horror, that color is red. I can't help but flinch, and he looks up when I do. I shake my head and, after about ten minutes, he's drained a fourth of the bottle. His eyes are a rich crimson. I bite my lip, half surprised when my teeth don't pierce the skin. His eyes meet mine, and I catch him looking in the mirror of my pupil.
"This is part of the reason why I didn't want the bottle," Edward tells me with a sigh.
"Do you feel better now?" I inquire. He forces a stiff nod. "You're still in pain." Again, he nods. "May I take a look?"
"No," he emphasizes, eyes wide.
"So... the blood didn't help."
"It... I think it made it worse."
"Why would it get worse?"
"Maybe it's healing."
"Okay, well, we're learning as we go. I really need to take a look."
Edward swallows and edges away from the cave wall. I peer behind him cautiously. The clotted venom is pooling in disturbing amounts, and a small bit of blood has mixed with it, making it turn a nauseating shade of pinkish white, like pus. The stench of seared venom is acrid, and, mixed with blood, it smells like festering birthday cake. But I must admit, aside from the pus and the venom and the clots of hardened ash, it does look better. There is a little more color— color that is quickly draining away. Before I turn away, I force a smile. "It looks better," I promise Edward. "Pain means healing, remember?"
"Does it?" he asks slowly.
"Well, it does in humans. Usually... let's just pretend it's getting better, whether it is or not, okay?"
He nods, also slowly. "Does that mean that you don't think it's getting better?" Edward questions unhurriedly.
I swallow. "It's fine. You're... you're going to be fine." I smile at him, and he blinks. Then he blinks again. He blinks a few more times, and it takes me a few minutes to recognize the symptoms.
"Vampires... vampires don't get tired," I counter. But he looks undeniably exhausted.
"Tell that to my eyelids."
I laugh a little at that, but not much. Not enough. After a few seconds of silence, I tell him, "I wish we could sleep." I sigh.
"Why?" he asks. I shrug.
"I guess I just miss dreaming. It made me feel safe."
"Even when they were nightmares?" he drawls.
I nod. "Even when they were nightmares. I always knew I could just wake up and I'd be right there." I pause. "In your arms." Haymitch must love that. "And it was even better, because when things got bad, I could just pretend that I would wake up from the nightmare. Immediately... but... I can't believe that anymore. I never sleep. Not ever. Which means that this, all of this... it has to be real."
"Does it?" he questions sleepily. He closes his eyes, and I'm still shocked by their color when he opens them again. "I used to fantasize that... that everything after I caught the spanish influenza was just a... hallucination from the illness. Some sort of twisted and violent nightmare. That I'm in a coma." Lazily, he brushes a lock of hair over my ear. "But I never pretend that anymore."
"Really?" I whisper. The wind rustles the vine camouflage, letting ribbons of sunlight drift into the cave. Even with my new vision, it is easier to see with this amount of brightness. Edward's smile is blinding in the light, the tendrils gleaming off of him like a mirror. I can watch as the sun moves steadily. The shadows from the green vines move slowly, exposing more and more of his gleaming skin to the rays.
"You're my whole world, Bella." I would have blushed, embarrassed, but I can't. "I'm sorry, that sounds cliché, doesn't it?" He sighs.
"It would sound horrible if I didn't you were telling the truth. But you've told me that a thousand times." My smile fades. "And you've only broken that promise once."
"I thought... I thought I was protecting you."
"I'm not accusing you of anything, Edward... sometimes I wish you would stop idealizing me, though," I admit. The breeze fades and clouds pass overhead, a hole in the sun.
"And sometimes I wish you would stop putting yourself down. You're more amazing than you give yourself credit for."
"What have I ever done that's 'amazing?'"
"You've saved my life. Five times now. Considering how much trouble I was in all of those times, and considering that you were human for two of those... I'd say that's amazing. And you are either the stupidest or most selfless person I have ever met."
"Selflessness is a great way to get yourself killed."
"So are bravery, truthfulness, and compassion. But that doesn't mean that they're bad things. If you hadn't been selfless, I wouldn't be alive."
"I'm not selfless. You saw what I did to Jacob."
"We all—" He cries out again. "We all make mistakes. Some mistakes are just different than others... the real question, Bella, is why on earth would you love me?"
"You're brave, you've saved my life more times than I can count, you play the most beautiful music... and that crooked grin you give whenever you're really happy about something—"
"It is not crooked!"
"Oh, yes it is. And I wasn't finished. You're selfless, too. You're always so passionate about the things that matter. And the things that honestly don't matter... you may not be perfect, Edward. But you are perfect for me."
He pauses, for a minute, then grins. The same one that I absolutely love. "Are you sure it doesn't have something to do with the hair?"
I laugh at that, and my favorite smile widens. I finally relax, leaning against the cave wall. Another gust of wind blows the vines apart. It's almost like the air is capable of moving light. My own movement kicks up dust, and it glints with undeniable beauty in the sun. "No," I tell him. "It has absolutely nothing to do with the hair." It's slightly charred, anyway. Curiously, I bring my hand up to my own head. No longer brown, on the edges. It has blackened, and the tips turn to ash in my hands. It is much shorter than it was. I wonder if Cinna will still be able to braid it when I get back to the Capitol. If I get back to the Capitol.
But what if we do? What will they do with us? Let us free, change us back? What will the family think of us? What will the Capitol do to my family? They obviously know that we are vampires. Volunteering was pointless. Alice would have been fine— oh. No, she wouldn't have.
"What are you thinking?"
"Huh?"
"What—"
"No, I heard you, but... why?"
"I just wanted to know. I still can't read your thoughts, remember?"
"I'm thinking... I'm thinking how glad I am that I volunteered. Can you imagine Alice? Going up against all of those newborns?"
"... She survived the fight."
"But alone. Without Jasper."
He closes his eyes. "I don't even want to think about it." Then he looks back at me. "What else?" he questions.
I shake my head. Edward sighs and turns away. There is a long moment of silence. Something finally occurs to me. "How long have we been here?" Of course, I could learn the answer myself. It's been a little over a week, I believe. He responds the same, and I only nod, too distracted for anything else.
Weakly, he wraps his arm around me, and we stay this way until nightfall. He mutters something about how we can't see the stars, makes a few more attempts at conversation... and then I kiss him hard.
A/N: Next chapter should be up within the next few days. I know where I'm taking it from here. We have about... three chapters left in the Games and then a couple of "surprise" chapters. Prepare for a couple of "surprises." One obvious plot twist and one not terribly obvious plot twist... and then you get to meet my OC. *cue manic laughter*