Note: Sorry this took so long to get out! Hopefully the length makes up for it. I decided to combine 3 chapters into this one. It gets somewhat lemon-y at the end, nothing worse than shirts being removed though. Hope you like it! Also, sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I am super excited to finally get this chapter out.
under you a monster grew
Ch. 3
Monster
It's my turn to speak, but this new found anger has sparked in me, and I can't bring myself to. I'm actually somewhat shocked that it's there. It's the first steady, unwavering feeling I've had in months. Something about how he spoke of Haymitch rubs me the wrong way, even though I know it's true. Even if Haymitch is a sad drunk, Gale should be able to understand why. If he doesn't, why is he still here? Tolerating a girl who can fall apart with the utterings of a few words, whose own thoughts can work her into hysteria?
I have to remind myself that, yes, we were friends once. It seems like a lifetime ago, but friends stick together. I guess. Gale hadn't made much of an effort until now. I'm being ridiculous, I know it. He apologized, he probably felt awful, and was afraid to confront me. But the longer I sit here, looking at him, in this infuriating silence, I come to realize I do not forgive him. I've forgiven him as a person, I guess, I don't blame him for what's happened to Prim. It wasn't his fault she was there. But I haven't forgiven him for what he became in the war. I swallow, my throat tight, and tears sting in my eyes. I guess Gale has sensed something is wrong, because he has that look on his face again. The concerned look.
I want him to leave. I want to figure out what I feel about him, and everything else, and I can't do that while he's here. He makes no sign of moving, though, and instead he looks like he's about to cry again. I know I can't handle it, and the anger I felt earlier is starting to ebb. I still can't speak, and I wish I could will him out of the room with my mind, or a look. It's no use, he isn't looking at me anymore, but instead his hands, which are folded with his palms upwards, as if he can find solace there. I give up, closing my eyes to sleep.
"I'm sorry, Katniss." his voice is hoarse, and I think he really is crying. I can feel him gazing at me, even through closed eyes, and I pretend that I'm already asleep, and that his words are lost on me. I really don't know what to do with another apology. I just want him to go. Go away. Go home. Go downstairs. Just let me sleep. He isn't fooled. He's still looking at me, I can feel it. A few minutes later, I let out a sigh and open my eyes. Gale doesn't make a sound, and I'm afraid to look in his eyes. I train my focus on the ceiling, perfect plaster, undisturbed even after almost 80 years of standing here. I wish it had the answers I needed right now, and I try to pull the words I need to tell Gale out of it, but to no avail.
"I know...I know you're sorry." There's no emotion in my voice, but what can I do? I can't just kick him out, and I can't lie to him and say it's okay either. Gale doesn't react, and when I finally turn to look at him, I'm surprised to find a new emotion on his face. Not sadness, not understanding, but anger. I'm taken aback, it was the last thing I expected. He'd been patient with me the whole day.
"Then what do you want me to do?" His voice bites into me, causing my lips to tremble. I only allow a second of hurt to register, then I fight back with my own fury, the same breed as earlier, letting it fill my body. I blindly follow it, letting it tear off the blanket, following it off the bed. It doesn't want me to stay here, in the same room as him. I'm about to stand when Gale catches my arm. It's a light touch really, probably for my betterment, but I yank myself from his grasp as if it burned. He just looks at me, somewhat shocked.
"Leave. Please." I finally manage to croak out after a long stalemate. Gale doesn't move, which just infuriates me more. He wanted to know, and I told him. Why is he still here? "I SAID LEAVE!" ...I really didn't mean to yell so loud. Gale continues to look at me. I can almost see his own anger burning behind his eyes, feel the heat they contain.
"You want me to leave now?" His voice is razor sharp, his eyes piercing. He barks out a sudden laugh that makes me jump. "Whatever happened to you always wanting me by your side?"
"It was different, then." My voice matches his own sharpness, two can play this game.
"I want it to be the same now." He sounds a little sad. He sounds like he'll back down. I don't want to let him.
"It can't be." No, I won't let him. He responds with a moment of silence.
"I know." Defeat reflects in his voice, but I'm still not finished.
"Then why are you here?" I want a real answer.
"I miss you, Katniss." If I wasn't so angry, I would back down. But I'm not satisfied.
"And what's exactly kept you from visiting?" It's not that I don't know, I just want to hear him say it.
"I felt bad...guilty...about Prim." He looks at me, expecting rebuttal, but I've gotten what I wanted. He could have told me sorry a million times, begged forgiveness, but they would have meant nothing without him addressing her name. Apparently he isn't done speaking. "You know she was like a sister to me too." I would have been happy if he ended it there, but he just had to continue, try to make me see his side.
"I know that." I whisper. Fury is burning so hot inside me, I'm afraid I might explode. "But why did it have to take Prim dying for you to have the slightest inclination what you designed might have been wrong?" My voice raises barely above a whisper. Gale looks a little shocked, like it hadn't occurred to him before that this might be what bothered me. "Why are you only sorry for Prim?" My voice is raising. "Why aren't you sorry for every innocent person of the capital that died?!" I'm standing, anger welling, boiling over inside me. I'm almost screaming. "WHY ARE YOU SAYING SORRY TO ME?" Gale sits silent, allowing for me to continue, but I can't. My anger is spent, leaving me panting, finally looking down at him. Before, I was blind with anger, but now I see tears brimming in his eyes.
"If you think I don't feel bad for every death I caused, you're wrong." His voice is shakey, like he's fighting to keep it from breaking. "It took Prim dying for me to realize the full...magnitude of my actions, my weapons." More tears run down his cheeks, but he refuses to look away from me. "I was so ashamed. I thought I could never face you again. But, I realized I had to." He purses his lips, and I search his eyes, unsure what to think. He sounds genuine, and the want to believe him, to forgive him stirs up inside me. I feel horrible for my outburst. "I need you, Katniss. I'm sorry."
The last remnants of my anger melt away. Tears of my own, and I finally walk forward, letting forehead rest against his own. My hands find his neck and rest there, my thumbs wipe away his tears, and he pulls me close. I don't quite forgive him for everything, not yet. But I can't stand for Gale to be in any more pain caused by me, and I resolve to try my hardest to see things from his point of view before getting angry. I start to pull back, ready to apologize for my own actions when Gale's lips brush against my own.
At first I'm shocked, and I jerk away, back up, and he stands sheepishly. The kiss caught me off guard, and it takes a few minutes of looking at him, studying him, to realize I want to kiss him. He seems to sense this, and wraps me up in his arms, kiss again. I let myself get lost in them, loving how soft and tender they are. I realize, a little self consciously, that my lips are chapped, but Gale doesn't seem to mind, in fact he is becoming more hungry and insistent the longer we kiss. Soon he's kissing me harder than I've ever been kissed before, and I let him, revelling in the passion, hungry after so long without such contact. He bites my lip, and I let him. Our tongues soon dance together, each exploring the other. It takes me a while to register that he's nudging me back to the bed, but I oblige, stumbling into it, falling onto the mattress, but we don't care enough to separate. Gale's hands become entangled into my hair, and my arms find their way around his neck, and for a while we're content, him on top of me, I holding him close.
After a while it isn't enough. I desperately want him closer, so I wrap my legs around his waist. He inhales sharply at this, but doesn't protest, instead he lifts me up, and moves me to the center of the bed, which is much more comfortable than the edge we were pressed against. We pull apart briefly, and he uses this time to take off my shirt, and wastes no time exploring my body once it's off. He resumes kissing but doesn't stray on my lips for long this time, instead he makes his way from the corner of my mouth, down my neck, leaving little bites on my collarbone, which have become much more prominent with months of minimal eating. He kisses his way down my chest, down my stomach, and stops above my belly button before returning to my lips. It's my turn to explore now, and his shirt quickly joins mine in a heap on the floor. He pulls away, and I take a moment to admire his body, toned and slender, his olive skin pulled in the just the right way over supple muscles.
I suddenly feel inadequate. My hip bones protrude, almost as bad as my first time in the arena, and laying here it feels as though my rib cage my burst out of my skin. I'm not exactly a bag of bones, but I don't have as many curves as I should, and I'm afraid Gale will notice, and worry. If he does, he doesn't show it, and instead whispers little phrases such as perfect and you're beautiful between long kisses. My cold hands seek the warmth of his body, and they explore, switching between running down his chest and scratching ever so lightly down his arms and back. I think he likes this, because when I do it, he shivers, and his kisses become more fervent, if that's even possible.
He is starting to unbutton my pants when he stops himself, and pulls away. It takes all my will not to beg him to come back, and before I can think, a don't stop slips from my mouth. He gives me a sad smile, but sits back, looking at me, analyzing me like I'm a complicated snare or something. I sit up suddenly, worried I did something to repulse him. I want him to come back and kiss me, come and be close. I'd missed being close to someone all these months. Didn't he realize? Peeta probably wasn't coming back, not completely, anyhow, and probably wouldn't ever love me again. I just wanted Gale right now. Couldn't he understand that? After a long silence filled with our eyes searching eachother, he lets out a sigh and shakes his head.
"What?" I ask, and I can't figure out if I'm more hurt or confused. There's a third feeling in there, and I think it's offense. Gale just shakes his head again.
"I can't do this. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. Plus we were just yelling at each other." He looks to me, hoping I'll understand. I feel like crying again instead. "It just doesn't feel right."
"It feels right to me." I mumble, but I don't know if it's the truth. I just got lost in the moment, and now there's a sinking feeling I can't identify coming down in my stomach. I don't know if it's disappointment or relief, or something else completely. I still pout though, which makes Gale laugh a little. He strokes my now messy hair as if attempting to smooth it down, and smiles. I can't bring myself to return it. I remember a time we kissed in the woods of district 2, and he compared it to kissing a drunk. Was that what it was like just now? Was he repulsed by my kissing?
Something tells me that isn't the case. All the kissing, yelling, and crying has left me exhausted, though, and I lay down, grabbing Gales hand and pulling him down with me. He doesn't object, and his arms find their way around my waist, his lips in my hair, and I can almost feel him inhaling me in. It's strangely intimate, and it makes up for the sudden cut off in our moment. Somewhat. I'm still turned on, I can tell Gale is too, which confuses me even more. Didn't he want me? I consider for a moment asking him for a better answer, how exactly it doesn't feel right, but resolve to stay quiet. I'm too tired to speak anyhow, and spend the rest of my waking moments studying his hands, big and warm, enveloping my own, and fall asleep.
When I awake, his side of the bed is cold. He is gone.
Note: Again, hope this wasn't too out of character. More chapters to come with break, and possibly a new fic starring Madge? Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for the feedback on the previous chapters :)