"Starting over."
Gale wasn't sure what he had gotten himself into by agreeing to never learn of the girl's past. The girl's past did hold a certain mystery that had grabbed him by the neck. He was so curious as to what could make a girl's expression be held entirely by her eyes. Venus smiled, taking a swig of her drink. There was an elegant note to her, one that hide that she could have ever been a soldier. What made her survive the war? He couldn't help but wonder. She sighed. "Don't."
Gale was taken aback. Why was it that she found a way into his head every time? She claimed she didn't. Was he that easy to guess? This darling girl didn't strike fear into his heart, merely curiosity and excitement. This girl wasn't terrifying, though he knew her true abilities. It took some time for him to realize what else this girl was: a Victor. He couldn't remember what district she was from, but if she wasn't on morphling or drinking it only made sense that she had gone stark raving mad. "You were a Victor at one point."
The anger flashed in her eyes, as if she didn't want to speak about it. Gale knew that anger, that flare of the temper. It was the same look in Venus's eyes as her district partner died in her arms, as she had both anger and sadness. This time, however, there were no tears, no choked up "I'm sorries" or admittance of love. Gale wondered if Venus resented that Peeta and Katniss both made it out while she had to watch her love die over and over again. She nodded, and curtly stated, "I'm not discussing this. We agreed to start over with no history."
Gale wasn't happy but agreed to it. He was curious as to what she had seen in the games, curious as to why she had chosen to get close to him. He was pretty sure if he saw this girl in attack mode that he would be begging for his life. After all, he'd seen what she was capable of. Venus didn't want to talk about it… and he was desperate to know what made her care about the District 12 boy that she cried over that year. Why she was desperate to die. She made a lot of mistakes in the arena, but knowing how smart she was… she didn't make them on purpose. "Alright," was the only word that came out of his though process.
He knew that he would never be able to let go of wanting to know more about her. Wanting to figure out what was going on in her head. And somehow, he wondered if he'd ever get a decent explanation for what made her volunteer to die. What made her the soldier she was, why she was a fighter… and he knew he might never get the answers. But somehow, that was okay for now.
Author's Note: I just realized that I never mentioned that because I am not Suzanne Collins, I do not own the Hunger Games. If I did, things would've been severely different. Also, all you people who are reading are lovely, but I'd love the occasional review because I feed off of praise. I am the Ego Monster. Kidding. But yeah, I figured this would be a GREAT chapter to include the disclaimer. Also, this is so not the end. Not even close.