VIII
…
Effie had called me yesterday afternoon to inform she had completed her plans for Katniss's and mine day out in the city.
She apologized to me for the late notice and rush scheduling, but the only day she could afford for Katniss and I to spend an entire day together would be tomorrow, today. I told her it was nothing to worry about and that I was glad to be able to take Katniss out. She was no less smiling cheekily at my response before going head first, telling me what she had planned for us with great enthusiasm. I felt as if it was Reaping day all over again. And before she said her goodbyes, she told me to be expecting Portia early in the morning tomorrow, today.
I was ready, no less. I was probably too ready. I was up like five, my workout done by six, and presentable by six-thirty. Five was early for me. Eight when Portia came to my room was another sort of early.
She didn't come alone though, but with an outfit for me, the simplest outfit I had seen in years:
A maroon shirt that she allowed me to roll up to my elbows.
A pair of black pants that were torn in numerous places.
A pair of black boots like the ones the Peacekeepers wore.
Simple.
Comfortable.
Liked.
It was nothing like what my stylist had ever made me wear. It wasn't like the gold plated armor or the silver, actual silver, threaded suit or the outrageous outfit with the neon white pants.
And then when I saw what Cinna had dressed Katniss in, quite similar and familiar to mine, my breath was taken away:
A pair of black boots like the ones the Peacekeepers wore and the ones I wore.
A pair of maroon stockings - I think that's what Effie called them, she was so happy to see Katniss so "fashionable" that she talked about every aspect of her outfit way too fast for me to catch every word - that like my pants were torn in a number of places.
A short, black skirt that looked to be intentionally creased at parts.
A tight, black corset that was more concealing and preservative than most of the women in the Capitol wore.
And the arrow armband she had worn before, little to no makeup on, and her dark, waves cascading down her back.
She was gorgeous.
Cinna always seemed to know how to make she glow brighter than she already did on her own.
She was beautiful.
…
The moment we stepped out of the car, we were the eye of attention. And as we walked down the Capitol streets, all eyes were on us. Lights flashing at every corner and cameras rolling on a never ending loop, too.
I could just see the morning's headlines now-
Beauty & Beast
Retirement from the Bachelor Life
Kindling New Fames
Another Star-Crossed Couple
Battenberg's New Prey
The Cause of Peeta's Broken Heart
Huntress on the Prowl
Hell, maybe if they were obsessed enough - which the odds were definitely in favor of - they'd even print a special edition this evening about us. A Afternoon With The Victors it'd read in big bold, catchy letters. It'd include our every breath, be pages and pages long. There'd be pictures and overly descriptive reports of our activities. There'd be a list of where we went and what we bought or ate or touched or even looked at.
Without a doubt we'd be all over the television before we even got back to the tribute building, they were probably broadcasting something this very moment, narrating our every move.
The evening news would just be pictures and clips and chatter about us. Snow could set fire to the Capitol and the people probably wouldn't even care no less realize. Katniss and I could be killed and the Capitol wouldn't even care no less realize, just be consumed by the idea that we were "together" for the afternoon. Their children could be taken right before them, in front of their own eyes and they wouldn't even care no less realize.
Caesar Flickerman had his topic of talk for the week and Claudius Templesmith would be right there beside him on the stage playing off his every word, adding little unwanted side comments that the people thrived off of. That show with the ladies in the red hats, Under the Brim?, would gossip till one of them choked on their one words.
By the time we would get back to the tribute building, Effie would have hundreds of interviews and photo shoots and writers waiting to see if we'd be willing to give up the next - rest of our lives to indulge them.
The Capitol was going to have a field day.
…
Stepping out from the extravagant restaurant Effie had made a reservation at, Katniss stumbles. Quickly, I step forward, grabbing her by her forearm and pulling into my side. She bashes against me, still stumbling as her small frame seemed to shake and rattle from the impact. It takes a moment and a strong drip on her shoulder before she levels out.
"You okay," I ask softly, arm around her shoulder in case she were to stumble again.
She nods, looking down at the ground.
She wasn't okay. She could barely hold herself up.
She was healing. Aurelius had told me himself yesterday that in a few more days all her wounds would be healed. He told me the supplement injections and vaccines were working well. He told me in no time her body would be restored. The bruises would be gone. The scrap along her hairline would peel away. The pinky on her left hand would be flexible again. The cracked ribs would be officially mended. The slash down her side would be completely closed.
The only thing that wasn't getting fixed was her malnutrition.
That was one thing Aurelius shots couldn't help. And he did give her vitamin and mineral shots, weight supplements injections, and more. Yet none of them were really working.
They wouldn't work, properly, without a little help from her. To be sure the vitamin and mineral shots, weight supplements injections, and more actually worked to their full capability, Katniss had to actually consume some nutrient, eat some food. And that was exactly what she wasn't doing.
She drank. She kept herself well hydrated. Water seemed to be all she desired, but her eating habits… they were something else. She ate about a grain of rice a day, less than that most the time. Just then in the restaurant she only pushed the vegetables around in her salad and had only a few minuscule scoopfuls of her soup. She had opted out of dessert, telling our waiter that she was well too full to eat another morsel.
She was healing, but at the same time she was decaying.
And it was killing me to see her unable to hold herself up, even if it meant I was the one supporting her.
…
Turning a corner, I spot a toy store in the corner of my eye and a chocolate shop not too far from it.
I give her shoulder a soft squeeze, "You want to get something for your sister, bring her home a gift?"
And for the first time she looks to me and gives me a smile, a genuine smile. Not the artificially, drugged endorsed smiles and laughs she gave Caesar and the cameras days ago, this was the real Katniss Everdeen giving me a real smile.
"Yeah," she smiles, "That'd be nice."
There so, together we walk to the store.
The owner's eyes seem to glow when we walk in astonished and shocked to see two Victors striding around the store.
We walk around once, Katniss staying clear of the toy swords and Games memorabilia that the Capitol children looked at with desire this time of year. The fake axes and play bow and arrow would be a delight for a Capitol child to hold in their hands, but in Katniss's eyes they're pure evil. And so when she veered away from them, I was more than willingly to allow her.
Instead, she leans to the part of the store with the toy animals. She smiles at them, the simple genuine smile she had given me when I mentioned her sister. She touches them too, feeling each animals' soft cloth and texture. The store owner no doubt is capturing these moment as Katniss traces his merchandise in hope to be able to sell it for a higher price with proof the infamous, Katniss Everdeen laid a finger on it.
It's when her hand falls on the small, yellow duckling she stops. She looks at it and smiles, embracing the moment as if she had just achieved the greatest task life had to offer. Then taking the duck in hand, she turned to me.
"Good to go?"
She smiles, nodding her head.
She has a fit with the owner, not an agreement, just a small dispute over price. The owner of course, didn't want her to pay. Making a Victor pay for anything was like a crime, but Katniss thought otherwise. When even I, a past Victor, someone neither the press nor the owner would care or put up as much of a fight if I want to pay for something as small as a toy duck, offered to pay, Katniss gave me the death glare.
This was her fight.
And nevertheless, with her amount of stubbornness, she got the owner give in and allowed her to pay.
"I can take care of myself," she tells me as we make our way from the store.
I smile. "There's no doubt in my mind that you can, but that man looked like he needed to regroup."
She falls silent, looking down at her shoes.
"It's just… I don't do well with charity. Even if over a piece of bread, I just don't take it well."
"Oh, well…" I give her another smile, "why don't we go get some chocolate, I'm sure your sister would love some. And I won't even give the owner a chance to catch his breath so he could possibly have a chance with as you fight him into letting you pay."
…
Even though I wasn't one for neither shopping nor a day out in the Capitol, I could say the day was a success. We survived, no one died or was hurt and we did come back with gifts.
Plus…
Effie was enthused.
We were proper Victors, we were dressed suitably and to match, we stood tall with our chins up, we used manners just like Effie had told us to do, and we didn't embarrass our districts anyway at all. We behaved perfectly and caused no problems… expect for Katniss's little disagreements with the number of shop owners who refused to allow her to pay, but Effie didn't need to know of those. We did not hide from the press and the cameras either which Effie knew quite well from the footage that had been broadcasted and of course by the number of interviews I had expected her to receive.
And to top it all off, Katniss was happy.
After stopping at the toy store she seemed to lighten up. She smiled a few more times and would talk every now and then.
Her sister, Primrose or Prim, became the topic of choice.
It was after the toy duck that she began to shop. Not looking at the merchandise and nodding her had as we had done for a while, but literal shopping, picking an item or two to purchase at particular stores we visited. Her eyes would fall on something and she'd smile. She'd say that Prim would see this and could imagine so-and-so using it or she's say Prim would spot this and consider that so-and-so needed it.
I wasn't a shopper and neither was she really, but that was okay.
And so we ended up with:
A duck for Prim
A box of pink candies for a girl named - Posy?
A chess set for Vick
A basket of yarns and fabrics for Hazel
A wristwatch for Riley?
A pair of winter boots for Gale
A necklace for Effie
And a large bottle of white liquor for Haymitch
It was a successful day for Katniss Everdeen, smiles and talking and shopping.
And it was a surprisingly satisfactory day… because Katniss Everdeen was there.