This is the sister story to Apothecary Bakery a story I wrote for EverlarkFicExchange earlier this year. This is how Gale and Delly started messing around. (Special thanks to Norbertsmom who beta'd this story and to the crew at MoreS2SL for hosting this wonderful charity.) - I do not own the Hunger Games

One Year Ago

Sunday- Beginning of Spring

Gale felt it the moment Katniss left his side; she sprung away from him as if he had some incurable disease. The freak snow squall had them ducking for cover in one of their safety shelters. They did nothing but hunker down to wait out the bad weather. Gale thought this was the perfect opportunity for them to talk. Katniss was furious, he could tell, she had that scowl on her face that caused her eyes to narrow into slits. Her message was clear: Katniss Everdeen wanted nothing to do with him. She wouldn't go near him not even for warmth.

He saw when she stood outside and she shook, and not from the cold. Katniss brushed herself off as if she was attempting to get his smell off of her. Rolling onto his back, he threw his arm over his face. All of the months spent flirting meant nothing. He knew Katniss was on the fence about them, but he tried his best to make her see he was more than just a great hunting buddy.

He cleaned up his act. He stopped seeing other women, stopped hanging out with his buddies after work. Gale stopped drinking and began hanging out with his siblings in an effort to show Katniss he could be responsible and that he was serious about settling down. He'd done all that in the hopes that when she graduated, come the summer, they could talk about the future. He wanted to settle down and eventually have children.

Gale sat miserably, not following her.

It wasn't that he wanted Katniss, it's just that she was the only one who didn't objectify him. He wanted someone who saw him, not just a good looking guy or a good lay. He wanted for his wife to be his partner, much the same way he and Katniss were partners in the forest and with their trading business. It's why he thought it a natural progression for him and Katniss to become husband and wife.

Feeling her leave was like a kick in the gut. If Katniss couldn't stand to sleep next to him for a few hours in the woods, where she was the happiest, she wouldn't be able to sleep with him in a bed. The reality made him wince.

Getting out from the forest he walked, not toward home, but to the Hob. But It was dark out and flurries fell from the dark clouds above. He went to Ripper's place.

"Gale Hawthorne," Ripper greeted from her tiny home.

"Hello, Ripper?"

"I haven't seen you in a year," Ripper said. She was a wiry woman who had an illegal distillery in the district.

"I." How did he explain that he had been keeping away from debauchery because of a girl who didn't want anything with him.

"How's your ma?"

"Fine." He didn't want to talk, but he didn't want to be impolite. Ripper once refused to sell liquor to one of his buddies because he'd pissed her off.

"Your sister must be growing like a reed."

"She's getting taller," he agreed. He decided to cut the chit-chat. Tonight he needed to get drunk to feel better and forget what a fool he had been. "I need a bottle."

"It must be a rough night for you to knock on my door at this time of the night," Ripper said.

"Yeah," he said, not wanting to elaborate.

"Special price. Because you look like you need a drink."

Gale purchased a bottle of cheap liquor. Thanked Ripper and made his way out into the night. He opened it up and drank. The liquid burned going down. Coughing he wiped his mouth. It had been nearly a year since he last drank.

The liquid hit his empty stomach and immediately the sharp edges of pain blurred. He took another sip and walked toward the Slag Heap where he knew he could find a warm body to bury himself in. However, when he stood at the doors, he stopped. Something in him and told him not to go in.

The Slag Heap once was the place where junk was piled up on but someone made a ramshackle house where men or women could buy a room for a clandestine evening. Or where a man or a woman could buy a warm body to satisfy a craving or an itch. It grew into a sort of bar where you could easily buy expensive liquor, drugs, anything that not even the Hob carried.

For a good looking guy, he was no stranger to the environment within the illicit place. Gale turned and slunk into an alley to drink. To do what he did best, observe. As a trapper, he was conditioned to watch people, situations, things. He'd seen a lot of things as a kid.

Growing up, Gale's life wasn't perfect. It's why he wanted what he'd missed as a child. He wanted to be loved and he wanted to love. However, nothing he did or planned went his way. Was he doomed to live a lonely existence settling for someone who didn't see him? At the rate he was going, that was the bleary future.

Gale looked at the bottle, his eyes were hazy. He knew that drinking wasn't the answer. He slinked down in the alleyway. His legs were feeling numb and the snow looked like dancing fairies falling.

It was then he saw something he wasn't sure was real. Gale looked at the bottle, before peering into the dimly lit night. He stood and shuffled forward.

"What the hell?" Gale muttered. The creature looked like it materialized from a childhood storybook. Gale saw Little Red Riding Hood walking through the streets of the district and he wanted to follow her.

In his drunken state, Gale rubbed his eyes unsure if maybe this was the alcohol making this vision appear. The person in the red cloak and hood approached the alley where he was slouched. Her steps were hesitant, and although the hood hid her face he could see golden hair peek out from the folds of the cloak.

Looking at the bottle once more, he squinted, following silently with his eyes. In his head, Gale called her Red, as she slowly neared where he was. He watched her pause, look from side to side, before turning, not noticing him in the dark alley.

Like the silent wolf, Gale followed her in the darkness. He watched Red approach the Slag Heap. This intrigued him because in his head her hesitation, the way her hand reached out to touch the door but then withdrew, let him know she was innocent.

He watched her walk up to the small window and try to peer inside. Red's curiosity would burn her because if he was a wolf, she was facing the den of wolves. He had a choice to make, let her get eaten alive by the wildness inside of the Slag Heap, or save Red. That was the night his life changed.