After she’s settled in her new home, with Gale is hundreds of feet below her in the mines, Katniss stands by the fence for hours on end just listening to the humming wires that remind her of his voice.
She thinks of his steady hands and warm breath on the back of her neck as they moved through the trees like ghosts, invisible and intangible except to each other. The bark of the tree like a language only they could speak.
They used to talk for hours.
--
Her smiles don’t come as easily anymore, even in the woods. There are times she doesn’t even bother retrieving her bow from the tree, preferring to sit silently by, watching Gale set traps. He feels guilty for never asking her if she wants to talk about the games, the things she’s seen in the arena.
But he’s not sure he wants to know. Not now when they’re so close to perfecting this silence. This passable facsimile of the ease they once had.
--
When Gale misses three Sundays in a row, Katniss finds him on his way to the mines. There’s a bruise on his cheek, probably from one of the new peacekeepers. She’s stopped in her tracks at the sight of it, thinks that whatever happened she should have been there.
She reaches out a hand to touch him but he catches her wrist between his fingers, says “It’s fine, Katniss. It’s nothing.”
Katniss. He only ever calls her Katniss now, like he's addressing a proper victor.
She wants to slap him, or shake him, and scream that she’s still the same. The angry spot on his cheek and the uncertain taste of those words in her mouth keep her silent. How can see scream at him with conviction when she can’t even persuade herself.
Is she the same?
“Good. Then I better see you on Sunday,” she says with venom, unsure who she’s even mad at anymore but furious all the same. The fact that neither of them would have to hunt another day in their lives with all the money she has goes unspoken.
--
She’s lost count of the number of times she’s packed a bag in the middle of the night.
”We could do it, y’know?”
--
Katniss catches him staring at her. His hard edges and stoic features softening, deep in thought and entirely unreadable.
She leans across the log she’s using to clean out the entrails of a rabbit, blood underneath her fingernails, and brushes her lips against his.
It only takes a second for Gale’s hands to wrap around the back of her neck, a gesture so innocently familiar that it makes her ache. His mouth claims hers and she runs her tongue along the roof of his mouth.
He pulls her onto his lap, needing to feel the weight of her body against his, to drown in her.
Katniss knows now that this is part of her victory. Her reward was a second chance at the taste of Gale on her lips and his arms wrapped around her.
--
They are only ever together deep in the woods, beyond the prying eye of cameras that aim to capture a moment that would surely mean death for one or both.
Gale traces his fingers across the crook of her elbow and the bend of her knee. He kisses the place on her collarbone where a scar used to be. Should be. His lips remember all the marks of these woods (of him) that the Capitol erased from Katniss’ skin. The ones on his own body are now without their match.
And he feels further from her in these moments than he did while watching her with a knife to her throat on the District 12 screens.
But the scrape of her nails down his back and her voice when she whispers she missed him make this feel real. Make them feel real.
Gale pulls her bare thigh up tighter against his hips and moves deeper inside her, a strangled sound escaping his lips. Katniss watches the muscles of his neck strain and she clenches tighter around him as she comes.
She listens to Gale breath and leans her forehead against his shoulder. The leaves are cool against her skin where they lie and the air smells like the ashes of their bridges being unburned.
This was fucking heartbreaking! ESPECIALLY: And he feels further from her in these moments than he did while watching her with a knife to her throat on the District 12 screens. But also especially ALL OF IT. The scars! The stuff about her lack of scars was sooooo great. omg I'm so glad you wrote something because this was wonderful.
and so r u
Oh also: “Good. Then I better see you on Sunday,” she says with venom, unsure who she’s even mad at anymore but furious all the same. This was so spot-on perfectly Katniss; that's all I could think when I read that part!
His lips remember all the marks of these woods (of him) that the Capitol erased from Katniss’ skin. The ones on his own body are now without their match.
so so so beautiful, i don't even know what to say. just - really lovely ♥
Oh. They're such different people now and yet they go back to each other because they've loved each other from the start. This is so stunning and heartbreaking and you captured how well they fit together but also how much they don't after everything that's happened so perfectly. Thanks so much for this. <3 Really amazing stuff.
This is so beautiful. It's so quiet and desperate and skfshdkgh. I especially love this part The bark of the tree like a language only they could speak.
After she’s settled in her new home, with Gale is hundreds of feet below her in the mines, Katniss stands by the fence for hours on end just listening to the humming wires that remind her of his voice.
She thinks of his steady hands and warm breath on the back of her neck as they moved through the trees like ghosts, invisible and intangible except to each other. The bark of the tree like a language only they could speak.
They used to talk for hours.
--
Her smiles don’t come as easily anymore, even in the woods. There are times she doesn’t even bother retrieving her bow from the tree, preferring to sit silently by, watching Gale set traps. He feels guilty for never asking her if she wants to talk about the games, the things she’s seen in the arena.
But he’s not sure he wants to know. Not now when they’re so close to perfecting this silence. This passable facsimile of the ease they once had.
--
When Gale misses three Sundays in a row, Katniss finds him on his way to the mines. There’s a bruise on his cheek, probably from one of the new peacekeepers. She’s stopped in her tracks at the sight of it, thinks that whatever happened she should have been there.
She reaches out a hand to touch him but he catches her wrist between his fingers, says “It’s fine, Katniss. It’s nothing.”
Katniss. He only ever calls her Katniss now, like he's addressing a proper victor.
She wants to slap him, or shake him, and scream that she’s still the same. The angry spot on his cheek and the uncertain taste of those words in her mouth keep her silent. How can see scream at him with conviction when she can’t even persuade herself.
Is she the same?
“Good. Then I better see you on Sunday,” she says with venom, unsure who she’s even mad at anymore but furious all the same. The fact that neither of them would have to hunt another day in their lives with all the money she has goes unspoken.
--
She’s lost count of the number of times she’s packed a bag in the middle of the night.
”We could do it, y’know?”
--
Katniss catches him staring at her. His hard edges and stoic features softening, deep in thought and entirely unreadable.
She leans across the log she’s using to clean out the entrails of a rabbit, blood underneath her fingernails, and brushes her lips against his.
It only takes a second for Gale’s hands to wrap around the back of her neck, a gesture so innocently familiar that it makes her ache. His mouth claims hers and she runs her tongue along the roof of his mouth.
He pulls her onto his lap, needing to feel the weight of her body against his, to drown in her.
Katniss knows now that this is part of her victory. Her reward was a second chance at the taste of Gale on her lips and his arms wrapped around her.
--
They are only ever together deep in the woods, beyond the prying eye of cameras that aim to capture a moment that would surely mean death for one or both.
Gale traces his fingers across the crook of her elbow and the bend of her knee. He kisses the place on her collarbone where a scar used to be. Should be. His lips remember all the marks of these woods (of him) that the Capitol erased from Katniss’ skin. The ones on his own body are now without their match.
And he feels further from her in these moments than he did while watching her with a knife to her throat on the District 12 screens.
But the scrape of her nails down his back and her voice when she whispers she missed him make this feel real. Make them feel real.
Gale pulls her bare thigh up tighter against his hips and moves deeper inside her, a strangled sound escaping his lips. Katniss watches the muscles of his neck strain and she clenches tighter around him as she comes.
She listens to Gale breath and leans her forehead against his shoulder. The leaves are cool against her skin where they lie and the air smells like the ashes of their bridges being unburned.
fin
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This was fucking heartbreaking! ESPECIALLY: And he feels further from her in these moments than he did while watching her with a knife to her throat on the District 12 screens. But also especially ALL OF IT. The scars! The stuff about her lack of scars was sooooo great. omg I'm so glad you wrote something because this was wonderful.
and so r u
Oh also: “Good. Then I better see you on Sunday,” she says with venom, unsure who she’s even mad at anymore but furious all the same. This was so spot-on perfectly Katniss; that's all I could think when I read that part!
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I'm glad you like it! Thank you, hon :)
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*hugs*
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first off, forever calling bullshit on your 'i can't write' stance.
secondly, I DON'T WANT THESE FEELS, GET THE AWAY.
also, i really really enjoyed this line, Katniss. He only ever calls her Katniss now, like he's addressing a proper victor.
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It makes me happy knowing that I could give someone unwanted feelings ;)
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so so so beautiful, i don't even know what to say.
just - really lovely ♥
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I especially love this part
The bark of the tree like a language only they could speak.
They used to talk for hours.
;_______;
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I'm so glad you liked it :)
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