| The Hunger Games one-shots |

Relief

Set after the reaping in Catching Fire

I run onto the train and stride purposefully down the lush carpeted corridor, I know he's following me but when I get to my room I just slam the door behind me. I don't want to speak to him.

I sit down on the bed and put my head in my hands. If i felt differently, i would blame this surge of emotion on the fact that I was forbidden to say goodbye to my family. But that would be sadness, all I feel now is anger, white hot anger. Who does he think he is? Of all the things he could have done to keep me safe, assuming that is, as he says, his intention. Making his death almost certain, and willingly so, is the worst way to go about it. It would have been so easy to just have him at home, even if it meant Haymitch going into the games, at least Haymitch doesn't value his own life as much as I hope Peeta does. As much as i do. 

And now that he's here with me, neither of us can be fully happy, no matter how this ends. I have my family, I have Gale, but there will forever be a horrible guilt inside me if I don't save him, if I don't pay back the debt. I always hated owing people, I almost liked owing Peeta, because it meant I had a reason to be near him that wasn't orchestrated by someone else.

And now he's messed everything up, everything we could have had, when I told him not to. I went to his house last night and I told him. I looked him straight in the eye, and told him I don't want him volunteering for Haymitch. He didn't even bother to say anything, didn't even nod. i ended up storming out without an answer. What is he playing at? I dig my fingers into my temples. How can he do this to me, and say he only wants to keep me safe? This can't possibly be what safe feels like. Maybe he has some big plan in his head, and I'm not a part of it, maybe it has nothing at all to do with me. Maybe he doesn't even care.

That would be worse, no matter how mad and angry and frustrated I feel, it's nothing compared to what it would be like if he didn't even care, never spared a thought for his ally in the 74th hunger games, if that's all i am to him now. An ally. A pawn in another of these wretched games. I spent my whole life never having cause to be selfish, teaching myself not to be. But now, all I want is him safe in District Twelve.

I slam my fist onto the bed beside me, my head swimming with confusing questions I can't answer. I rake my hands through my hair as I hear the door open. I whip my head around, my features already moving to a look of loathing. And there he is, silhouetted in the light from the doorway, his arms looped across his chest.

"Now are you going to tell me why you're mad at me, or am I just going to have to figure it out alone?" He's smiling, actually smiling , in a resolute way, like he's too clueless to do anything else, how can he not know. 

I transfer all my anger into my face and don't reply. If he can't figure it out for himself, I'm not going to tell him. He moves from the doorway and walks towards me, his face growing worried, the concern in his face heats up the anger inside me. He reaches out a hand to touch my shoulder and I flinch away, he jerks back, looking hurt.

"What is it? What have I done?" He says quietly, his eyes wary

"Really? How can you not know? For a person who spends an awful lot of time talking about me you don't know very much about me"

He furrows his eyebrows, confused
"is this about what you said last night? Is this about the reaping?" He looks astonished, there is startled laughter in his voice but I can tell he knows he's right.

He sees the look on my face and say's quietly, looking at the floor "I didn't think it would matter so much to you"

My eyes widen and I stand up "W-Wouldn't matter so much? Do you know me at all? What do you think last night was about? Just some casual warning?" my tone is rising and the anger is bubbling up inside of my, like a pot about to boil over.