Star Crossed Killers

8: The Training

I'm in the mine, the earth is piling on top of me, but I have to find my father. Where is he? A rock hits my leg and I fall down.

"Katniss!" I hear Peeta shouting, "What are you still doing here?" he is holding a spear, prodding at me "Are you mad?" Why is he in the mines? He shouldn't be here "Get up! Get up!" I rise, but he's still pushing at me. What? I look around, but we're not in the mines, we are in unfamiliar woods. "Run!" he screams. "Run!"

I run away, right into the red haired girl, the avox. She cuts my leg with a sword and I scream, stumbling past trees, listening for the roar of a stream. I think I'm getting closer.

But the roar of water turns to the screams of Prim, and suddenly I'm on the ground, where Prim is dangling a knife over me. I beg her to stop, and just as she taps the knife to my neck, Peeta stabs her with his spear. I shoot him with an arrow in retaliation, but the arrow lights him on fire. He's burning and then I am too.

I am on fire. I am the girl on fire.

"Katniss," Peeta's voice is in my ear, "wake up." Oh, I was dreaming. I open my eyes, and Peeta is lying next to me in bed, soft gray light beaming into a large bedroom, my large bedroom. At least, mine until I die. And Peeta is sleeping in the room, my room, with me. We've never done that before. On occasion we've taken naps in the woods while lounging around during hot summer days, but never have we slept in the same bed. He's never even seen my bed back home. He's lying on his side, looking at me with concerned blue eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a dream," I reply, sitting up in bed. He nods and reaches one hand up to stroke my cheek.

"Not a very good one, I'm assuming?" I smile wryly.

"Not my best." I look out my window, at the skyline of the Capital. The morning air is cool and misty, almost giving the impression of being haunted. I shiver a little and wrap the comforter a little tighter around me.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Peeta asks, sitting up next to me so our shoulder are touching.

"No," I killed you. You killed Prim. We're burning.

"Okay," he says quietly. We sit in silence for a few minutes. "If you're sure you're okay, I should probably get back to my room before anybody notices I'm not in my bed, and I would like to take a shower."

"Okay," I say, giving him a one armed side hug.

"See you later, Katniss Everdeen," he says with a smile, and then launches himself off the bed, drops to the ground, and does a somersault.

"What are you doing!" I whisper shout at him, confused but smiling.

"Covert operation," he whispers back, "Main operative: getting back to my room unseen." He grins and jumps to his feet, then slams his body against the wall, does a meaningless hand motion, and sneaks out the door. I'm shaking with laughter as he leaves, and I'm still smiling as I head to my bathroom to take a shower.

I still don't really understand the buttons in the shower, and I end up jumping up and down as I'm assaulted by alternating jets steaming hot and freezing cold water. Then I'm lathered up in a sickly sweet lemony foam that I have to scrape off with a scratchy, bristled brush.

I dry myself off and moisturize my skin with a vanilla scented lotion— at least I can manage that part of the shower— and step back into my room, enrobed in a fluffy white bath towel. I'm surprised to find an outfit laid out for me at the front of my closet. Tight black pants, a long-sleeved burgundy tunic, and leather shoes. I plait my hair in my usual braid and look at my reflection in a gilded full length mirror. I'm satisfied to see that I look like myself. No fancy makeup, no fiery costumes, no technologically advanced bodysuits. I look like I might be back home, packing my bag to head out for the woods. Except maybe a bit cleaner. In any case, I'm calmed by the sight.