Pure Torture: a Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 72

Katniss

"And after the storm, I run and run as the rains come. And I look up, I look up, on my knees and out of luck, I look up." -Mumford and Sons

Peeta puts his arm protectively around my shoulder as we wait for Johanna and Eric.

"You okay? We can tell them tonight's not going to work out, actually." Peeta says.
"Yeah." I say, shaking a little as I sigh.
"Are you sure?" He asks.
I nod my head, but he's unconvinced.

I sit at the table. When there's finally a knock at the door, I practically jump out of my seat.
Peeta gives me a questioning look, but I wave him off.
"Sorry, just a little on edge." I say.
He nods and answers the door.

I get up from the table to give Johanna a hug.
"Doing okay?" She asks.
"Yeah." I lie, "I'm fine."
"You look a little pale." says the man behind her.
I peer at him and he smiles, holding his hand out.
"Hi. I'm Eric." He says.
"Hi." I say quietly, shaking his hand, "I'm sure you know who I am."

"Definitely." He says before laughing.
At least he seems happy.

"Come on in." Peeta says.
"It smells great in here." Eric says, sniffing.
"Chicken," I say, "Peeta made it."
Eric nods.
Peeta takes their coats and they sit down at the table. Peeta and I join them.

We all serve ourselves, family style, and we begin eating. It's sort of an awkward silence between the four of us as we eat. It's horrible.
I decide impulsively to break the ice.
"So, Eric," I say, "Where are you from?"
"Grew up in 9." He says simply.
"Grain? What was it like?" Peeta asks.
"Flat." He says, "The land was flat. You could see for miles and miles over the plains."

"Sounds nice." Peeta replies.
"The peacekeepers were okay for a while, some of them were nice, but after your first games they started cracking down. It was like they wanted to crush any resistance before it happened." Eric adds.

"That's like what happened here." I say.
"And in 7." Johanna adds.

"Yeah," Eric says, "Around that time I was 19. Once, they, uh, well... My little sister Margo got a dead turkey from our neighbor. I was there when she got it, they willingly gave it to us, but then they went to the peacekeepers. They told them that they saw her hunting out of district bounds and that's how she got the turkey. The peacekeepers came and took her to the square and they cuffed her up. She took two bullets to the head. Died a minute or two later."

"Oh my God." I say, "How old was she?"
"Sixteen." Eric says.
"Sixteen..." I repeat quietly.
Johanna places her hand on top of Eric's, comforting him.
"I'm so sorry." I say.
"Nothing you need to be sorry for. And besides, I know you know how it feels. Losing a little sibling."

The memory of Prim's fiery death comes as a stab.
I nod my head a little.
"Yeah... Uh... I do." I reply.
This is morbid. And depressing. Thank God Peeta's there to change the subject.

"So, how long have you two been together for?" He asks.
"A little over a year." Johanna says smugly.
"A year?" I ask, "You said he was your new lover."

"Whatever. I lied." She says.
"Well." I say, rolling my eyes.
She goes to say something cutting, which isn't unlike her, but she stops herself.
Eric and Peeta exchange glances across the table.

I laugh at the thought of the messages their looks are sending each other.
We're in love with mad women.
What on Earth did we get ourselves into?
I swear to God, if one of them tries to go at the other, I'll laugh.

"So," Eric says, "I hear you two are expecting?"
"Yeah. A girl. Due in May." I reply.
"That's wonderful. I'm sure it means a lot to you, considering everything that's happened in the past years." Eric says, trying to avoid any touchy topics but still trying to convene his point.