Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Time seemed to freeze before Greyson.
She could feel her blood pounding in her ears and her heart beating erratically. Greyson's head, that had hit the base of a tree, was spinning as she tried to get oxygen back into her lungs. She was flat on her back, minus the few bumps from the pushed over terrain, because Katniss had been flung back into Greyson after Peeta had hit the edge of the arena.
Everything felt more wild, more in definition now that one of their team players wasn't breathing. Greyson did her best to sit up from her compromising position, ignoring the raging storm of a headache that was coming onto her, and watched the scene before her unfold.
Katniss was sobbing while checking Peeta for any signs that he may still be alive, and when she found that his chest didn't hold a steady heartbeat, she all but lost it. Greyson never thought of Katniss to be such an emotional person, but she also thought Finnick was too vain for his own good. Ever since she'd gotten to know him, Greyson had discovered he wasn't just the man everybody adored and wanted to be with – he had compassion and fear just like everybody else. He was human.
All the noise around Greyson seemed to finally connect into cords of sound waves that eventually rolled into her like a tsunami, hitting at full force. Finnick was beside Peeta, pressing his hands down just below the line of his chest in fast compressions. Greyson could see how much he was stressing to keep Peeta alive, to see him keeping track of how many chest compressions he did and the track of time, speed, and accuracy. Greyson crawled behind Katniss and watched the scene unfold, hoping that Peeta lived.
Katniss hovered by Finnick even after she tried shooting at him with an arrow, the world of green, thick foliage turning counterclockwise on Greyson. Her hand pressed over her mouth as the feeling of bile churning in her stomach increased; like how waves rocked a boat, back and forth, back and forth. She didn't want to throw up, she really didn't, but the moment seemed all too perfect for her not to. Just as Greyson heard Katniss cry in relief she turned her back towards the underbrush of the jungle and spilled all the contents from last night's dinner of green beans and steak, not to mention dessert, from her stomach.
Greyson gagged at herself, wrenching up an acidic and not so tasteful vomit. A hand was rubbing circles into her back as she finished her little undoing, the only person she could guess who it was would be Finnick. And right she was. Greyson turned around from the mess she created and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, cringing as the aftertaste lingered in her mouth. Greyson's nose was running and burning and her eyes started to swell up with tears.
"Ugh, this is gross, I'm really sorry." She said as a tear rolled down the side of her face.
Finnick looked at her with sad eyes and reached out to catch her tears like a child would catch a butterfly in a net. "Don't be sorry about something you can't control. You're fine, kitten." Greyson nodded and looked behind him to see Katniss helping Peeta stand up. Greyson began to do the same but Finnick stopped her. "Woah, you're not walking."
