Windgrass (A Hunger Games Fan Fiction)

Thirty-three: Frenzy

Something is wrong, so very wrong.

I woke up today feeling sick to my stomach. Nikolaus was sitting in bed, watching me. I had moved to the floor sometime during the night. Funny how, when all you dream about is sleeping in a soft bed, you prefer the cold, hard floor instead.

I’m honestly not sure what all happened today…

I can recall bits and pieces. Nothing concrete, really… eating something here; doodling on a piece of paper there… except the scene in which the garden is burning. The gardens are lush and green at first. I blink… and when I open my eyes again it’s glowing a brilliant orange. Someone pulled me away. I must’ve blinked again, because the next moment I’m lying on the floor in my temporary room. Another blink; I’m sitting on the roof of a train car. Another; Percy and I are staring at one another from opposite ends of a street.

That’s when things become more clear.

It’s dark out now, nearing curfew. Valley rushes towards me, keeping the ground away from me where is should be. His words sound distant, like he’s speaking softly from behind a closed door. I can see his face, contorted in worry. I think I mumbled something, but I can’t be sure. He picks me up easily, as if I weighed no more than a coat. His arms are strong, supporting my back and beneath my legs. My limbs feel numb. the background becomes a blur, undeterminable shapes and colors flying past me as breakneck speed. Only Valley remains constant, his blond hair catching the light of the street lamps as the night encroaches. Maybe it’s because I don’t have my glasses. Maybe I’m wearing contacts and they just need to be cleaned. Valley is the only thing that exists for me right now. Everything else is a blur.

We arrive at a house. It’s not mine, nor his. I don’t know whose it is, but we’re let inside swiftly.

He sits on the couch, still holding me. I start shivering; he tightens his grip. He’s warm… so warm… I can feel it through the fabric of his shirt. His warmth, the way he smells… all of him… I just couldn’t get enough. His hand grabs mine, preventing me from unbuttoning his shirt.

“…aphrodisiac…”

It’s the only word I recognize. I don’t know what it means, but I don’t care either. All I care about now is getting what I want… and Valley won’t let me. Instead, he sets me down on the couch so I’m lying on my back. I call out his name. I think my legs are moving, but I’m not certain. One hand claws at my chest; I’m pretty sure I’ve ripped my shirt. My other hand clings to Valley’s shirt desperately. He won’t move, won’t eve look at me. He’s talking to someone with long brown hair. It must be Élysée. I call his name again; he grabs my hand and holds it tightly. The world around me gets blurrier, less concrete. I think I’m falling asleep. I honestly don’t know. I don’t know at all. Nothing except Valley exists for me right now. He’s all I want, all I need… but I can’t have him, he won’t let me have him.

I don’t know what is happening to me.