An Unfinished Battle (The Hunger Games FanFiction)

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Peeta and I part lips after a long, lazy kiss. I sigh, and lay snuggled close to him, still without a care in the world.

He lightly runs his fingertips from the roots of my hair all the way down to the ends, where he twirls his finger around my chestnut curls. My hair circles his fingers and then falls down onto my shoulder. I feel the warmth radiate off him as his chest slowly heaves up and down in perfect rhythm.

I lift my head and prop myself up with my elbow, "What time is it?" I mumble in a sleepy slure.

Peeta cranes his neck to peer at the clock, "Just about 6 o'clock" My eyelids flutter shut, my body yearns for more sleep.I take a deep breath in and then out, trying wake myself up. "I suppose you want to leave here and get headed back home as soon as we can, we better get up."

I nod my head, not wanting to speak of last night or my nightmare. I pull off the covers and slide out of bed as I shuffle on over to the bathroom. I squint my eyes as my pupils adjust from the dimness of the bedroom to the fluorescent light of the bathroom.

When my eyes finally settle from their shock, I once again see myself in the mirror. I look just about as awful as I feel. The black, smeared remains of my eye make up makes me look like I've been punched in both eyes. There is a trail of pale skin that streams down the length of my cheeks where the bronzer, blush, and foundation were washed away with my tears. My hair is in a strange, unnatural stage in between the iron pressed curls and my natural straight, leaving it an awkward mess.

I turn away, I've examined my image far too much this weekend. I let Peeta's oversized T-shirt slip off my body and I slither out of my undergarments until I am bare. I pad into the glass shower and observe my options.

Ever since President Paylor took over and founded the N.C., all the districts were given equal wealth and rights. So now, all the showers throughout Panem are the same showers that the O.C. Used to have. All the showers everywhere are the same as the one I marveled over in the 74th games.

Despite all the luxurious options of the over glorified shower, I find myself stuck on the most simple choice in the world; hot or cold. The hot will help relieve the tension in my tight muscles me and it will let all the worries melt right off of me, kind of like like butter on toast. however, the cold would be a great wake up call and remind me of home, and not the home I know now the old home. The home where everything was okay, and I had a Happy mother and father and sister. The home where I had no option but to choose the cold.

I punch a blue button that protrudes out from the tile wall. The ceiling above me opens up and reveals a spout that trickles out water. The droplets come out cold, and hard. They hit the nerves in my back like needles, but I don't mind. It makes me feel clean, and alive. I let the freezing water soak into me, I allow it to kill every bad thought, dream, and worry that ever existed. The water cleanses me free from the world.

I bring a washcloth up to my face and scrub away all the makeup. I never really enjoyed makeup in the first place, it's the barrier that hides the world away from who Katniss Everdeen really is. I tilt my head back an let the my hair drink up the chilling water and watch as the luscious locks dissolve.

Feeling refreshed, I step out of the glass door, and wrap my body with a pristine white towel, it looks as pure as I now feel.

I open the bathroom door, only to find Peeta all packed up and ready to go. "Well, look at you." He says with a sly smirk and a wink.

I roll my eyes playfully, "Would you mind grabbing me some clothes out of my bag?" I ask him.

"Why do we keep running into this problem here?" He laughs, "Nah, I don't mind," he says "But I think you look pretty damn fine with just that towel on Ms. Everdeen"