Hunger Games, Gales POV (Everthorn)

Saving One

Prim

It has been exactly three weeks and two since Katniss left. One week and two days in the games. She was a survivor. I knew she'd win. She had to win. Everyday, I worked to make her proud of me and keep going. I sold all the milk I could from my goat, helped Gale whenever he needed it, and didn't let my mother see how scared I was. Everything Katniss would be able to do with ease. My mother had warned me that reporters would be coming, they would come to get a glimpse into the life of a final tribute. Every year they did this, every year the families looked so sad, the friends so lost. I knew Gale would look bored, if he wasn't happy, he looked utterly bored. He, nor Katniss, showed emotion. My mother would be soft spoken, proud but quiet. I no longer knew who to be. I didn't want to look sad, I wanted Katniss to see me in her absence as strong.

The games kept our television lit, day and night. I tried to not watch, knowing the deaths would haunt my nightmares, but sometimes I couldn't help but look. Katniss looked like herself, a little skinnier, a little more on edge, but herself. I spent most of my time behind our house; it was littered with flowers. I moved my goat back there, closer to me. Every day, I sat out there, knowing my mother would alert me if the games got bad.

My mother's scream awoke me from a world of daydreams. Her scream could only mean one thing, Katniss. I watched the aftermath of her fall, a slip from a tree. My mind reeled, Katniss never had fallen from a tree like that. It was almost as though something had pushed her. She cradled her wrist to her chest, not making any sounds or showing signs of weakness. The other tribute were each shown after her, each with a problem that could easily mean death for them. I could feel what was coming, a plan to lure them all together. A way to guarantee that the last deaths of the games would be worthwhile.
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Gale

They handed me a small mirror to look at myself in. The camera crew had arrived hours ago, but this was the first time since they had entered that a stylists hands hadn't been on me. They had grabbed my nicest white shirt and black slacks, hanging them for me to change into. But, nothing else was my own. They cut and restyled my hair so it was pushed back unnaturally, applied a generous amount of makeup for wanting me to look as though they opened my door and started filling immediately. When I was looking well enough for their standards, I was pushed onto my couch; which they had stripped of all bedding. A reporter sat in his own chair and began to ask me hours worth of questions.

"How do you know Katniss?"

An easy question, just mention nothing about the woods or hunting, "We met at school. She caught my eye one day and I approached her. Ever since then, we've been inseparable."

"How did you feel when Prim's name got chosen and Katniss volunteered?"

This one I answered honestly, "I... I don't know? It was, an immediate feeling of numbness. We have never been apart before. But, I knew I had to be strong for her, hold together her family for her. So, ever since that moment, I've been doing just that. Giving her a place to come home to."

The questions continued, all digging at an answer that I didn't seem to be supplying, "Did you think she'd make it this far in the games?"

"Yes. Of course. She's a fighter. When she makes a promise, she keeps it. She promised her sister that she'd come home. She's going to do just that."

I kept trying to answer honestly, hoping it would give them the answer they wanted so badly, "What is your relationship?"

At that moment, the pieces slid into place, they were looking for a love story. If that's what would make the capitol fall for Katniss, then that was exactly what I would give them, "I can't believe I'm even saying this, but I have loved Katniss since the day I met her. All I want is for her to come home so I can tell her how much I love her. I can only hope she'll accept when I propose"