The Future Mockingjay🕊️

Chapter Twenty One

▫️Willow ▫️

"So when did you....meet Dylan? Before we met?" Mark asks while rigging up a snare carefully.

"No. Never met him before. My mom and dad knew his parents. Before the war." I explained. "Why?"

"Why would you team up with him?" He asks finished with the snare.

"He's counted as a friend, Mark." I answer, perplexed. We're probably holding the screen right now, from the moment Dylan appeared. "Let's go back. I need to check on Dylan, anyway." Mark looked liked he was about to say something, but decided against it. We walk back to the cave in silence.

"Hey. How's your forehead?" The snow had melted, and the wound looked much better.

"Better, a lot! Thanks." He says, and caught my hand. "You need your sleeping bag, don't you? Well, I can sleep on the ground."

I hesitated. "Oh, come on. I'm the intruder here!" He replies with a smirk. "And I can keep watch."

"Fine. Tell me if anything is wrong." I say snuggling into the sleeping bag. Mark joins me a moment later, but he stays sitting up.

"Mark! We've already got Dylan!" I say, trying to pull him into the safety of the sleeping bag. He raises an eyebrow at me, and his gaze rests on Dylan. He still doesn't trust him.

"Mark, you can't stay up forever!" I whisper.

"Fine." He says, finally giving in.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I woke up in the night, freezing. I sit up slowly so as to not wake Mark up. I realised Dylan was still awake.

"Hey, Dylan." I say softly, making my way to him near the entrance of the cave and stepping over the sleeping bodies.

He startles, turning to me. "Oh. Hey." His mouth twitches up into a grin. I suddenly notice how his sea-green eyes shine in the moonlight.

"My mom talked to me about your parents a lot." He says, breaking the silence as I sat beside him facing the world outside.

"What about?" I ask, curious.

"How your mother saved the world. Your father helping to keep her alive. My father dying from trying to fight some mutts. My mom and my father's wedding. How your mom's sister died from a bomb. The horrors from her games. Especially the watching-people-die part. " He says, smiling sadly. "Our families had quite a history together, don't you think..."

I'm quiet, soaking up all this information. My mom rarely talks about it, and when she does, her eyes become glassy, and she starts to tremble and shake.

"Wow..." Was all I could say.

"And now we are in in. The Hunger Games." He says after a moment.

"I'm so sorry about your father, I didn't know..." I trailed off, turning towards Dylan's face.

"It's fine. Really. Just...sometimes...i ask myself what it would be like...if he didn't...die..."

I didn't care if we were being recorded. I didn't care if the sponsors back home didn't like it. I didn't care, or think about it.

I put my arms around Dylan, hugging him tight as tears streamed down my face. From fear. From how hard it must be for Dylan without his father.

He surprises me by hugging me back as a huge sob racks his body. He buries his face in my hair, so the cameras can't see him crying, I suppose.

We stay like that, until we fall asleep, and until Mark, Thyme and Perla wakes us up.

I can see by just one look at Mark's face that he feels hurt.