katniss everdeen (fireandarrows) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2015-11-14 18:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, gale hawthorne, katniss everdeen |
Who: Katniss & Gale
What: sads over Prim
When: on the... idk, 12th? Slightly backdated.
Where: Gale's apartment
Warnings: all the feels.
All the grief Katniss had been holding back for Prim's sake was bound to come out sometime. She just hadn't been expecting it to happen now.
Somehow, she'd made it through the night with Prim and Rue and the cats without breaking down into tears, though she'd come close more times than she could count. She was still determined not to burden her sister with her grief, not force Prim to comfort her over her own death, because it was supposed to be the other way around. But of course that was never true anymore. Prim was the one who'd grown up enough, was strong enough, to handle all of this. Katniss hadn't grown up, not really, she'd just been broken.
She didn't sleep, the entire night. She couldn't. Her nightmares would come and she would start screaming, and then she'd cry, and she couldn't do that. She held on to Prim like a lifeline, and somehow made it through the night.
When morning came, she was exhausted but hanging on, barely. And then she'd made the mistake of responding to Peeta and Johanna, who didn't understand. She left their apartment, intending to head for the roof, but ended up in the corner of the hallway instead, unable to get all the way there. She curled up on herself to try to prevent herself from crying, but didn't succeed; the tears came anyway. No one understood the way she felt about Prim, she couldn't go to them for comfort. Except Gale. Oh god, she really needed Gale.
She didn't move until she'd finally heard from him, and then managed to get to her feet, shakily, to go and find him. Her body moved of its own accord, without her paying any attention to it; she didn't know if she had knocked, or tried the handle, or if he'd just opened it for her at exactly the right time. She couldn't keep track of anything at all, until suddenly, mercifully, he was there. She walked right towards him, fisted her hands in his shirt, buried her face in his chest, and gave up on trying not to cry.
It was like a dam breaking, a horrible, destructive flood. She couldn't even bring herself to care about whether it made her seem weak, or how much she was soaking his shirt. It didn't matter. She knew Gale wouldn't judge her for it, because he knew how she felt, right down to the horrible guilt. He loved Prim and felt responsible for her, too.