“i had to see it for myself.” ( @illaqveo )
it's not like it's a surprise that he's here. i knew he was coming. maybe i should have met him at the train station. that's what i would have done a long time ago. it would have been ... it would have felt like being shot, though, so i'd hidden in my house like a coward for half the day until i finally felt like i could breathe. that doesn't mean the breath is knocked out of me when i first see him standing where the fence used to be. even the reminders of it are gone. i don't know what they did with the twisted, half-melted metal. maybe thom found some use for it.
for a moment i feel like nothing happened. like gale's about to look over his shoulder and smile, call me catnip, and that we're going to head out to the trees with our bows. he'll ask about prim and i'll ask about posy and - and. and. my arms fold over my middle and i can't make myself move any closer to him, but i don't flee, which is better than i thought i'd do. part of me is still furious with him, even though now i know it's not fair. part of me wants to hug him. all of me wants to cry.
"the wildflowers are growing back." it's all i can think to say. it doesn't feel like enough, but what else is there? gale used to be one of the few people in the world i could talk to. i miss it. i miss him. but it's not the same now.
