#thgfic

Most days, when I have little to do and nowhere to be since I do not pick up shifts anywhere, I find myself in the food court. I like being in here with all the buzzing and talks from other people. It is not nice to be alone with my thoughts for too long, but ever since this morning when Katniss gave her marvelous performance in front of the cameras, I have not been able to stop thinking that we finally have leverage to get Effie and Peeta back. Katniss is holding her end of the deal, thus Coin has to as well. The thought of soon having Effie close to me again is enough to make my lungs feel like they are on fire. I think I might lose my mind the moment I get to feel her soft cheek against my stubbled, salt and peppered one again. If she was still alive. I had to believe that she was. The alternative was enough to make me want to end it all. I lift my gaze from my cup of water, and it falls on another lonely lifeform a few feet away. Finnick sits alone by his table, his head hung low, his food untouched. I think he might be the one, except for Katniss, other individual down here who feels what I am feeling right now. They got his girl too. Loony little Annie Cresta. I never did understand what he saw in that girl, but he probably knew her better than I ever did. I suppose the few people who know of mine and Effie’s explosive love affair may think the same of me. Whatever did I ever see in a stuck up, know it all Capitol mannequin like her? Truth was, I did not know it myself all together. I just knew I had known her longer than anyone there, and I had spent years thinning and wondering what those pink lips would feel like wrapped around me, moaning my name, whispering my praises when I made her finish, and I always do.

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A little romance on a cold evening.

send me the first line of a fic and I will write five-ish more

I knew she loved him, of course, even if she never knew that herself before the war was over. But she did. Not in the way I had once loved Lenore Dove, not like Gale loved Katniss or even like her mother had loved Burdock. No. She loved him in a way only she would ever understand, once she realized it. It is perhaps much like the way in which I can barely breathe when Effie stands near me. Or how the seasons alone and without her in Twelve brings me to the brink of madness every year. I did not dare to say it aloud then, what I really felt for her, but I think she knew anyway…she had this way of looking through me and realizing my every emotion, even when I denied them myself.  I think the worst moment of my first few weeks in Thirteen was when I had to see Katniss break down before the ruins of our home through Gale’s bodycam. I had imagined the damage, but seeing it…and the bodies piling up along the main street. I had not wanted to drink so badly in weeks, until I saw that. 910 survivors…out of 10.000. I regretted sending her there immediately, but I made no remark and I did not demand that they brought her back. She had to see it. Had to be made to feel anger and frustration. We needed it, even if I hated having to force it out of her like this. When she came back I was first to meet her when she got in from the hangar. She seemed alright, despite the survivor's guilt probably eating away at her from the inside.  “Of course the fuckin’ cat made it…” I sighed when I heard him growl and hiss from inside her bag.  “They’ll need proper nuclear weapons to finish him off,” Katniss said, and grinned a little. It was nice to know she still knew how to do that, despite everything. 

If you want a tale about heroes, you’re in the wrong bunker. But if you want the truth—raw, unpleasant, stupidly hopeful at times—pull up one of District Thirteen’s uncomfortable chairs. I’ve got a story, and for once, I’m sober enough to tell it.

I am absolutely in love with the way atetheredmind writes, especially when it comes to smut. If you are in love with Everlark like I am, have a look at some of these fics and you'll thank me.