kiss • of • death

Gale‘s touch and taste and heat remind me that at least my body‘s still alive, and for the moment it‘s a welcome feeling. I empty my mind and let the sensations run through my flesh, happy to lose myself. When Gale pulls away slightly, I move forward to close the gap, but I feel his hand under my chin. “Katniss,” he says. The instant I open my eyes, the world seems disjointed. This is not our woods or our mountains or our way. My hand automatically goes to the scar on my left temple, which I associate with confusion.

“Now kiss me.” Bewildered, unblinking, I stand there while he leans in and presses his lips to mine briefly. He examines my face closely. “What‘s going on in your head?”

“I don‘t know,” I whisper back.

“Then it‘s like kissing someone who‘s drunk. It doesn‘t count,” he says with a weak attempt at a laugh. He scoops up a pile of kindling and drops it in my empty arms, returning me to myself.

“How do you know?” I say, mostly to cover my embarrassment. “Have you kissed someone who‘s drunk?” I guess Gale could‘ve been kissing girls right and left back in 12. He certainly had enough takers. I never thought about it much before.

He just shakes his head. “No. But it‘s not hard to imagine.”

“So, you never kissed any other girls?” I ask.

“I didn‘t say that. You know, you were only twelve when we met. And a real pain besides. I did have a life outside of hunting with you,” he says, loading up with firewood.

Suddenly, I‘m genuinely curious. “Who did you kiss? And where?”

“Too many to remember. Behind the school, on the slag heap, you name it,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?”

“No. About six months before that. Right after New Year‘s. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae‘s. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized… I minded,” he tells me.

“Thanks for the water,” Peeta says.

“No problem,” Gale replies. “I wake up ten times a night anyway.”

“To make sure Katniss is still here?” asks Peeta.

“Something like that,” Gale admits.

There‘s a long pause before Peeta speaks again. “That was funny, what Tigris said. About no one knowing what to do with her.”

“Well, we never have,” Gale says.

They both laugh. It‘s so strange to hear them talking like this. Almost like friends. Which they‘re not. Never have been. Although they‘re not exactly enemies.

“Well, it won‘t be an issue much longer. I think it‘s unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it‘s Katniss‘s problem. Who to choose.” Gale yawns. “We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah.” I hear Peeta‘s handcuffs slide down the support as he settles in. “I wonder how she‘ll make up her mind.”

“Oh, that I do know.” I can just catch Gale‘s last words through the layer of fur. “Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can‘t survive without.”