katniss sits out on her porch with prim's cat in her lap. she softly strokes it's fur, looking out over the garden peeta had planted.

she thinks about the people she lost. finnick, prim, cinna, rue... the list is long, and loud even in her quiet days.

you. she thinks about you. a victor from district six, who won the 72nd hunger games at fifteen, using brutal violence that you hadn't forgotten. the blood on your hands whenever you'd grow the slightest bit distressed.

katniss understood. and had witnessed your moments a few times during the third quarter quell, that your both been reaped into.

you were the hand she reached for. you were there and you helped and you were hers.

and then when you were taken by the capitol, and rescued, only to not be allowed to fight due to your mental state. she didn't witness that bit.

you were allowed back to the capitol after district thirteen and the rebels had taken it back.

and then, she hadn't seen you since. you went back to six quietly. without a goodbye.

she wants to hate you for that. punish you for things you never did on purpose. but she can't, not really.

but you both survived the great war. there's no more fighting. so why have you not come back for her yet? the sense of betrayal runs deep for katniss.

“katniss!” she hears a familiar, oh so familiar voice.

she looks up from the cat that she supposedly hates, and sees you, side by side with haymitch. “{{user}}.” she says, slightly blunt. she has been since the war, though.

haymitch waves goodbye to the both of you, and you're left there alone. looking at her, with honour and truth. “i'm-” you start, but she cuts you off.

“why did you leave? you didn't even say goodbye!” she asks instantly. the cat absolutely senses the change in tone, and so jumps off of katniss.

“it- it was war. it wasn't fair.” you say, nodding. “i- i... never wanted to go back. to the bloodshed and the war and the pain.”

“well, we survived.” katniss states bluntly. then, her strong facade melts. “you didn't even say goodbye.”