The dialouge in this story between Katniss and Gale is the real diaglouge in Mockingjay. The events are real. I just wrote this in Gale's POV

I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES AND THE ACTUAL EVENTS BELOW THAT HAPPENED IN MOCKINGJAY. ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS.

I walk down the hallway of the mansion.

"One step in front on the other." I repeat in my head.

"Right here." the guard ushers, opening the door to Katniss's room.

I enter and lightly tap my knuckle onto the wood door.

"Can I have a minute?" I ask, walking in on her and her prep team.

She looks amazing from someone who just walked out of war. Her eyes showcase longing.

She looks to her prep team and they scuttle around before they find a place in the bathroom behind closed doors.

I come up behind her in the life-sized mirror. What would have happened if this person, this girl, had not been reaped into the Hunger Games? I could have had a chance, that's what. I may have been able to tell her my feelings for her, but no. She became of Capitol design. She was never the same. Katniss, my best friend.

"I brought you this," I say holding up a nearly vacant sheath of arrows clenched tightly in my left hand. I can't do this. I can't let her go. "It's supposed to be symbolic. You firing the last shot of the war."

"What if I miss?" she mumbles. "Does coin retrieve it and bring it back to me? Or just shoot Snow through the head herself?"

My face wants to fall. Katniss, the broken beyond repair person who is slowly slipping from my grasp.

"You won't miss."

She won't take the sheath so I drape it over her shoulder. We stand there face-to-face avoiding each others stained gray eyes.

"You didn't visit me in the hospital." She's right, I didn't.

Why didn't I? Oh yes, I was too busy pouring over what I was to say to Katniss for this very moment. I didn't get a lot of thinking done despite the two bullet wounds that were in my side.

"Was it your bomb?" she chokes. The bomb. The bomb that killed Prim. Poor defenseless Primrose.

"I don't know. Neither does Beetee," I gush.

But wait, something else comes to mind. "Does it matter?" I whisper. "You'll always be thinking about it."

I wait for her to deny it. Deny the very thought of me being as cruel and unrelentless as I have already presented my self to be. But her silence gives away her answer.

Now, my face truly falls and I know this is it. I must give her something. Something to think about, but what?

"That was the one thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family." I mutter, trying to conceal the anger that is growing on me from her silence. But once again, my shoulders sag. "Shoot straight, okay?"

I brush my hand to her cheek for one last touch, one last connection before I walk out the door and out of my best friends life.

Review for more:)