Wrath

Anger. That's all I could feel for my best friend when she came home from the Hunger Games alive. I should have been over the moon. Grateful. Proud. The happiest man alive. But she came home with him. Star-crossed lovers.

The pain had passed a while ago, something in my heart breaking. And while I was sure it was still there, the most potent feeling at the moment, the one where she's on that stage waving to the cheering crowds of District 12 is anger. I hate everything at the moment. I hate Peeta for beating me to the punch (and confessing his love in the first place) let alone acting on it. I hate her for going with it even if it was only to save herself and possibly him, because who is this girl? Certainly not my Catnip, the one so against love and anything that comes with it. Never even gave it thought. She could have won without him or the star-crossed lovers, of that I'm certain. But she went with it.

And most of all, I hate myself. For not telling her beforehand how I feel. For being cut off when I told her goodbye. For not just kissing her one of those times that I had the urge to. For not volunteering, because maybe that would have been me up there with her, the star-crossed lovers. At least that would have seemed more realistic than this. For going along with the fucking cousin thing just so this stupid story could be pulled off. For loving her in the first place and causing myself all this pain. Why did I even bother, really?

So as I watch Katniss come down and hug her sister first, I stare at Peeta with his family and think of all the ways I could gladly get my anger out. Kill him right here with my bare hands. Punch him right in the face for stealing my girl even if she was never in that way, or at least not yet. All sorts of sickening daydreams that make me feel better for just thinking them, because even through this…wrath of mine, I know I can't do it for real. The daydreams are all I have and all I can ever have, because if I did any of them I would most likely be killed myself. And my family still needs me, I have to work in the mines to make money and hunt for them when I can for extra money. Because like hell am I going to take Katniss's star-crossed lover blood money, not a single coin. I don't want it. I want nothing at all to do with it.

And yet when she comes to give me a hug, I let her, hiding my anger for at least now. There are cameras, you know. But the anger is still boiling inside of me, just begging to come out.

And one of these days, I just might let it.