The Hunger Games- What If's (Fan Fiction)

Chapter Eight

   I made my way to a little river's edge to stop for a drink and rethink my plan.

   I know I have to find Peeta. He definitely can't survive if I don't find him soon, especially because Cato was talking about how he cut him. Where did he cut him? Would I be able to treat his wound well enough for him to live?

   Just then, I heard a soft groan. I instantly stood up and snatched my bow and arrow.

   "Who's there?" I demanded, loading an arrow into the string of my bow.

   "K-Katniss..." The voice was so weak, but I instantly knew whose it was. It was Peeta, who just spoke my name.

   "Peeta! Peeta, where are you?" I asked frantically. I let the bow and arrow fall to the ground as I began to search for the boy.

   "Loo-ook d-d-own..." I could tell he was in a lot of pain, not t mention the fact that he probably hasn't had any food or water for the last couple of days.

   "I... I can't... find you," I said softly, getting worried. Then I noticed it. The pair of eyes staring back at mine. The same eyes that were once so filled with dignity and courage, now filled with fear and longing.

   I smiled weakly and was absolutely relieved that he was still alive. "Well, I think we should get you out of the ground, don't you?" I joked.

   Peeta managed to give me a smile, but I could tell that it was forced. "Y-ea," I put my finger to his  lips.

   "No. No talking, not yet. Not until I know you'll be alright and cleaned up," Peeta nodded slightly.

   I helped Peeta sit up and together, we finally got him to sit in the river against a large rock so I could wash him.

   "You're a mess, you know," I said, trying to make him smile. Though he was trying his best, he just didn't seem like the same Peeta that declared his undying love for me at the interviews.

   "Stupid me, thinking that I would get to him in time to save him. Why did I neglect him? Why wasn't I here for him?"  I thought solemnly to myself. I could feel myself begin to frown constantly, each moment becoming more and more displeased with myself. "He's seriously hurt. It's obvious from the blood that's caked on his clothes. Oh, Peeta..." My eyes began to sting, ,so I quickly tried to cover it up. I looked up at Peeta to find him staring at me.

   His eyes were asking me if I was okay. I made a rather pathetic attempt at a smile, and his eyes grew sad. I quickly shifted my gaze to his clothes, and tried to take off his shirt.

   That was the easiest part. Peeta's torso wasn't injured at all, so he helped me the best he could. The shirt came off easily, so I began to scrub that against the bottom of the shallow river. Peeta groaned softly as to prevent me from hearing, but I heard it loud and clear. I then remembered how famished and parched he must be.

   I stood up and let the shirt fall to the ground when I reached the land. I instantly headed for my bag and dug through it until I found my jar of water and some groosling. I headed back over to Peeta who was trying to keep his eyes open and shook him gently.

   "Hey, I have something for you," I handed him the water only to realize that I would have to help him; he was too shaky and weak. "Here, let me help..." I said as I held the water to his lips. He drank thirstily, but when it came to the groosling, he refused it. "You have to eat some of it. Please, eat it for me?" I asked, somewhat begging, somewhat flirting.

   Peeta just glared at the groosling. Then I had an idea.

   "Oh, come on. You can do it," I said seductively as I got a little closer to the boy. I kissed his cheek gently, I wasn't quite ready to kiss him fully yet.