I turn around, expecting no one to be there. But here he is, standing right in front of me. He looks the same as I left him, and his grey eyes look sad. "Gale? What are you doing here?" My brows furrow in confusion, my mind searching for any logical explanation. But logic has long since left me. Oneshot. T for Hunger Games.

His tanned skin looked especially dark against mine; the difference in shade almost funny. But as I look down at my pale fingers entwined with his, it only adds to my growing certainty that this is right.