I carefully place the book down on the mahogany table as I slowly stand up. However, me, being the clumsy person I really am, I step onto something that digs into my foot, I bite my lips, it really hurt! I stagger backwards and I know I will fall flat on my back, however I am met by familiar arms, catching me. I didn't even know he was there. I giggle at him and he tells me,
"You should really take care" and he helps me regain my balance. When I am back on my feet, I fall into his arms, I always rely on him, a lot in fact. No one except me and him knows this but I'm a bit clumsy, very clumsy. He looks after me though, and I'm ever so grateful for that.
I walk down the corridor, running my hand against the whitewashed walls and I look at all the paintings hanging there. Yes, the two artistic men did them, a fashion designer who has the natural talent of making his thoughts into reality on paper, and now the baker's son, the boy with the bread, also an amazing artist has been teaching him how to draw and paint on canvas. Apparently it's very different. I might try someday, with help from the boys of course!
As I reach the kitchen I see that he made his way there while I was reorganising the bookshelf, he smiles at me and I give him a small smile back. He looks so tired, worn out, I understand it- he had a thought that kept him up half the night, it often happens with him.
Sometimes if I ask him he tells me but sometimes he'd rather not. Last night he didn't want to tell me. I think he was almost crying, remembering all the terrible things that happened to him during the last two years of the Hunger Games. He's been through a lot. Not getting an anwser from him I lay my head on his chest and fall asleep...
"Want something to drink?" he asks me. I nod,
"Juice please" He smiles as he pours me a glass of orange juice. Then he pours himself a glass and we drink in silence. We're like that sometimes: even though we are in silence, we enjoy each other's company. I guess it's because we both hate being on our own. He rushes out of the room,
"I'll be back in a minute," he tells me and when he comes back, he comes back with an impressive bouquet, with yellow, pink and purple flowers, and the most splendid red roses.
"For you" he says as he gives them to me. I thank him, then pull him into a hug and I kiss him on the lips. He then says the one thing he says a lot to me but I'm never tired of hearing,
"I love you Effie"
So I reply,
"I love you Cinna."
I hope you liked it ;) I feel I need something else before writing the next "party" chapter later today. I couldn't sleep so I decided to write this little one-shot