Here is my attempted h/k fic. I write this because this couple interests me. So read and tell me what you think. :)


I own nothing from hunger games.

What if?


I was alone. Gale, my mom, and Peeta are in the Capital. Prim, my little sister, is dead. I live in a large house with a muddy yellow cat named Buttercup. The only ones around now are Greasy Sae, Peeta's father, Hamitch, and a few others. Even though they're there, I rarely see even them.

Every night I dream of the games and the ones who fought for their lives.

'Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor.'

Effie's voice echoed and was followed by Caesar's.

'Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!'

Voices of many ran through my head as images matched with words. The last image woke me easily. My eyes flew open and I was breathing heavily. I pushed the matted hair from my face as I sat up.


I whispered in the dark. Tears slid down face as I remembered the day, the explosion, and the pain. I stumbled out of bed and walked to the front door. There was only one person who had what I wanted. The item I needed to forget awhile.


For the first time in a long time I wasn't passed out on the floor. I sat at the table in the kitchen holding a bottle of white wine, untouched. Katniss' scream had startled me and because we were about the only ones here, I knew it was her.

A knock snapped me out of whatever daze I was in. Standing at the door was the girl who lost her flames. Katniss' black hair was plastered to her face from sweat, no doubt, and her braid needed to be redone. Her gray eyes were red from recent tears. I didn't know why she was here so...

"What can I do for you sweetheart?"

I asked lazily. She stood there for a second as if she herself didn't know why. Then she looked me in the eyes.

"I need a drink."

Her voice was tired. I stood back to let her in.


It didn't surprise me when Hamitch let me in, it did surprise me when he poured me some wine in a small glass. I drank it all in one gulp and coughed as it burned my throat.

"So what's wrong sweetheart?"

I really didn't like it when he called me that, and he knows it. I don't answer at first, just sit there spinning the empty glass in my hand. I decided I wanted the silence to end after a time.

"I dreamed of the games. The quell. The war."

I spaced out the events. Staring at the table to avoid Hamitch's gaze.

"I saw their faces. Cinna, Rue, the tributes, Prim."

I choked as I finished my sentence. I placed my head in my hands. For a second, I forgot Hamitch was there.

"I figured as much. Heard you screamin'."

He said. I lifted my head to see he was now leaning against the kitchen counter with the wine bottle in hand. The typical Hamitch pose.

"You and I are the only ones here, basically. We could hear a deer running in your forest if we're quiet long enough."

He explained. I stood not knowing what to do. So I just asked the first question that came to mind.

"Could I stay here? I just don't want to go back and-"

"You think staying here will help those dreams fade a little sweetheart?"

Hamitch cut me off. I looked at him. His seem-gray eyes heavy with lack of sleep. I started to say something, but stopped myself.

'He's right. Staying here won't help.'

I thought.

'But it's worth a try.'

"I don't know."

I told the truth and gave a pleading look. He took a breath.

"Alright, but tonight only."

He held up a finger as he walked to the living room. He showed me the couch I would sleep on, tattered and torn. I found a sheet to put over it and Hamitch brought me a green and white quilt.

"Thank you Hamitch."

I gave a weak smile. He returned it with a natural, though rare, Hamitch smirk.

There's chapter 1. Hope you guys like it.