Title: come a little closer

Summary: No such thing as a compassionate world. AU!GalePrim

AU: Prim and Gale switch ages and personalities.

Warning: I beat the hell of metaphors.

Notes: I've been missing FanFiction. Some of my new friends love to read it and I've spent a couple of nights actually reading FanFiction out loud and it's hilarious. But anyway, I decided I wanted to come back for a while and bring something to you guys. It seems like all of my favorite writers (and friends) have left, so here's to you guys. Miss you all. This most certainly is not my best work, but hopefully, y'all can forgive me until I get back into my flow. Also this is pretty short but whatever.

Also, to anyone who was touched by Hurricane Sandy, I hope you're all well. New York was hit pretty hard and hopefully, you all have your electric back and you're safe and sound.

Something about the way Gale looks at her makes Prim sick.

He adores her. He worships her, but she is not a god. There are no more gods. There are no myths or fairytales.

There is only a Capitol and a president who rules over them. There is only Hunger Games, in which children rip children limb by limb, and there are no gods to stop this, for there is no such thing as a compassionate world.

There is only blood and murder, and yet, this boy reveres her and she does not stop it. (For if there was a crueler person than Prim Everdeen, the world would stop.)


He comes by their house a lot of the time with the excuse to play with little Katniss, but he spends more time staring at Prim's blond hair and curvy body. Prim attempts to pretend she does not like it (Gale's naïve eyes admiring her body, in his sweet, innocent way) but she does. She loves how he will flush and turn away if she meets his gaze. There is something so endearing about it, that even though Prim would be enraged if it was anybody else, she continuously lets him get away with it.

But then she starts to have the dreams. Dreams of him touching her cautiously, his sweet gaze filled with excitement that he finally gets to see more. It disgusts her that her mind has associated him with such adult things. He is six years younger, but she cannot stop her unconscious mind from lingering on the thought of him under her covers, doing things that make her whole body ache with pleasure.

One night, she awakens, panting, from a particularly vivid dream and cannot help but let her fingers drift lower. As she cries out into her pillow, she thinks, the one thing the Capitol has done right was to burn the gods away.

Prim does not doubt that her thoughts would land her in Hell's eternal fire.


Katniss tugs at Prim's sleeve one day, after Gale has left, "Gale thinks you hate him, but I told him you didn't."

Prim has been wearing higher shirts as of late, covering her body. To make sure she avoids his probing gaze, she leaves the room whenever he is present. Alas, her efforts have been failing, because still, in the middle of the night, she will find herself panting, feeling as if she is burning from the inside out. She believes that this is her punishment, for her to repent her disgusting thoughts.

(She would take a thousand rocks from the mines and place them upon her back to rid the feeling of being permanently unclean.)

She smiles at Katniss, her pretty little sister with the dark hair and the gray eyes she has always secretly wanted, and tells her that she could never hate Gale. "How could I hate your best friend, Kat?"

(If only she could hate him. Perhaps things would be easier if she did.)

Katniss looks at Prim very seriously, and Prim suddenly realizes how fast her little sister has grown up. No longer is Katniss' face round and soft, instead her skin is pulled a little tighter across her face. Her body is harder too, from all those days of running after Gale. Katniss is almost as tall as Prim; only an inch more and Katniss will be taller.

"I think I like Gale," Katniss says, biting her lip, "I don't like how it feels though. My heart gets all soft when he grabs my hand and I don't like it."

Prim lets her fingernails press into her palm, making marks that never really heal as she tells her sister that Gale would be lucky to have Katniss. And then, if all the fire that awaits Prim wasn't enough, Katniss speaks in her smallest voice, a handful of words that will surely stick with Prim forever.

"But Prim, he's never looking at me. He's always looking at you."

Prim runs outside and throws up.

(She does not meet Katniss' eyes when she returns in fear that Katniss will see Prim for the monster that she is.)


Prim scarcely remembers how cruel the world is until Reaping Day rears its ugly head. She does Katniss' hair in the way Katniss likes, the swinging braid that trails down her back, and hands her a pretty blue dress. She, herself, wears something simple, a blouse and skirt. In such a rush, she leaves the end of her shirt hanging out. Prim's mother breaks out of her daze and smiles at Prim.

"You haven't done that since you were Katniss' age," she says, her smile creeping up her cheeks.

(As soon as the smile spreads, it falls and shatters.)

She should expect it, but when Effie Trinket, the ghastly woman with too much makeup and liberally applied jasmine perfume, calls out her sister's name (Katniss, her baby sister, only twelve years old and doomed to a grave), she screams. Her mother, her tiny mother with the same blond hair and blue eyes, does not say a word. Prim tries to grip Katniss to her body, trying to hold her close so she can never leave, but the Peacemakers take Katniss to a place that Prim cannot save her from, and Prim's vision goes black.

When she awakens, her mother is glaring at her. Prim has never seen her mother show this much emotion in her entire life, not since her father died.

"Look," growls her mother, "Katniss is scared. She won't say it, but she's just a little girl and you need to be there for her, okay? Now, you need to help her. Go talk to her. Promise her she'll make it out alive. She needs you, Prim."

"Momma," Prim whispers, "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

She blacks out again and when she comes to, Katniss is gone.


People look at her with fascination when she walks in the streets. Posters of her sister and another boy her age cover the windows of stores. Flowers are placed on her porch every morning, along with packages of strawberries. There are whispers of rebellion in the air.

This is how District 12 mourns her sister before she is even dead.


She realizes that she has barely had a real conversation with Gale in her entire. This boy, that has been the focus of so many of her darkest dreams, has uttered less than ten words to her. And then, one Sunday, when everyone is watching the Hunger Games, (starring her baby sister) he comes.

Prim can't help but observe how he looks much older than twelve, these days. His jaw is square and he's filling out, underneath his thin, ragged shirt. His hair is in desperate need of a cut, and without thinking, Prim asks him if he would like her to cut it.

(She doesn't notice that he doesn't bother mentioning Katniss.)

He nods and she tells him to sit on a chair. Her fingers shake as she leans in to cut his soft brown hair, and she feels her heartbeat thumping wildly against her ribs, and she wonders if he can hear it. As she gets close to him, she can hear his breath, tightly controlled. His eyes are harder than before, and he trains them to look above her head.

"You don't have to be scared of me," she says softly. Her words are meant to be teasing, but when they leave her mouth, they seem to hold weight. Double meanings fill the space between them.

His eyes abruptly shoot to her face, and with the same swiftness, she drops the scissors on the table and feels her knees go weak. He practically drinks her in with his eyes, and she is melting, burning more than ever before.

"You're beautiful," he mumbles, sounding as if he didn't even want to say the words.

Before she can comprehend it, they are kissing, his lips tenderly touching hers. She feels his hands barely touching her skin and yet, she can imagine him leaving scorch marks. She (the temptress, the hussy, the abomination) presses into him, crushing her lips against his.

He pulls away from her, and even though she can feel the blush across her cheeks, she can see how composed he is. And then, ever so slightly, she sees his lips tugging into a smirk. He stands up and takes her up with him, and she almost does not register just how tall he's become with puberty, for she must reach up to touch his lips with her fingers. Her whole body longs for him, and he can sense it, for he crashes his lips on hers. She wonders where he's learned to kiss, if it was the Seam girls that always had their eye on him. All of her thoughts, however, are wiped away when he moves his hands down the small of her back and presses her against the wall.

"Oh God," she mumbles, breath caught on the buttons on his shirt.

"There are no gods here," he says into her neck.

She does not voice her thoughts, but knows that he has become a man, and although she feels the loss of her innocent Gale, she cannot help but thank him for growing up.


Katniss holds on to another young girl named Rue, from District 11. Together, they sing songs and hide in trees. Prim cannot help but feel worried for them. The Capitol does not accept such childlike behavior. She cries out when the children are caught in a wildfire and Katniss and an injured Rue are left.

Gale holds her hand underneath the pillow and squeezes tight when Rue tells Katniss to kill her. There is nothing but a rock on hand, and Katniss shakily holds it in her hand. Bile rises in Prim's throat, and Katniss mutters something low underneath her breath, gods, please forgive me. Katniss closes her eyes and crashes the rock upon Rue's head. It is a slow death, and Katniss cries so loudly that Prim feels that she is in the same room as her. Katniss places white flowers around Rue's body, but Rue's blood stains the petals.

Katniss is declared victor. Prim knows from Katniss' words, the whispers of rebellion will come true.

But as she turns to Gale and his wide, sorrow filled eyes, she believes that perhaps the nature of the fire that she contains has been mistaken. Gale turns to her as well, and lets a rare smile show.

As Prim smiles at the pillow hiding their intertwined hands, she thinks that perhaps, her own fire could be used for something good.