eight and a half - insomnia

- - - ➳

"so, any last words of advice?"

it is the night before the games, after the interviews, and matthias, katniss, peeta, effie, haymitch, and i are seated on the plush sofa in the sitting room. after this, we won't see our mentors and effie again unless we make it out of the arena alive.

correction: if one of us makes it out of the arena alive.

"only take the things on the outside of the bloodbath," katniss replies when haymitch opens his mouth to speak. she gives him a glare, like she knows what he was going to say. "be aware of everything around you, though. you don't want to get away from there without anything, but you also don't want a knife in your back."

peeta nods. "make some allies. avoid the careers."

"that's ironic," katniss mutters under her breath. i vaguely remember peeta teaming up with the careers for a short while last year and wonder why he, of all people, is advising us to stay away from them.

"find a source of water as quick as you can," haymitch adds.

"and after that?" i ask.

haymitch only smirks. "stay alive."

instead of going to my room like i should, i wander around our floor, knowing i'll be unable to sleep even if i try. this is unfortunate because who knows when i'll sleep next? i need as much rest as i can before the arena.

so i head to my room and pull on a thick nightgown the color of the sky during a storm. i climb into bed and lay there with my eyes closed for what seems like hours. there is no clock in my room, so i have no idea what time it is.

i sigh, turning my head to look out the window. in the capitol, neon lights are flashing and blinking restlessly, and i'm sure music is blaring, too. however, the thick glass prevents any of the sound from entering my room. i am almost sad. a little background noise would be so much better than the ringing silence that buzzes around my ears.

the capitol residents are having a party in celebration of the games. how fun. a party celebrating twenty-three inevitable deaths.

i get up and walk to the window, pressing my hand against the cool glass. i suddenly remember the remote that controls the zoom and reach for it, enlarging the city until i can see a party going on down one of the streets. the residents are dressed in their brightest clothes and makeup, drinking and eating as much as their stomachs can hold. they are chattering lively and excitedly, some even laughing.

i turn away and zoom out, disgusted. how can they be celebrating when we're going to die? the capitol really is sick.

i pace around for a while until even that gets boring. i sigh, sitting down on my bed. i stare at my bare feet and think about the games.

and that's when it really sinks in deep. i'm going to be in the hunger games. me. thalia forkshire. i won't be watching them on television in the comfort of my home anymore. i will be physically in the arena, and i have to face whatever the gamemakers throw at me.

i may never see my family again. those moments in the justice building could be the last we had together. what were my last words to my parents? to roy? i can't remember. i just hope they were good.

what if asher, carly, and matthias don't want to be allies? what if i'm alone for the entire games?

i could be dead tomorrow. i could be next in three days. i could be dead.

i think that is what terrifies me the most. not the concept of death – i know it is inevitable – but the idea of being slaughtered in an arena full of kids for the government's entertainment. the idea of just being another face that panem will forget by the time the next games roll around.

the room has become too stuffy. i have been overthinking too much. my hair is starting to stick to the back of my neck with sweat, hands clammy. i need to get out.

remembering katniss's advice on the mouthpiece, i use it to order a glass of iced water. it arrives barely two seconds later and i grasp onto it, soaking in its coldness.

opening my door, i sip the water as i softly walk to the sitting room. by the time i am standing in the doorway, i am already finished with the beverage and am taking the last sip.

"fancy seeing you here."

i nearly drop the glass in surprise and choke on the water, resulting in a coughing fit. i cough and cough until i feel like my lungs will collapse and take deep breaths once i compose myself.

matthias is sitting on the sofa, an amused yet worried look on his face. he has a horrible case of bedhead, his hair going in all directions in a disheveled mess. his eyes are drooping, but i can tell that he isn't falling asleep anytime soon.

"you scared me!" i hiss, narrowing my eyes at him and walking to the couch, sitting on the curved section so i am facing him. i set the glass on the coffee table and fold my legs underneath me, getting comfortable. my lips are still turned in a frown as i regard him with frustration.

"i can see that," matthias laughs softly, earning him another glare. he stops once he sees that i'm not pleased. his face grows more somber, ice-blue eyes softening. "can't sleep either?"

i shake my head. "my mind is in overdrive. i can't get the games out of my head."

matthias nods in understanding. "i see what you mean. every time i close my eyes, i picture the previous games i've seen on television. they won't go away. death. maiming. it's so gruesome."

there's a pause in the conversation in which we both stay silent, trying to see through each other's eyes. how do i look to him? tired and stressed? worried and helpless? i do not want to know.

after a little while, matthias speaks again. "peeta talked to me for a little while yesterday. about the games. he wasn't allowed to reveal too much, but he said that the one thing that kept him going was–"

"–katniss?" i ask, my eyebrows raised. it seems like the most logical answer. 

he shakes his head. "no. well, yes. sort of. but there was something else."

there's a lull as he waits to see if i want to say anything. when i nod for him to go on, he continues.

"he said he didn't want to die as anything but himself. like, if he died, he'd want to still be him."

i pinch my eyebrows together in confusion. "what?"

matthias racks his brain, thinking of an explanation. "it's like– you've seen how people can change in the games. they become monsters thirsty for blood and death. he didn't want that to happen to him. peeta wanted to die as peeta, not some arena animal. make sense now?"

"yeah." i see where peeta's coming from. the last thing i want is to become a blood-thirsty tribute who will do anything to kill. that's not me. i don't want that to become me. that's not how i want my family – or anyone, really – to remember me. i want them to remember me as myself.

"i don't know if this is allowed, but do you want to be allies?"

for a second i think i was the one who said that, and am very astonished to find out it was matthias. my eyes widen.

"you want to be allies with me?" i ask, making sure i heard correctly.

matthias scratches the back of his neck nervously, avoiding my gaze.  it's strange to see him suddenly shy. "yeah, but you don't have to. i mean, it's perfectly fine if you don't want to..."

i shake my head, smiling a bit. "i would love to be your ally."

matthias's lips slowly stretch into a wide grin. i can tell he is relieved– by accepting, i saved him from a lot of embarrassment.

we talk for a while longer until our eyelids are closing without our permission and our heads are dropping back against the cushions. soon i am asleep, my dreams nightmare-free knowing that i have someone right by me to protect me.

gif is thalia making a face at matthias' dorkiness

-----

this is v short and basically just a filler but yay! an update!

i'm matthalia af. anyone else? we should start a cult. #matthaliaforlife

they are sososo cute

dedicated to -heroism- bc her comments were so sweet and also her flash fanfic is on point

ok bye

xoxo,

kristyn