likedtheodds | (no subject)

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katniss

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There are times when he drinks to have fun, there are times when he drinks because he really enjoys the taste of it, and there are times when he drinks simply because he's bored and it actually starts to get a bit fun if you start catapulting your way around all the pubs on the island. Sometimes it's even necessary when they stop serving you liquor. Today's a latter day and he's just settling in at the Hub, shaking back his hair as he lets out a pleased sound at the mead before him.

The sun's still out in the sky, day as clear as ever, but he's got a pint and he's never met one of those he didn't like, even if they have brought him a good bit of trouble.

Speaking of trouble...

While the pint may not have brought him that, he does cast a gaze over his shoulder when he glimpses familiarity out of the corner of his eye. He smirks and beckons Katniss closer, patting the stool beside him. "Can I interest you in a drink?"

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She comes in from time to time, just to drop off game - dead animals slung over her back like it's nothing. To Katniss, it isn't. She just wants something to do in order to feel some semblance of normalcy. Hunting feels more like home, even if these forests are nothing like the ones just outside of District 12.

It feels almost like living again. Not quite, but it's a thin imitation of it, at least. Katniss isn't quite satisfied, but then again, she won't ever really be. So it's no loss.

The question gets her to lift her head, eyes sweeping over Gwaine. Here. Drinking. She pulls a face.

"Why would I want that?"

"Because it tastes good, it feels good, and it makes the world so much brighter," Gwaine says as he extols the virtue of drink with a cheerful and pleasant countenance on his face. "And it means you get to talk to me."

"Again, I have to ask, why would I want that?" it's nothing personal, Gwaine. It's just that you look like Gale - Gale, Gale, Gale. Her best friend and yet the person who appears in her nightmares most these days. Gale, who had made it clear how he felt and yet Katniss couldn't bring herself to feel anything back. She just couldn't.

Though, he talks too much. Gale's silent - Gwaine likes to hear the sound of his own voice, which is exactly what reminds her that he's not because they sound completely different.

"Little Kit," Gwaine chastises with a very serious look on his face before he takes a sip from his flagon and it dissipates into something a little less stern. "You're going to hurt my feelings one day, you know. It's a very good thing I never take it personally. Now. Please, sit."

Being told what to do never sat well with Katniss, who was used to being independent above all else. She's been the acting head of the family since the age of 12, and giving up that role when she became the Mockingjay had been difficult for her indeed. She does sit, though. Grudgingly kicking back a chair, arms crossed against her chest; glare timed to say what do you want?

She's busy. He's wasting her valuable time. Not that she has anything better to do, no matter how Katniss may kid herself. No one on this island does.

Gwaine slides the glass over to her slowly, never once taking his eyes off of her. He may be a constant drunkard, but he has always retained sense. "Have you ever done something in your life that you only did for enjoyment's sake?" he has to wonder.

"Of course I have," she's quick to answer, but if Katniss is going to be honest, there had been very little enjoyment in her life, even before the Games. Unlike the people of the Capitol, who needed to be entertained, all the citizens of the Districts simply wanted to survive. But there had been good times. A short list that she runs through in her mind when everything feels like too much.

"I've...danced," it's not much, but it's something. District 12 used to pride itself for the skill its citizens had in dancing. And Katniss pretty much just wants to prove him wrong at this junction.

She stares at the glass, but doesn't touch it.

"You've...danced." He's mimicking her tone, a little mocking, but it's only because he's got a little drink in his system and he can't help it. "When was the last time you danced and threw away all your cares to the wind? This is an offer, in case I need to spell it out for you."

She pulls a face at his mocking tone: it's very much like something Haymitch would pull, and that alone is both a comfort and...something that makes her supremely uncomfortable at the same time. Katniss doesn't touch her drink - she's learned the hard way that it never leads to anything good.

"You're so drunk I doubt you'll be able to stand," Katniss retorts - but in truth, the fact that he looks like Gale brings back another time in which they'd danced, even if it didn't mean anything. Even if it was somewhat fun. Dancing is very much a vestige of happier times, and Katniss thinks it should stay that way.

"I've learned how to hold my drink, little Kit," Gwaine says dismissively, almost disappointed that she thinks so little of him. After all, he thinks, he's been doing this since he first began to roam the wilds and enter taverns. "Don't be so cruel to me as to say I couldn't dance with a drink or two in my blood."

"And I'm sure there are many, many girls who would want to dance with you," she replies, not losing any of her signature stiffness. From an objective point of view, Katniss knew he was handsome - after all, he looked like Gale, who'd had girls chasing after him even from a young age. But this is also a girl who frequently spent time in the company of Finnick Odair. She was hardly fazed.

"You might want to try them instead of me. You'll have an easier time of it."

Gwaine gives a hapless shrug that says he doesn't really pay much attention to all the girls who want to dance with him. "I don't like things that are too easy. I do appreciate the challenge," he murmurs, voice soft and filled with an edge of a growl. "And who said all beauty has to lie on the outside, hm?"

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