- Chapter Eighteen -

3.1K 117 93
                                    

I'm escorted to the start of the aisle, where Haymitch is waiting for me, smiling. He looks amazing. A slick, black suit. Hair nearly parted and gelled back. Black dress shoes. A golden watch on his left wrist. I don't think I've ever seen him look this good. He holds out his arm for me to take. And I know exactly what he's doing.

"Will you let me be your dad today, sweetheart?" He asks. I smile and take his arm, nodding yes. There's no one else alive that I'd even consider for the roll of my father. It's too important. And Haymitch is the only one that could do the job right.

He scans my dress, taking in every last detail.

"You look nice," he whispers. And I laugh.

"You don't look half bad, yourself," I say, referring to his suit. The color does look great with his skin tone. And surprisingly, there's not a stain to be found.

"I ironed it myself," he jokes, bowing slightly.

"That explains why there's so many wrinkles," I mutter. His eyes widen with fear. He immediately looks down at his suit, checking for any flaws in his work. There are none, though. He surprisingly did an impeccable job. I'm laughing so hard at his urgency to check his outfit that he has to cover my mouth with his dirty hand to keep from disturbing the guests waiting just behind the tree line.

I get jolted back to reality when I can literally taste the dirt from his palm.

"Ugh, Haymitch! Ever heard of washing your hands?" I snarl, spitting the content on the floor. In the corner of my eye I see Madge waving her hands at Haymitch and I. And I know it's time. Both my laughter and disgust stop immediately.

Why am I so nervous? I'm already shaking, and the cool breeze blowing across my face doesn't help. Haymitch senses my fear and gives my arm a friendly squeeze.

"Any last words of advice?" I ask, my voice quivering.

"Stay alive," he says. I frown at him, but he's not finished. "I'm serious, sweetheart. Don't... die out there. Make sure you be yourself. Don't let Katniss Everdeen die... even if you're going to be a Mellark after today. Promise me that."

I don't say anything. What does he mean? How would I die? I'm only getting married... and then Haymitch starts walking. And I walk too. As best as I can in these heels, anyway. I grasp on to my bouquet made of dandelions and white roses, embracing the crowd. 

As soon as I come out from behind the trees, everyone that I've ever known stands up before me. They're all honoring me. Not as a leader. Or a rebel. Or a mockingjay. They stand up because I'm a bride. And that's all I am today. And I'm so grateful.

The amount of people looking directly at me is astonishing, and I stop momentarily to take it all in. Haymitch doesn't, though, and I'm uncomfortably dragged along. I decide to look beyond the crowd. The people. I look straight ahead. I find Peeta. And I feel like I'm walking on air. Every bit of stress leaves my shoulders. Every pain in my body relieves itself. And seeing the way that Peeta obviously relaxes, I'm positive he feels the same way.

I spend my whole trip down the aisle focusing on Peeta's bright blue eyes. The closer I get, the more I can see the love and admiration in them. Once I've locked my eyes with Peeta Mellark, I don't even glance at the audience. I can hear Effie's high pitched voice now, lecturing me to "smile for the cameras."  But I don't listen to that voice. I listen to the voice telling me not to break eye contact with Peeta.

I walk underneath the gazebo where Peeta stands before me. Haymitch has left my side. But I don't notice. All I notice is Peeta taking my hands in his. Swaying them back and fourth. And then the minister starts speaking.

Real - An Everlark FanfictionWhere stories live. Discover now