❝Some of them want to use you. Some of them want to get used by you. Some of them want to abuse you. Some of them want to be abused.❞
-Sweet Dreams By: Eurythmics
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Two lost children fall in love through their childhood, during the ages of The Hung...
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The rain droplets splashed against the gravestone. Her tears blended in with the rain; they were all the same, salty tears that clustered with water. They all meant one thing: pain. Her shaky, delicate fingers traced against the engraving. Her blonde hair sticked against her face, wet from the mix of rain and tears. Her body shook, as her hands gripped onto the grave, keeping herself up. Her cries filled the graveyard, an yarning sense of sadness drifting through the air.
It had been 5 years since Nova's mother had been murdered-right in front of her eyes. Nova could still see the pain filling her mother's eyes-she could still hear the gunfires of the shotguns ricochet, echoing through her ears.
The girl clenched her eyes shut, as countless tears flowed down her pained, plain face. She wrapped her arms around her trembling body. Something soft was laid against her-a blanket. She looked up, seeing Peeta looking down at her with sympathy.
"What are you doing here, Peeta?" Nova whimpered through her tears.
Peeta knelt down beside her. "Trying to be here for you."
Nova took one look at Peeta before she sobbed. She cried into his chest, her hands beating against the floor. "I miss her so damn much!"
Peeta cradled her in his arms, stroking her hair. "Sh, baby, it's okay."
Nova continued to cry, her body shaking uncontrollably. "It hurts so bad," her tears were nonstop.
"I know, but the pain will stop," Peeta tried to console her.
He was trying everything he could, but she was broken. It had only been 5 years, and Nova was still continuing to grieve. Nova felt lost-misguided without her mother there for her. Her mother was her beck and call. She was always there when her daughter needed her the most. And at times like this, she needed mother-daughter bonding.
Her cries soon stopped, as her breathing slowed. Her eyes finally closed, as she was sound sleep. Peeta sighed, as he stroked her cheeks, before he carried her back to her house. Nova's father silently thanked the boy, as Peeta placed her upon her bed, laying her covers on her. He watched her chest raising up and down. Her wet hair lay across her pillow, her body slightly cold, but warming up. Peeta clung onto her soft hand, as he sat next to her bed, laying his head against the sheets.
Peeta felt like a knife struck his heart a million times; it was the equivalent to Nova feeling sad. Only time can mend a grieving heart.
