Promises of a Sacrificial Lamb |Destiel x The Hunger Games|

-27-

It doesn't sound like much is happening this morning.  The air is still.  The birds and insects chirp without a care in the world.  Cas looks exhausted from staying up for most of the night, so I tell him he should get some rest.  To my surprise, he doesn't object, just presses a gentle kiss to my lips before making himself comfortable against the rocks.  I find myself still smiling long after he falls asleep.

That's how we spend the majority of the day.  Sleeping in one or two hour shifts, sipping on our water, munching on small handfuls of cashews or dried fruit.  By late afternoon, both of us are well rested, and the high of discovering my fixed hand is starting to wear off.  But that definitely doesn't affect how grateful I am that it even got fixed in the first place.  I don't think that will ever change.

As afternoon slowly bleeds into early evening, the somber hues of twilight casting shadows on the ground and making rays of the setting sun pierce through the curtain of vines concealing our hollow, I watch as Cas tidies up the strewn objects we left lying around.  He tosses the empty syringe, the bloody and used rolls of gauze, and the green bottle of antiseptics into the trunk that I brought the antivenom back in and closes it up.  He gathers the switchblade, the knife, and the sword and tucks them in the corner of the hollow.  He uncaps one of the bottles of painkillers, pops a couple into his mouth before dumping out a few more and giving them to me. I'm still sore, but it's not nearly as bad as yesterday.  I thank him, then wash the purple capsules down with a sip of water.

And as I watch him neaten the bottles of pills, his face rather reposeful and his bright blue eyes glimmering in the rays of light shining through the vines, a thought strikes me.  I'm not sure why it took so long to fight its way to the forefront of my mind, but as it does, I can't stop a grin from tugging on my lips.

"Hey, so I was thinking,"  I begin.  Cas looks up at the sound of my voice and meets my gaze with a curious glint in his own.  "You know, I guess Cresh was right."

Even the simple act of saying his name sickens me to my core, but I try to ignore it.  Cas, on the other hand, doesn't.  A worried frown passes over his face at my words, at the mention of the boy who almost killed me.  "What do you mean?"  he asks.

I get right to the point before either of us has a chance to let any sort of negative emotion take over again.  With a growing grin, I gesture between him and me, my heart fluttering inside my chest.  "Boyfriends?"

The concern in Cas' expression vanishes in an instant, leaving a sheepish smile in its wake.  His cheeks redden.  "Oh, so we're making it official, then?"  he says with a mirthful chuckle, his voice softer than ever.

I can't help but chuckle, too.  "This probably isn't the most ideal time, but..."  I reach out and intertwine our fingers, gently swinging his hand from side to side as blissful exuberance bubbles up inside of me.  "Be mine, Castiel?"

The colors on his cheeks deepen in hue.  His bashful smile stretching from ear to ear, he drops his gaze to the ground for a fleeting moment before glancing back up to meet mine.  "I'd love to,"  he says.

My stomach does somersaults when Cas squeezes my hand and starts to lean toward me.  His fingertips grab my chin, tilt my head up.  His smiling lips are just grazing my own when we hear the menacing growling outside our hollow.

He jumps, eyes suddenly wide with terror as he scrambles back against the tree trunk.  My heart stops, blood chills to ice, as he presses his rigid body into my side, as the growling grows even louder.  It sounds like an animal, without a doubt.  I've just never heard anything like it before, and the uncertainty is petrifying.

I think it's safe to say my lungs quit working altogether when a massive silhouette stalks in front of the curtain of vines, outlined by the rays of setting sunlight.