Joesph continued walking ahead, his eyes focused on the
trees ahead and his backpacks bouncing against his back. What he wanted to do?
End the Games, turn around, drop everything he had and take her in his arms
again. And then, only then, he wouldn’t care if he dropped dead then and there.
What he had to do? Stay alive, win the Games, go home, and never see Kit again.
But at least she’d be safe that way.

So he kept walking, his footsteps heavy with regret each
time he shuffled forward. He turned to look back at Kit, but didn’t dare to
find out her ex
pression and quickly, turned back around and walked just a bit faster.
He didn’t know where they were going, or what would happen when they got there,
but where ever they were going didn’t matter. He lived past the Games, then
what? There was nothing waiting for him.

So Joesph decided something. He’d do one last thing, and
then he’d let this “demon” kill him. So he’d die happy, at least. He paused
where he was, and then gently let the backpacks roll off his shoulders. He
turned around, and then walked slightly forward until he was only a few feet
away from Kit, then rested his hand on her shoulder. “I know you hate me. I
know I’m an idiot, an ass, a person who didn’t deserve you and never will.”

“But these last few moments of my life…I want to remember
them as something more than my deathbed. I want to remember them as something
I’ve wanted to do since the minute I saw you.” He used his hand he’d rested on
her shoulder earlier to pull her closer, just inches from him, then slowly
leaned forward until his lips met hers and pulled back a few second later. He
smiled softly, then pulled his hand away from her shoulder and stepped back,
grabbing the backpacks and continued walking forward; contemplating the list of
things Kit would do to him within a few seconds. Doesn’t really matter when
you’re going to be incinerated in the next few moments, now does it?