Author's Note: Right about my 255th story, I made the announcement that I was quitting Fanfiction for a while to work on my novel. I did that, but I do miss Fanfiction quite a bit. I miss the beautiful friends I have made on here throughout the years, and I am coming home to it once again. I will update my other stories, but not yet. I want to work on this project a bit. It feels like it needs to be written.

Last night, I stayed up all night to read the entire Hunger Games trilogy. I had been curious of the trilogy for some time, but never read it prior. Until last night. I was so enamored by it, that I couldn't put down my Kindle. I didn't eat. I didn't go to the restroom. I just read. Constantly. Until I finished. By the time I was reading Mockingjay I was a wreck – I was crying and shaking. I was in love. When I read the very last sentence on the very last page, I just sat there stunned. I couldn't believe after I had just read what I had, that the world was still carrying on as usual.

So I am going to try my hand at writing a Hunger Games Fanfiction.

Logistics of this story:

Takes place during the "lost time" when Peeta and Katniss reconnect and work through everything and ultimately fall in love. Bad summary, but just a background of where we are in their story.

Also, this is going to be AU – some parts of the story (where they live, etc.) will be changed for the purposes of this story. I will try not to go completely off the deep-end with this. I keep my stories fairly grounded.

Lastly, I hope you enjoy. I hope I can do this fandom justice and don't completely make a fool of myself in trying to write this story. After the first chapter, I'll see what the feedback is and if its receiving good response. Please, if you are inclined to review, go ahead and critique it. Tell me where I am failing and where I am excelling. Don't hold back.

Now then, on to the story!

REKINDLING
CHAPTER ONE

The house is nice – it really is. It is everything I could ever imagined, but it's lacking. The spacious rooms of brick and steel and crystal are lovely, but they are nothing without the sound of her laughter filling them. I wish more than anything that she could be here to share in this with me. I sit down on the bed and begin to scratch at Buttercup's ears. He purrs softly, and I try to smile at him.

"She would love this, wouldn't she?" I say to the cat. Buttercup sits up slightly, as if knowing instantly to whom I am referring – Prim.

After, well…everything – we returned to District Twelve. The Capitol wanted to rebuild its lost District, and they decided that Peeta and I should be allowed to return there. Funds were raised under the new leadership and citizens from other Districts were given special enticements to move to District Twelve – enticements of new housing and food. District Twelve was being built right around us – and, under the new laws, was in need of ambassadors of the Capitol. Each District would have two ambassadors – a male and a female – to serve on a special committee that would be called into meeting once every three months, in the Capitol. It didn't take us long to realize that Peeta and I would be those ambassadors.

He objected at first – saying that he was not mentally fit to bare that sort of responsibility. He was quickly overruled on that decision, and we were brought back to District Twelve. The Capitol had sent in workers to rebuild houses and shops. All these workers and new citizens were justly compensated.

One area was set aside especially for the house of the ambassadors. Haymitch traveled with us, along with several "workers" that would care for the gardens and the cleaning. Peeta and I hadn't said much to each other, and the train ride was filled with uncomfortable silence. I knew he was just as anxious as I was to return to our old home. He was curious, just as I, to see the changes and the improvements of our District. When the train stopped, dropping us off at the place that seemed for so long, so far away, Peeta glanced at me. It was one of the rare looks we managed to share when we weren't absolutely terrified of the other. I mustered a deep breath and lungs full of courage before turning and glancing up at him.

"We're here," I said, my voice a shadow of a whisper.

"We are," Peeta said, his voice level and matter-of-factly.

We were taken to our house right away. As we made the journey, we glanced around in awe at the new District Twelve. Buildings were built and were being built. The shops were beginning to be restored, and flowers and trees had been planted in the town's square.

"This is it," Haymitch announced as we approached the house. It was a large, red-brick thing with two stories. Flowers wrapped around the house and there were trees scattered in the lawn. It looked like a house I had seen in dreams and in picture books. It was so stunning and I couldn't believe that it was to be my new home.

The first story housed a kitchen which Peeta took to instantly. He ran his hand across the steel of a stove and a small fraction of a smile gifted his lips. There was also a living area with big couches, chairs, and a roaring fireplace; as well as a library filled with books. Upstairs we found three bedrooms and two large bathrooms with tubs the size of swimming holes and crystal chandeliers. It was all too much, but it was what the Capitol had wanted to gift us with, and so I accepted gladly.

We had lived there for a week now, and I still was not accustomed to the spaciousness of it all. Everything was so fancy, I felt out of place and worried I would break something at any moment. Buttercup had taken to the new home right away, of course, and had become quite spoiled thanks to the housekeepers.

It had been a week and Peeta and I still had little to no contact with one another. This killed me. We would be pleasant when eating meals together, but mostly kept our distance from each other. We were both scared of the other. I was scared of what I felt when I was around him, and he was scared of me on account of what had been done to him. Yes, he was better, but it wasn't the same. I doubted it ever would be.

"You could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him." Haymitch's words still echo in my head as I lean back against the numerous pillows upon my bed and scoot Buttercup to the foot of it. Haymitch had been right. All that time, Peeta had been so in love with me and I had been blinded – blinded by fear and by instinct to survive as well as blinded by my own confusion and fear of getting too attached and losing him. If I didn't get attached, maybe when he died it wouldn't be quite so painful – that had been my damning reasoning. Now, Peeta barely remembered the time we spent together, and what he did remember was choppy and inconsistent.

Only now, now that things were so badly broken between us, did I finally realize how much I missed Peeta. I missed the way his arms felt around me, and the way his blue eyes would light up when he would smile at me. I missed his laugh and the way he would roll his eyes or shake his head at me at times. I missed the feeling of his hand in mine.

It was when I realized that me might be dead, that I realized how badly I loved him. It wasn't a traditional love, of course, but these weren't traditional times. All I know was that without Peeta, my existence would be nothing. I needed him. I needed him more than a survival partner though as Gale had said once. I needed him in my life in general. If I went another day without seeing him at least once, I would break. Just his very presence gives me strength and makes me feel that maybe – just maybe – I will be okay.

I always thought soulmates were silly things in books or stories. But that all changed when I realized that my very soul was nothing without his. And now we didn't even speak but a few words to each other. Now, everything was broken.

He helped the cooks in the kitchen, and I would go out and help the builders and hunt. I hunted quite a bit now in order to help feed everyone. The Capitol gave us more and better food rations, but I still wanted everyone to be gifted with fresh meat after the end of a long day's work. I would hunt, and Peeta would cook. We would eat together, and sit by the fire and read together. But rarely did we talk.

When we did, it was pleasantries – the usual, "Good morning" and "Good night." Sometimes when we would read together, on good days, we'd dare to peer over the bindings of our books and cast shy smiles at each other. On the bad days, Peeta would stay in his room or in the living room with Haymitch talking to him and trying to pull him back into reality.

I wasn't allowed to see him when he would "slip." Haymitch was starting to stay sober and would be on the look-out. He knew the signs – the glazing of the eyes or the shaking hands – and would place a hand on Peeta's shoulder and lead him into one of the rooms where they could be concealed from me. Sometimes I would listen in to their conversations – Haymitch speaking in hushed, calm tones or sometimes harsh frustrated tones. The bad days had happened four out of the seven days we had been here. I wasn't sure how to judge that.

It's night now, and the curtains are pulled tight. There is a fire roaring in the fireplace across from my too-big bed. My only company at night is Buttercup, and he doesn't appreciate me waking up thrashing and in a cold sweat. When I do, he'll scratch or kick at me. I begin to miss the feel of Peeta's arms around me more and more.

At night, I do not sleep until I have lain awake past the point of exhaustion and eventually collapse against my pillow only to be awakened by the horrid nightmares and the frustrated mewing and scratching of Buttercup.

Tonight is different though. Tonight, I fall asleep eventually just as every other night, but this nightmare is worse. This time, I wake up screaming. When I awake, my throat is so sore and I am shaking and cold. I do not remember the dream at all, but feel as though I am gasping for air. I instantly shut up when I realize the commotion I must be making, but it is too late. There is a knock at the door. Mortification consumes me, and I think maybe if I ignore it, it'll go away.

But knock is persistent, and finally opens a crack. I expect it to be one of the housemaids, but instead I see Peeta standing in the doorway.

"Katniss?" His voice is gentle, he's testing the waters here and he knows it. Also, he has never entered my room before – this whole thing is uncharted territory for him.

"Peeta?" I still can't believe it's him, and I start to question rather or not I am still dreaming, "I-I am sorry I woke you," I stammer, my cheeks flaming red, "Really."

"Was it another nightmare?" He asks, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind him. I nod, confiding yes. Peeta sighs and says, "I hear you sometimes. But I never know if you want me to come."

I don't know what to say to that, but somehow the words, "Will you stay with me tonight," form.

"What if I slip?" He asks, coming closer to the bed and I can see the brokenness in those blue eyes, "What if I hurt you?"

"Oh please, Peeta," I work up the strength to make my voice light as I roll my eyes, "I can totally take you."

His brow furrows again as his brain registers that this is banter, "I don't know. You're pretty taken with me, Katniss. I don't know how much damage you'd be able to inflict upon me."

"Plenty if you don't knock off," I roll my eyes, thankful for this moment of lightheartedness, "So watch it."

"You love it," Peeta says, lifting the blankets and crawling into bed beside me, "You wouldn't be blushing if you didn't."

"Peeta," I threatened.

I could see his smile in the soft light from the embers of the fire. It's a small smile, but it's a smile nonetheless. Suddenly, it fades and he says –

"Katniss, in all seriousness, what if I hurt you tonight? Aren't you scared of me?"

"The benefit outweighs the risk," I explain, "I want you here."

He nods and I shove a few pillows for him. He adjusts them, punches them softly, and lays his head down next to mine. Our temples are touching and this is the closest I have been to him in a long time. For the first time, in a long time, I feel at peace. I am lying next to a boy who could kill me in my sleep if he happened to have another slip, and yet I feel at peace.

"Katniss, I'll stay here tonight, but I am just warning you – if you start snoring I will be forced to kick you."

"I do not snore!" I object and he lets a small snort escape. It's the closest I've come to hearing his laugh.

"How'd you know?" He wraps his arms around me in the way he had done so many times and I can't help but thinking how grateful I am for this rare moment. I pray there will be more of these moments in the future.

I roll my eyes and lean into his touch. I feel his lips press against my temple in a soft kiss.

"Good night, sweetheart," he says.

"Good night, Peeta," I say. And for the first time in a long time, I find myself sleeping through the night.