-This is my first Hunger Game fanfic. I do not own HG; all credits go to Suzanne Collins. -

Katniss's POV:

I walked into the house and rushed up stairs. The sickening smell stains my clothes as I entered my old bedroom. I through all the roses away, threaten to burn them and go scrub the abhorrent smell off my skin. He is back. He is back and he did not push me away. All of the past hour events cram my head with an ache that will not go away. I seem motionless. I end up eating some of what Greasy Sae made for breakfast earlier, and fall asleep on the couch once again. My depression takes over my dreams and I am yet again reminded. But someone calls my name, it sounds familiar but I can not place who the speaker is. It reminds me of warmth and hostility. I know it well, but while in my daze I can not form a name to which it owns. I feel helpless and cold.

I feel an arm on my shoulder, slightly rubbing trying to wake me up. My eye lids flutter open as I am greeted by a slightly chiseled face.

''Katniss'', Peeta says. ''Katniss, please get up. You need to eat something.''

I think I mumble an incoherent yes and walk lazily over to the counter in the kitchen and sit down on a stool. Peeta makes my plate, which makes me feel worse. How am I to appear strong when I can't provide for myself. I wonder how he is doing. The doctor allowed him back, but was that more for my benefit. I think I will ask him later, or maybe it will just come up. He sits beside me and we eat in silence. I feel vulnerable and I hate it.

I feel him staring at me, I try to ignore it but it doesn't.

''What is it Peeta?'', I snap.

He looks hurt, but he should know this by now. I hurt people, people hurt me. Why does he still care?

''I suppose I am taking everything in Katniss'', he says. What is that supposed to mean. But I of course know. I am different, maybe he will finally get over me. I stare up at him again; he looks at me with longing. Maybe I was wrong. I get up and clean my plate. I walk back by the fire and stoke it. I look back at him, evidently he watch me do all of this. Pain has replaced the soft striking blue I know so well. He will never truly heal, I suppose. When he cleans up he walks over to me, and we stare at each other.

''Lets not pretend'', he says. ''I want to help you; I want us to help us. Katniss, I know how it is. But Haymitch and I are the only family you have left. We are the only ones who can help directly.''

''What about yourself Peeta?'', I ask.

''I am fine Katniss, I will be fine.'' I think there is a hint of convincing himself in what he says. But as always he puts my problems in front of his, but I won't let him.

''No Peeta, we are both hurt, no one come before the other.'' I state this and I see him think.

''Alright Katniss,'' he says with exasperation. We look at each other a little longer. I give in and walk into his arms. He doesn't hesitate as he wraps his around me. I breathe in his familiar smell, and his warmth and hostility. I feel the right side of my face become wet. I look up and see tears sliding down his face. His blue eyes latch with my grey orbs. He leans in and kisses my forehead.

''I missed you Katniss.'' He whispers.

I try not to say it, but it comes out.

''I missed you too Peeta, I missed you a lot.''