Silence fills the hours in between Greasy Sae's visits except for the occasional hiss or mew from the stupid cat. I'd like to believe that's how I truly want it to be, but it's not. It is what I deserve, obviously. Happiness, companionship, those things are not to be given to the girl who was on fire. Because my fire destroyed. It spread throughout the country, taking lives and leaving the country in shambles. So I deserve the solitude, the silence, and the sadness. I deserve worse, but even the effort of suicide seems like so much now. Something must be keeping me alive, as well. One cannot live without the will to do so. I simply can't name the thing, though.

The snow is beginning to melt. I can't decide if this is a good or bad thing. At least with the snow I had an excuse, a reason, to stay inside. Soon, people will be expecting me to go out and hunt and live again. I am not ready for this. I am not ready to hear the birds sing again.

Despite my protests, I find my feet taking me out the door where the air is unexpectedly warm, but I still grab my father's hunting jacket. It's warm and comforting against my skin, which I haven't bothered to look at it. I'm afraid of what I will see. I pass through the district when I see Madge's old home. All the bodies were found. Another family to add to my kill list. I had hoped she had escaped, gotten moved to the Captiol…

I do this for a few days. Walk to the forest- I don't bother fishing out my bow again, not yet. I just walk there and back, building my strength up. And avoiding the bush of primroses. Pretending to not know who puts fresh bread on the counter each morning. Pretending because I don't need to mess Peeta's life up more than I already have.

I try and try and try my hardest to act like he's not back, he isn't there, I don't miss him. But it's lies.

Then I realize it. I've had enough lies. What I want is honesty. What I want is him. It's not that simple. I'll have to work my way up to seeing him. Because he must think he owes me something, why else would he be doing things for me?

The first day, I tend to the primroses. I notice he must have been before me because they don't need much work. Which is good. It's getting warm and I am in no way ready to wear short sleeves for the entire world to see. I'm not ready for myself to see.

I keep saying that: I'm not ready. Will I ever be? Probably not. So should I let it hold me back? …I don't know. With my hands in the dirt of the primroses, I realize, she would want me to go on. Prim would say, "You can do it Katniss, I know you can. Do it for me."

I stand up, and wipe the dirt onto my pants. Who cares what I look like? Certainly not Peeta. Wait, I take that back. He used to seem to think I was pretty, but he must have been blinded by his old, forgotten love. I remember clearly him telling me I wasn't "particular pretty' the second time I saw him after the hijacking. After he could see the real me. But what does it matter? If I wasn't pretty before, what will a dirty-look matter?

Three soft knocks. Some noise from behind the door. My legs are screaming, run!, but I plant my feet firmly. He opens the door and I am hit with so many emotions. Guilt, sadness, longing, and a flicker of…hope?

We stand there staring at each other and I wonder if he's playing a game similar to my, "run don't run" game.

"Katniss?" he whispers. I shrug, refusing to meet his eyes. "What are you doing here?" What am I doing here?

"I don't know," I answer honestly. I peek up long enough to see him smile the same smile that first filled me with unexpected warmth right after our flaming chariot debut. It happens again. It's odd- I haven't felt anything really in so long. I want to cling to the feeling, but it passes quickly.

It leaves me feeling even more hollow than before.

"Um,…do you want to come in?" Peeta asks. I nod slightly and walk in, closing the door behind me. He must have been baking, I can smell the fresh bread. It smells nice. Familiar.

"You must be cold, do you want me to make you some tea?" he asks, but I think he just wants to have something to do because it's really only a light chill in the air. I'm not cold, but tea sounds nice and he looks uncomfortable so I nod.

"Sure, that'd be nice," I say in a quiet voice. He makes his way back to the kitchen and I stand in the entrance of the room. Sure enough, fresh loaves sit on the counter. I watch him quietly as he put the kettle on the stove. He turns back around and smiles at me. I try my best to return it, but I doubt it looked like much.

When the tea is done, he makes me come sit down at the table. We both stare out the window as we sip the tea. It's nice and warm. Like Peeta.

It's getting late. Greasy Sae will be over for dinner soon. I probably should leave.

"Peeta? I think Sae's about to be over-"

"Oh, okay. Bye Katniss. It was nice seeing you today."

"It was nice seeing you too." I mumble, getting ready to leave. But I don't want to say goodbye, not really. "Peeta? Do you want…to come? For dinner, I mean?" I ask.

"Sure," he says carefully. I can tell I have taken him by surprise. So we walk back over to my house, arriving only a few minutes before Greasy Sae. She slips me a smile and a wink when she sees Peeta.

Greasy Sae leaves right after she finishes, I guess she's leaving Peeta to make sure I eat. We don't say much, but the quiet isn't as awkward as before.

That night, I stare at myself in the mirror for the first time. I force my eyes to travel down the scarred length of my body. I swallow down the fear and look. Accept that this is what I am now. My face is spared of the patchwork, the scars only licking up to meet my neck. It's a hideous sight. Ribs poking out a sharp angles. Angry red skin sits in huge patches because my ultimate lack of consistent hygiene and upkeep.

Peeta comes back over for breakfast at my request and then again for dinner. This becomes our routine, eating together. It works for me because I am not as lonely and Peeta never tries to force me to eat more than the few bites I manage. Though he does give me disapproving looks. But every night he leaves, and I am left to face the demons alone again.

A/N: Hello! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! I hope to update a lot, but we will see. Reviews are loved, but I can't force you, can I? Thanks for simply reading, really. Much love, Sadie. Oh, and I obviously have no right to The Hunger Games.