Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games and majority of these characters. Characters belong to Suzanne Collins, author of the series.
Basically this is rated M for adult issues, some violence and brief sexuality. I assure you, this is NOT a mindless sex fanfic.
*Takes place after Post-Mokingjay, Pre-Epilogue*
KATNISS:
As much as I want him to just leave me alone, Peeta Mellark shows up every morning with a new loaf of bread. I refuse to rouse myself out of bed. He simply rings the doorbell and leaves me a fresh loaf. When I finally do get up, he's nowhere near my house. I think he's given up on waiting for me. I think he just rings the bell for me now. To let me know he's still there. That he still cares. Even today, he's still bringing me bread. Saving me from starvation, because I'm sure if he didn't come every morning, I wouldn't eat.
I haven't seen him since he planted the primroses outside. It was the first day I'd left the house since I arrived from the Capitol. I must have looked like a dirty rat, but I really didn't care. Nobody else did. Why should I? It was a warm day, and the bright sun looked inviting. I hesitantly took a step outside; my eyes squinted as the sun came to them.
"Katniss." I heard to my left. My eyes had just adjusted to the sunlight and I glanced over my shoulder. Peeta. I don't speak, I only intensely stare at him; give him a look of confusion. His face was sweaty and he was wearing gloves, desperately digging at the ground with a small shovel. "Primroses." He said as he stood. "For her."
At first I didn't know what to say. I looked into Peeta's magnificently blue eyes and I see the boy with the bread. Then I see his intense features, and I know the Capitol has taken even him away from me. I manage to nod respectfully before walking back in to my dark house. I ran upstairs and cried for hours.
Today though, I feel like I need to see him. So when he rings the doorbell, waking me from a peaceful sleep, I race downstairs to see him. When I reach the door, I hear his heavy footsteps on my front steps, and I swing the door open. This takes him by surprise and he turns around. I look down at my feet, which stand near a full tray of cheese buns. Cheese buns, I think hungrily. I've missed Peeta's cheese buns.
He looks at me still, trying to read my face. I make it so he knows I'm hurting, but also that he knows I'm trying. "Thank you." I say after a while. "For the primroses. Thank you for the bread." I ramble, trying to make my voice more clear and loud with every word. He nods and glances up at me. Even after everything the Capitol did to him, he could still look at me straight in the eyes.
"No need to thank me, Katniss," He says easily. "I've been doing a lot of baking and painting. It helps. And I need somewhere to put all the bread I make." He says with a wink, and then he turns and walks away.
I eat the cheese buns alone, longing the times when I had Peeta and Gale and Prim. I miss having people around me, but at the same time, I don't want any contact from the outside world. I don't want to know about the Capitol that once was, or the latest gossip on our new government. All I want to do is sit in my house and eat cheese buns.
It's pathetic, I know.
I manage to drag myself off my couch and take a shower. I let the water run down my body, washing away the dirt and filth from days before. I scrub under my nails, which are almost completely black. I must be in there for an hour when I hear Peeta downstairs. "Katniss?" He calls, with a sense of urgency in his soft voice.
I shut off the water and climb out of the glass cylinder, grabbing my towel and wrapping it around my shivering body. I move quickly, pulling on a robe from my room and running down the stairs. "Peeta? What is it?" I ask. He looks up at me, taking me in.
"I… I don't know. I needed to protect you." He says, suddenly looking at the ground. "I needed to protect you from Peeta." I stand, in my bath robe, completely dazed by the sunlight flowing in from my open door. Peeta must have left it open when he barged in here. "He's going to hurt you," He says, and then the lunges himself forward, landing on the ground. I gasp.
"Peeta…" I say trying to soothe him. I crawl over and rub his back. "No one is hurting me." He shakes violently and shoves me off him, making me hit my head on the armrest of the couch. I stand up abruptly and walk over to the kitchen.
Peeta gets up and walks towards me, pure anger displayed on his features. "You mutt!" He yells as he comes at me again. He's stronger than I am, but I'm faster. I kick his prosthetic leg and he topples over, clawing viciously at my legs. "Mutt!" I escape through the kitchen door and find myself in the living room, pot in hand.
When I look back at Peeta, he is no longer yelling at me. He's looking up at me, tears filling his eyes.
"I…" He swallows. "I hurt you." He says, as if he doesn't believe it himself. "I'm so sorry," He says as he stands up. "I'm so sorry." He sobs again, and walks through the door.
PEETA:
I have hurt her.
I don't remember, but I know it's what happened. The way she held that pot, and the way I was laying on the floor screaming, I must have. She was silent, her white robe hanging off her beautiful curves, but the wild look in her eyes made me want to kill myself.
I hurt Katniss Everdeen.
I trudge over to my house. My living room is filled with paintings of the Games. I shake as I see one of Katniss's bloody face. I'd dreamt about that bloody, vicious face. My doctor said to paint everything I remember from my dreams, no matter how disturbing.
I continue upstairs and find my bed. Without taking off my shoes, I throw myself to my mattress and click off the light. I cry myself to sleep.
The next few days go by slowly. I wake every night to the sound of Katniss's dreadful screaming. "Peeta!" She would cry. "Nooooooooo!"
As much as I wanted to run over and help her, the fear that I could hurt her again was too great. I painted. I painted her house from my bedroom window. Her pale face the morning she found me planting primroses. Her wet and wavy hair from the day I'd come at her…
I wake up every night paralyzed with fear from the same dream. It's me and Katniss. Except I'm stabbing her, and I can't stop myself. "Mutt! You stupid mutt!" I'm screeching as she bleeds from her stomach and mouth.
I open my eyes one night and memories flood back to me.
"Good morning, Peeta." Says a woman in a seductive voice. "Sleep well?"
I look up and see a Capitol woman. She is in nothing but her underclothes. My hands are chained down. I can't move. "Love me," She says as she leans down and kisses me. I pull my face away. The woman backs away, taking two steps back. She then takes my bare knees and squeezes them. I try to move but I can't. My clothes are gone. I'm exposed, every inch of me. I sigh and look up at the ceiling, preparing me for what is about to come. "Fine. You want to play that way." She says, and she pulls a trigger and sharp, bone rattling pain rushes through my body.
I try to shake the visions away. I try to rid of the woman's disgusting vanilla scent. A scent I can no longer tolerate. I try to shake the feeling of her fingers brushing my bare chest. I try to forget her whole Capitol voice and clothing.
I can't.
They haunt me every time I sleep, every time I close my eyes. That woman is there. I want to vomit when I think of her. I want to rip out my hair, and some days, I do. I sit on my bed and pull at my clothes, my hair and my skin until every memory is vanished. But they always return.
Today, I'm doing nothing. I am sitting on my couch, listening but not really paying attention to the television's news channel. I don't even bring Katniss a loaf of fresh bread. I don't even bake any bread.
I let the memories take over me, leaving me a paranoid mess. My doctor says that I need to fight then. Although, he says that sometimes I should let a few in. Letting them enter, that's when you need to learn to control them. A vivid image of Katniss trying to kill me plays in my mind. I shake my head. Not real, I think. Not real.
I must have dozed off, because I have the most terrible dream.
I feel pain rushing through my arm. I look up to see a tube of greenish-yellow trackerjacker venom spilling from a big container, and depositing in my body. I scream, but nobody hears me. "Peeta." Says a man's voice. "Katniss is here- she's trying to kill you!"
"No!" I yell at the top of my lungs. "I love her!"
"But does she love you?" He asks me. The burning has calmed, but I twitch furiously in my chair. I look up and he nods. "Exactly. She was trying to kill you the whole time in the arena. She wants you dead. She killed your family, Peeta!" With that, he walks out.
My eyes flash open, back to reality. Not real? I end up convincing myself it's not real, all without having the violent urge to strangle Katniss. It was the middle of the night, and I wake to the sound of Katniss's bloody screams. I can't stand it anymore, so I get up from my couch and run to her house.
KATNISS:
Blood. Never ending blood covering Peeta's face. "Mutt! I'm going to kill you, mutt!" He screeches. His eyes change from light blue to black. I scream for him.
"Peeta!" I yell, over and over again. "Don't leave me!" He looks up at me. "Please! You're all I have left."
Then, out of nowhere, his eyes change back to blue and his face softens. The boy with the bread is back. Now, Peeta is looking at the ground. He pulls out a knife. "Goodbye, Katniss," He says, looking up, and then he cuts both his wrists. "So I don't hurt you again." He breathes, and then he bleeds to death right in front of me, and for some reason, I can't move. As much as I want to help him, I can't. Images flash of Prim, Peeta, my mother, Rue, Thresh, Foxface, Finnick, Wiress, Mags and all the other tributes in both arenas. I wake up screaming, but I can't stop myself even after my eyes are open.
I hear someone shushing me, and I feel a soft and firm hand rubbing my back as I sit up, trying desperately to catch my breath. "Peeta," I say between gasps. He sits stiffly on my bed, probably still scared of touching me. In reality, by not leaving me bread the past two weeks, I've probably lost a lot of weight. I try to remember the last time I'd eaten.
"Sssh," He says as I lay down again. I grab his hand when he tries to leave. "I'm here, Katniss. I'm alright. You're alright. We're both well," He says, still trying to calm me. I pull him down to my bed slowly. He can't leave me now. Not after he's shown me the old Peeta. I know he's still in there. He can't abandon me right now. Not after having this dream. Not after I lost him. "No," He whispers. "I have to go."
I groan at him, sniffling away the tears. I pull him down roughly, and position him so his head is on my pillow. I craw into his arms, and he wraps them around me, stopping my shivering. "Oh, Katniss," He says softly. "What if I-" I shush him, bury my face in his neck and I close my eyes. He thinks he will hurt me, but I know he won't. This is the first time we'd slept together since before the Quarter Quell, I realise. I let myself relax, because I know right now, the old Peeta has returned. He won't hurt me. He never has. Peeta sighs softly as I drift off into a deep sleep.
The next morning, I wake and see Peeta is snoring softly. I smile a bit at the sound. He's trying for me. He's trying to swallow our past and start over. Slowly, I turn and check the clock. 5:45 am. "Good morning," Peeta says from behind. I must have woken him. I speak for the first time in two weeks.
"Good morning."
We get out of bed tiredly and walk downstairs. Peeta speaks hesitantly. I know this must be hard for him. "I'm going to my house to shower." I shake my head when he turns for my door.
"I have a shower, Peeta," I say. Honestly, I don't want him to leave. The past few months have been terrible. Usually I like being alone, but this was just too much. I'd had no human contact at all for day at a time. Greasy Sae came every few days to check up on me. Knowing I had someone 'check up on me' made me livid. When Peeta came to me last night, I felt like things could get well again. I don't want to lose that feeling.
"I need fresh clothes. I'll be back for lunch," He says simply. When he sees my sad reaction, he takes my face in his hands, and for a moment, I think he's going to kiss me. Is that what I want? Yes. It is what I want. To feel his warm lips. I miss him. The warmth and steadiness he gave me when he kissed me. I long the tingling feeling I got when we kissed for real, not just for the cameras. He resists and pulls away from me.
"I'm coming with you, then." I say grabbing my coat. He walks out my door, leaving me not far behind him. We enter his house, and immediately I'm blown away by the fresh smell of cookies. "Mmm." I say dreamily. He offers me a seat and I take it happily. I plant myself in his big couch and look at the television.
Peeta starts walking upstairs. "I'll be out in a few minutes." He says and runs up to his bathroom. I hear the shower running, but really what I hear is Peeta. He's singing lightly, but I can still hear his sweet and soft voice. I smile to myself and mute the television so I can hear him better. It's the Valley song, I realise.
Slowly, I walk up his stairs and press my ear against his bathroom door. His voice is beautiful. Natural but not perfect. Sometimes his voice cracks, but he continues. The song reminds me of Prim, and tears fill my eyes. I long to just stand here and listen to him sing all day, but a few minutes later I hear the shower shut off, followed by his singing. I sigh and turn, but I hear the bathroom door open after I take a few steps.
When I turn, Peeta has nothing on but a small towel wrapped around his waist. His blond hair is in his face in wet waves. "Uhh…" I say. I look down, blushing. He turns his head away from me and slowly takes a step towards his room. Then another. And another. Finally he's in his room and I can look up again. I sigh loudly.
"Katniss?" He asks from his room.
"Yes, Peeta?" I ask.
"Why were you standing outside my bathroom while I was showering?"
I think. "I was listening to you sing," I say softly. I can hear the silence coming from beyond Peeta's door. He's probably wondering the same thing I am at the moment. Right now, I'm wondering what to call this relationship. Friends? Distanced companions? We haven't talked in months yet here we are in his house. I'm feeling like I need him for the first time since I got to District 12. Does he need me? Am I only wishfully thinking that things could be normal?
I don't even know how to talk to the boy. Last year I resisted saying most sappy things to him in worry of him getting the wrong idea. He used to be in in love with me, after all. But now, I'm not certain of how he feels about me. I know that I need him.
Peeta swings the door open. "How was my singing then?" He asks with a smirk. I study his face, and see Peeta. Not the hijacked boy I saw in District 13.
"It was beautiful." I say. "The song… It made me think of Prim," I say, and my eyes flood with tears. I haven't said her name in nearly a year. Ten months? Is that how long I've been in twelve? I try to hold in the sobs, but they escape me, making Peeta take me into his strong arms. I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his shirt. For a while he holds me and I cry. Then, when I look up, I see he is crying too.
"Peeta…" I say as he wipes my tears away.
"I can't see you cry. It makes me upset. And very confused." He says. I wipe my tears on his shirt and he chuckles lightly. Confused… He's still confused. After all the highjacking, he's admitting to being confused. I miss his old self. The old Peeta that admitted he loved me. I smile up at him, even though he knows it's fake. "She would be happy to see you happy, Katniss." Peeta says as he pulls me into another hug as he sniffles.
"I know," I say, and I really do. Prim wouldn't be happy with the way I'm living. Locked in my house, with no sunlight or people. She'd be ecstatic that I've somewhat let Peeta back into my life. She always loved him. Prim, in a way, was sort of like the younger, female version of Peeta. That is why right now, I'm having a hard time looking into his blue eyes.
When my tears dry, Peeta and I walk downstairs to the couch. We sit awkwardly for a while, and then suddenly I take Peeta's hand. I interlock his fingers with mine. He looks up at me, and I return the gesture. "It'll be alright, Peeta." I say to him. My heart breaks silently when I see his eyebrows pull together in confusion. He doesn't know how I feel about him. But I do.
I have loved Peeta since he threw me a loaf of bread years ago.
It'll be alright, Katniss. I tell myself. And I know that it will. Which is why that same day, I go hunting for the first time in a year.
PEETA:
I have made her smile a few times. Every time the corners of her beautiful lips turn up, a tingling sensation rips through my body. I make her smile…
Then, when she smiles at me, a voice in my head tells me it's fake. She doesn't love me. She never will. She just wants to kill me. She killed my father. My brothers. I shake my head, trying to rid myself of these thoughts.
Now, Katniss rests her head on my shoulder and we say nothing. Her fingers intertwine mine and I glance over at her constantly. Her features are unreadable; her eyes somewhere far off in the distance.
"Peeta," She says looking up at me. "I think I'll go hunting today." This takes me off guard, and I pull her away from me so I can look her in the eyes.
"That's great," I say, trying to sound happy. Our relationship is awkward right now, and I can see she has no idea what to do. Hug me? Kiss me? Or just laugh? I try to smile my best at her.
"I'll pack you some cheese buns," I offer as I jump up and walk to the kitchen. She follows me, and sits at my table.
"Thank you," Katniss says after a while. "For the cheese buns." She clarifies when I look up at her. "They always were my favorites," She says and I laugh lightly. I remember her telling me they were her favorites. These are the memories that make me smile when I think of them. These are the ones I don't want to forget. I smile at her and pass her a bag which I packed with a water bottle and three cheese buns. Katniss smiles back at me.
"Well," She says. "I'll be back in the evening?" She says, more of a question than a declaration. I nod.
"See you then." I say. With that, Katniss turns and walks out my door.
KATNISS:
I retrieve my bow and arrows, which are locked away in my house. I haven't touched them in so long, I feel great as I feel the extra weight of my quiver on my back. I pull out a cheese bun as I exit Victor's Village. I realize that I'm very hungry. I eat a whole bun before I even reach the place that once had a wired fence, but was now a gateway to the forest. It's legal to hunt now.
I enter the Meadow, which looks the same as it did the morning of the reaping. I'm grateful that the Meadow wasn't bombed with the rest of Twelve. It was a piece of my childhood; probably the only piece left.
I walk to Gale and I's old meeting place, and for a while, I sit and nibble on another cheese bun. I wonder how Gale is doing in District 2. I wonder how my mother's hospital is. I haven't spoken to either of them in what seems like ages. The only person that stuck around was Peeta, not that I minded.
Anger and frustration always bubbled to the surface when I thought of Gale Hawthorne and my mother. Gale, first of all, may or may have not killed Prim. My beautiful, selfless, kind, generous, naïve Primrose. He also left me after the rebellion. Never tried calling or visiting his best friend. Abandonment. Betrayal.
My mother calls occasionally, but I never answer the telephone. I see that it's her and I ignore it. She could have stayed in Twelve, too. But she decided to abandon me, as did Gale. Only Haymitch and Peeta stayed. Only they have clean slates with me right now.
Haymitch. I think of him, who is now raising geese. He seems flustered most of the time, but surprisingly sober. Which is a fantastic sign of recovery. I look out my window and see him feeding his geese and I want to smile, but I can't. I can't be happy that he's happy. As much as I want to.
After I finish my second bun, I get up and walk around the woods that I used to know. Now, it's like I'm a complete stranger. The sun seems to shine brighter, the birds sing louder and the trees' leaves are greener. I smile a bit and continue walking.
I don't shoot anything. I take in my old forest. I've missed it. Then, when the sun goes down, I start off towards the gate. I have Peeta waiting for me in Victor's Village; he'll be worried if I'm not back by sundown. Well… The old Peeta would have been. Now, I'm not so sure.
Months later, when I walk into my house, Peeta was sitting on my couch, the television muted. His hands held his forehead, as he muttered word I couldn't understand. His fingers were laced in his blond hair, pulling desperately. The flashbacks. I pull myself down so that I'm kneeling beside him. He's not leaving me. He's not letting the memories take him away from me. He's fighting.
He then looks up at me. "Katniss," He slurs. I hate seeing him like this. It hasn't happened often, and I take a different approach each time. This time, he looks the worst I've ever seen him.
"Peeta, I'm here," I say, pulling him into a strong hug, although he doesn't hug me back. "You're safe. I'm safe. We're in Twelve, the rebellion was a success. There is no Capitol." He relaxes slightly. Then, all his muscles tense and he grabs my shoulders. "I'm not giving up on you." I say.
Peeta shakes my shoulders roughly. "Get out, Katniss. I can't control this." I shake my head. I want Peeta back. His face is red, and he looks to be fighting very hard. His fingernails are digging into his skin. Almost with such a force that they draw blood. "Get out!" He yells.
Because I have no clue what else to do, I kiss him tenderly. At first, Peeta is taken aback by the kiss. He pulls away, and his features relax slightly. His muscles go back to the way they are normally, and he unclenches his fists. He sits for a while, studying me. "You love me. Real or not real?" He asks. I know the answer immediately. He keeps me together. Peeta, although he is broken, tapes me together when I break. I'm going to be there for him now and forever. He's all I've got, and all I need. I love the boy with the bread.
"Real," I say. He then relaxes, and presses his lips to mine. At first, I think it's some sort of experiment. Testing my love. Making sure. However, then he leans into it. He embraces it. We speed up, and Peeta's lips separate, our tongues dance together. I manage to pull myself up so that I'm on top of him. I wrap my legs around him. He kisses me hungrily, and I moan loudly as he starts kissing my neck.
My stomach flips and he kisses me rougher. Down my neck, my chest and finally my collarbone. He plants little pecks across it, tracing my jawline with his fingers, making my shiver excitedly. I reach for his shirt, desperately wanting it off of him. When he pulls away from me, he looks at me intensely.
"I… Made you supper," He said nervously, lifting me off his lap and planting me next to him. I follow him to the kitchen and sit at the table disappointed. He hasn't said he loves me back. I frown to myself. I was expecting a grand Peeta-ish gesture. A long speech, naming the reasons he loves me. I see the frustration in his eyes. He's angry with himself. Although, I don't want to rush him, either. If he's not ready, so be it. I'll wait.
He's made a delicious meat stew, and in the middle on the table is a plate of perfectly sliced bread.
"Thank you," I say as I reach out for a piece of Peeta's homemade bread. It's delicious. I dunk it into my stew and nibble on it. I watch as Peeta gulps his supper down in minutes. He eats two slices of bread, and starts washing his dishes. I wonder what was going through Peeta's mind when he stopped kissing me. I was certainly enjoying myself. I wanted him to pursue. He seemed to like it, too. His mouth was soft and gentle, just as I remember it to be. Nothing had changed about his kisses, which is why I could have held on to that moment forever.
I hand Peeta my dishes, even though I don't like it. He always cooks and always cleans. I feel useless, considering I don't even bring him the meat anymore. He turns and smirks at me as he rinses out my bowl. I think of his face as he pulled away from my neck. I imagine his eyes as they wouldn't meet mine. I let myself frown. Peeta must notice because he dries off his hands and takes mine.
"What is it?" He asked, looking directly at me now.
"Why did you stop kissing me?" I ask, suddenly feeling my face burning up.
"Katniss, neither of us were ready for kisses. You know that," He says softly. But I don't know that. I wanted him to continue showering me in kisses. I was ready to kiss Peeta. We have been with each other every day for five months now, and frankly, I craved his touch more than anything. "Well, I wasn't ready. And I don't want to give you the idea that I am something I'm not. Do you understand?" I nod. He didn't want to kiss me. My Peeta doesn't want to kiss me. He truly is gone. My eyes fill with tears.
"But you are desirable, Katniss. Every time I see the corners of your pink lips turn up, I wish I could kiss them and never breathe again." He seems to know what I'm thinking, and covers up his tracks when he senses that I'm upset. I like how he can read me. "But… I suppose now that the reason I pulled away was because I didn't want to get carried away too quickly." I nod and Peeta wipes my tears away, leaving a light kiss in each of their places. "I am still sick, Katniss. And still very, very tired."
I take a bath and I order Peeta to stay with me for the night. He does, and although he seems hesitant, I'm not to crawl into his arms.
PEETA:
It took me nearly three months to kiss her again. Little kisses on her cheeks, sure, but none like that evening. Then, I was all over her. My tongue seemed to have a mind of its own. My lips seemed to direct me. I heard Katniss groan in pleasure. I left her wanting more.
Yet, something felt very rushed. I felt like I was kissing a girl I've loved for years, but in reality, I'm still not sure how I feel. Do I love her? Am I only hesitating out of fear?
Even today, when Katniss leans into kiss me, I don't kiss back. I let her, but I don't quite respond in a way I would have before the rebellion. I feel her tongue brush my bottom lip, in hopes that I would kiss back. I couldn't allow myself. As much as I hated myself for it, I couldn't bring myself to trust her kisses. Not yet.
She frowns at me. "Peeta, what's your problem?" she asked after I pulled my face away from hers. I sigh, refusing to look her in the eyes.
I start explaining my trust issues gently. "I was through a lot-"
"Wait. And I wasn't through a lot? Do you think I wouldn't understand or something?" She screamed at me, pushing me away from her. My eyes welled up in tears. She's angry with me. But she didn't let me finish my sentence, if she had, she would probably not have reacted this way. Suddenly, I'm angry and sad at the same time. Mostly angry. Since the rebellion I've been a short fuse, cursing violently when I break something and yelling for no reason. This is the first time since I've been back that it's Katniss that sets me off.
"I was through a lot of highjacking," I snap, as memories flood back to me, making me more irritable. Katniss is surprised by my tone of voice, and I don't blame her. Usually I'm gentle and careful with her feelings. Now, I can't hold anything in, and to be honest, I don't really care. "I'm talking about in the Capitol. I'm saying that they messed a lot with my head, and I'm having issues grasping you as my reality. Excuse me if you thought I was implying that my life has been more pathetic than yours." Katniss looks down, shielding the emotions that I see clearly bursting through her. I'm still very angry.
When she looks up at me, I see regret. Her eyes are full of it. I'm glad, too, that she's regretted saying that to me. I had the right to finish my sentence. She had no right snapping at me like that. She has no idea of what I went through in the Capitol. No idea. While I was there, she'd been in District 13, probably kissing Gale and living her life happily. She… She doesn't know what I've encountered.
Every morning, a new person enters my room. They say things I could care less about. I turn and ignore them. I have no clothes on, and I get very cold. Sometimes they touch me, sometimes they cry when I don't touch them. I honestly don't know what they want from me.
President Snow is selling me. People enter my room and expect me to make love with them. For the first week I refused, until I was visited by Snow.
"Do as I say or Katniss dies, Peeta." He said that morning. "The choice is yours."
"Don't hurt her!" I shrieked. Snow simply shook his head.
"Then cooperate. You have two appointments each morning. If they are not satisfied, Katniss will suffer." He said.
"Appointments…" I said questioningly.
Snow gladly explains. "Peeta, you are desirable. Women here in the Capitol love you to bits! And now they have the opportunity to do so. All with rewarding myself with a very large profit!" He exclaims. I'm a prostitute. I'm being forced to make love to other people. "Like your fellow tribute, Finnick, you both have this spark. People pay for you. You do what they want. You're brining money in by the bucket loads, Peeta! The only difference between you and the Odair boy is that you are locked in a cell, and they come to see you, rather than the whole ordeal is organized like a date."
My face is burning when I think of that morning, and I must be bright red. The morning when I found out what I had to do to protect Katniss. When I look back up at her, she looks hurt. I take deep breaths, and as much as I want to storm off, I can't. Katniss is keeping me here. I can't leave her. For a while, we stand awkwardly exchanging shy glances with each other. Then Katniss speaks.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too." I say, and I pull her into a hug.
"Peeta," she sighs. I remember how I loved the sound of her voice saying my name. "You have nothing to be sorry about." I shake my head.
"I'm sorry for being… Unlike myself." I say, making me laugh lightly. Katniss rested her head on my chest, not moving. "Hey, are you breathing?" I ask in a teasing tone. Katniss looks up at me and smiles brilliantly. Her smile makes me smile. She knows it, too, which makes her smile even wider. These are the moments that I can't get enough of. The ones I try to hold on to when I'm losing it.
With that, Katniss gets up on her tip-toes and plants a small kiss on my jaw.
"No!" Shrill screaming. "Peeta!" I wake to the sound of my name. Katniss is still in my arms, but she's thrashing and kicking at my body viciously. "Peeta, no!"
I take her face in my hands and chant her name. "Katniss," I say loudly. She punches my gut, and although it hurts, I don't stop trying to rouse her. "Katniss," My hands move from her face to her shoulders and I lightly shake. "Katniss, wake up!"
Her eyes open abruptly. She isn't immediately in tears, as she usually is when she's woken by me. I frown at her, and then lift her up into my arms. She is breathing deeply- more like wheezing- and I soothe her by rubbing her back. I feel her shivers of pleasure as my hand brushes the small of her back. I smile to myself.
"What was it, Katniss?" I ask once she's regained her breath.
She shakes her head. "It was n-nothing, Peeta." Katniss stuttered. I'm puzzled by her response. She seems to be angry with me, for some reason. Not angry entirely, just… Hesitant. Hesitant because I haven't told her I love her back like she expected. I needed to know about her dream. They also help me cope. She was screaming my name. Was I dying? That had to be it. But… She didn't cry. When she dreamt of my death, immediately she was in tears. So it wasn't my death, but it was me.
"I was hurting you, wasn't I?" I ask. It was the only thing that made sense. In her dream, I was hurting her, and in the dream, Katniss was begging me to stay with her. She was begging me not to lose myself. This breaks my heart.
Katniss looks down, giving me my answer. "Peeta…" She trails off as my eyes fill with moisture. I look away from her as she grabs my hand and I let my tears fall. "It was a confusing dream. You just woke to see me in the worst state, that's all."
I look at her stubbornly. "Tell me every detail of the dream that you remember." I say, wiping my face of my tears. Somehow, hearing her voice will calm me down. Plus, how was it a confusing dream? What else had happened? Questions bubbled to the surface of my mind.
Katniss blushed deeply. "Well…Uh…" I urge her to keep going, no matter how embarrassing it was. Finally, she spit it out. "We were making love." I look up at her and hold in mylaughter. Her face, even in the dark, was a brighter red than any of my paints. "Yes, so… We were… You know," She continued. She had a hard time choking out the words. "And you just… lost your sanity. Your grip on reality." She shrugged, but her face was still bright red.
"Katniss, I need you to be very specific. What triggered me to lose it?" I say my voice soft and even.
"Peeta," She groaned. I hold out my hand and hold hers.
"Please," I beg, because I really need to know. Knowing can help me in the future. For example, having it in my memory as a dream won't affect me much in real life. In case this exact thing ever does happen.
She sighed. "You… Said something." I keep listening. "Your exact words were, I think: 'You bad, bad girl, Katniss.' Then you just… Lost it." I laugh, although I'm very angry at myself for even planting those violent ideas in her head. She scowls at me, which makes me laugh even more. "Hey, it's not like we were getting anywhere near that in real life, so at least let me dream!" She says as she giggles along with me.
We lay silently on her bed when finally, a question comes to mind. "So… Was I any good?" I ask with a grin that she can't see in the dark. I hear her sigh.
"The best," I hear her tease on the other side of the bed. I chuckle to myself, and drift off into a deep dreamless sleep.
KATNISS:
Finnick Odair.
Finnick was good-looking, and he always used this purring voice, always trying to seduce everything. I couldn't help but think of him last night. I couldn't help think of his death, Annie, and their little baby. I wish I could see Annie and her baby. Maybe Peeta and I could visit.
"I miss Annie, Peeta." I say to him this morning. He turns to me and raises his eyebrows.
"That's sudden," He says, asking for an explanation.
"No, not really. Last night you reminded me so much of Finnick."
"How so?" He asked with a smirk.
"Peeta! 'Was I any good?' Who else does that remind you of?" I laugh when Peeta laughs.
"It was an excellent question. And maybe we should take a trip to District Four, then?" He asks, and I am so grateful he feels the same.