Sometimes when he looks at me I see pure hatred. The same hatred I saw when he was bright to district 13. Broken and beaten. He was crazy. He hated me. Tried to choke me. Yet when he regained his mind. The boy with the bread was gone. Sometimes I thought of him as the boy who changed.
He still had his charming smile. The one girls use to swoon over. They still do, not as openly though. He still trained like a career, claiming that he should stay into shape. It was something to do so sometimes I would join him. Other times I'd look at him and think of how war changed us.
What if the rebellion never started? What if my dad was blown up in the mining accident? Would I still volunteer for Prime? Would I be with Peeta? Would I still be in the games? If so would I still pull the star crossed lovers act?
I don't know. I don't know what's wrong with Peeta. Why can't I help him? Why won't he let me?
The flashbacks come more often. One time when I was out hunting he had one. He thought I was dead. He thought he destroyed me. It took me an hour to convince him I wasn't dead and I wasn't leaving him.
I remember him telling me how he dident want to be one of the capitals pawns, that if he died he wanted to be himself. Of course that couldn't, they had to mess his mind up, take his leg, and almost kill him.
But now there gone. They stole the boy with the bread. And instead left him as the boy who changed! Why do the best people have the worst luck? Why? I wish someone would answer that.
"Katniss wake up." I stare up in to the blue eyes I know so well. I flew my arms around him almost knocking him over. I don't know how long we stayed like that. But I do know one thing.
That was the first time that he let me help him. And he helped me. Together we cried we cptalked and just embraced. Knowing that we had each other. That's all we needed. Was each other.