Hi guys! I'm back from the dead (I'm actually not being sarcastic. I have been really ill over the past year: in and out of hospital, drug therapy. But I won't bore you with the details. I'm sorry for not posting, I just couldn't face doing it) and ready to write again!

Here is a preview to my new One Shot! I'm just writing the ending of this. Let me know what you think so far! Ps, I'm replying to reviewer again! *hint hint*

If you like the story, make sure you follow it!

All my love, Katelynn xxx

Sleep escapes me.

Tossing and turning, I breathe in and out. One, two, three, four… ten thousand and ninety-six, ten thousand and ninety-seven, ten thousand and ninety-eight.

"This is ridiculous." I mumble, flipping the pillow for the thousandth time.

The room is dark. The only source of light seeps through the gap between the rich satin curtains. All the décor has an eerie glow; the glass chandelier smiles menacingly from the ceiling. I turn onto my side.

This room is one place I never thought I would be: in the master suite of the 3rd Victors house in the village – I wanted my mother to take it but she refused. A few months ago, I survived the 74th Hunger Games alongside Peeta Mellark. For the first time in the history of Panem, two tributes walked out of the arena alive. We were (are, I correct myself) the star crossed lovers of District Twelve.

Even though we escaped the arena, our games aren't over. I know we will be pushed into marriage and having children, something I swore I would never do. To make it worse, Peeta was actually in love with me while I only did what I needed to for us to survive… I think.

I told myself that's what I did, but now I'm not entirely sure. There are times when I wake up and all I want is for him to comfort me. Peeta with his strong arms and gentle eyes, a scent of cinnamon and musk. I clear my throat.

Every time I search for sleep, images burst like flashbulbs behind my lids. Blood and bodies, glazed eyes and trampled earth. I feel the pain of the memories surge up inside me in a wave guilt and regret – I mentally heave.

Flipping myself over, I pull the comforter up to my chin and look out of the window. From the peephole I can see into Peeta's kitchen. Normally I see him baking at this time but this morning the lights are off.

I try to ignore the light levels of panic in my gut. Except the more time that passes, the more I'm looking for signs of life inside the neighbouring home.

"I wonder if he is out." I think to myself, twisting the bedsheets between my fingers and propping myself up on my elbow. "Where could he be at 4:40am?"

I find my mind wondering to his location.

"Maybe he's staying with his family or… with a girl."

I try to ignore the gnawing feeling of jealousy and regret. The picture of him holding another girl, kissing another girl, touching another girl forms in my mind; I want to scream.

Hated for an unknown person fills me like a balloon.

"Katniss, slow down." I mentally scold myself. "He could just be sleeping."

Every night seems to go like this, a constant circle of sleep deprivation and Peeta. I don't understand. I turned him down; I moved on.

Gale kissed me. I kissed him back.

I've spent nights comparing kissing Gale and Peeta: Gale was rough and demanding, Peeta was always soft and gentle; Gale was in control, Peeta never tried anything; Gale's kiss seemed empty, while Peeta's always had underlying questions I never let myself answer.

I find half craving human contact, just wanting to be held. I used to crawl in with Prim like when we lived in the Seam, but I disturbed her sleep too much. It wasn't fair on her.

I contemplate going over to Peeta's and knocking on the door, like I have many times, but what would I even say?

"I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd come here and wake you up, even though we're not really friends anymore, or anything really. Oh and sorry for hurting you. I think I lied anyway."

I think about the kiss in the cave, the one that sparked a fire in my belly and my blood to rise in my cheeks. Kissing Gale was nothing like that.

I twist in the bed, covering my face with my hands.

It comes to something when one of my biggest regrets has been letting him walk away. I didn't lie completely, I was acting for a percentage of our time together, but definitely not all of it. I should have told him the last bit, I should have asked if we could start again away from the capitol. Get to know each other better, go on dates.

My chest contracts at the thought of it. The more i think about it, the emptier I feel. The strength to hold the images drains me, like a candle burning low.

With the images still fresh in my mind, I fall into sleep.


The air is warm. A gentle breeze strokes my hair and brushes through the trees. The meadow is full of lush greenery, wild flowers blooming in the spring. I can taste the impending summer air. The grass is softer then I ever remember it being, it bends round your fingers naturally as opposed to being ridged and dead.

I'm just about to turn around when a strong pair of arms wrap around me from behind. The scent of burnt cinnamon hits me like the soft blow of a kittens paw.

"I thought I would find you here." A male voice whispers.

Peeta.

"Hi," I hear myself laugh, as if coming from someone else. "Why did you think you'd find me here?"

"Because you're always here. Staring longingly at the woods you cant reach." I can almost feel him smile.

I twist around in his arms to face him.

"What's with the smiles?" I ask, laughing.

"I could ask you the same question." He laughs back.

I raise my hand and trace my lips. He's right, I'm grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

He rolls his bright blue eyes at me and my stomach twists ever so slightly.

"Anyway, I knew you'd leave without any food so I brought you some."

"Aren't you sweet ."

He hands me a cheese bun that's still warm, and I grin.

"My favourite." I sigh.

"You're saying that like I don't already know you." He laughs.

I look at him full on.

The slight wave of freckles on the bridge of his nose are slightly more prominent then I remember, his skin has more colour to it. His cheekbones are less sunken into his face, making his smile reach his eyes. He looks healthy and moreover, happy.

Curiosity spikes me. I let the cheese bun fall to the floor and he looks are me, slightly taken aback.

Before any words can leave his lips, I step close and rest my lips against his. I feel him smile. Grabbing his shirt, I pull him flush against me and trace his bottom lip with my tongue. Without hesitation he deeps the kiss.

He holds me so gently but with so much purpose. I know that he believes in me and that I can take anything. His tongue explores my mouth, mine explores his. I take his bottom lip in between my teeth and gently bite down; his grip on me tightens.

We keep kissing and kissing until he pulls away from me. I whimper.

"Really?" He asks, "here?"

I shrug.

"What's gotten into you, you normally hate public displays of affection."

"Nothing, I just really wanted to do that."

He grins from ear to ear.

"It's crazy to think how far we've come, isn't it?"

"Is it?"

"In the nicest way possible and I say this with as much love as I can, I thought you would have found an excuse to leave by now."

"Maybe this is something I don't want to leave." A voice whispers: my voice. "Maybe I'm happy now."

"You're really something special, you know that?" He touches my face gently, cupping my cheek.

My unspoken reply is broken with the sound of distant gun fire. I snap out of my revive. Peeta looks just as shocked as I do.

"Is that what I think it is?" I ask, bewildered.

He nods fearfully.

"Stick close to me." He tells me, pulling me in for a hurried kiss.

We run together, hand in hand, out onto the main road of the district. Dirt clouds roll up from under our thumping feet; it does little to hide the trails of blood that trickle down the path.

Bodies lie crumpled on the floor. Some are clearly dead, eyes glossed over with a lifeless shield. Others are doubled over in pain crying out for help. In certain places, the stone floor isn't visible through the pools of blood.

Gunfire still sounds in the near distance.

I look round at Peeta, his face is a mixture of horror and disgust. It must match mine.

"Where do we go?" I ask quietly, clutching onto his arm for balance.

"Away from here."

"But what about-"

"-Katniss, they're here for you."

My head spins.

"Me? Why me? What have I done?"

"You know what you've done, Kat. Come on, we need to move."

"I do?"

My mind is foggy. My limbs don't want to move. I can't think.

The ringing in my ears seems to impair my hearing; all of the gunfire and cries of the wounded cease into silence. I detach from the world. The thumping from my beating heart is the only reason I know I'm alive.

It's so loud I fear I may wake the dead.

"Katniss." His voice breaks the silence. "Katniss."

"Mhmm." Trying to shake my head free from the fogginess.

"They've stopped."

"They've what?"

"They've stopped."

"Oh," I say breathlessly. "I thought I dreamt that."

"But where are they?" He asks, clutching onto me tighter.

Before I can open my mouth to response, a click of a revolver sounds behind us. We spin round.

An army of peacekeepers stand there, each with a gun in hand. Streaks of blood coat their ghost white uniform. One man has deep scratches down the length of his face, apparently one person wasn't willing to give up that easily.

I flip my eyes up to the surrounding roof stops, where more peacekeepers stand snipers in hand. We can't run.

"Hand it over, Everdeen." The first man says to me, his voice void of all emotion.

The smell of blood is overwhelming, metallic and fresh. I want to be sick.

"Hand what over?" I say in a small voice.

"Don't play dumb with us," he snarls. "You know exactly what we are looking for."

"Don't give it them." Peeta whispers, so quietly his lips hardly move.

"Say again, Loverboy?" The mans voice sounds strangely familiar.

"Nothing," He replies quickly. "I said I had no idea what you were talking about."

Everyone moves as quick as a flash. One minute Peeta is stood next to me, the next he isn't.

He is now in a complete headlock with a rusty blade flush against his throat. His eyes are wide. He looks at me with so much pain I fall to the floor.

"Empty your pockets Miss Everdeen, I know you have what you're looking for."

My face is wet with salty tears.

"I don't," I cry. "I don't have anything."

"Katniss," Peeta says gently. "Katniss its okay. Everything's okay. You'll be just fine."

I shake my head, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"I believe in you. Everything will be okay."

I slowly empty out my pockets onto the cold stone beneath me. Lint, string, paper clips, some change and my mothers locket with a picture of my father. I pull out my pockets to show that they're completely empty.

"Maybe without Loverboy around, she'll be more talkative."

Gale.

"His name is Peeta." I spit, looking at the peacekeepers with as much hatred as I can summon.

"Katniss?" Peeta asks gently. My eyes jump to him. "I'm so proud of you."

"Where are you taking him?" I demand, unsure of where my sudden confidence is coming from.

My eyes never leave Peeta's.

"Nowhere Sweetheart." The man with the knife to Peeta's throat says, nonchalantly.

I look at Peeta confused and he smiles at me sadly, his chest rising and falling at a rapid rate.

With a deep breath, he looks at me with so much love and whispers "I love you so much."

I'm about to open my mouth to tell him that I love him too: I always have and always will. But before I can, the peacekeeper jerks his wrist and slits his throat.

His body goes limp. There is no more rise and fall to his chest. His limbs are sprawled beneath him at uncomfortable angles. His eyes are lifeless, shallow and glazed over.

Broken hearted thoughts flood through my head: he will never tell me that he loves me again; he will never say my name; he will never comb his fingers through my hair when I fall asleep on the couch once more. He's gone.

A wracked sob escapes my lips.

I'm just about to crawl forward and take his wounded body in my hands, when two pairs of arms grab me and pull me backwards, a black sack shoved over my head.

I wake up screaming. Cold sweats, tear stroked cheeks and racing heart. I throw the covers off me in a hurry and tuck my knees down under my chin.

"It wasn't real. It wasn't real." I chant to myself. "It was only a dream."

I slowly raise my chin from my knees and force my eyes to look at Peetas house, hoping for signs of movement. It's unchanged.

Usually after a nightmare, I can look over and see that he's okay. Today is the exception.

The room spins around me, blurring of colours. I imagine this is what it's like to be on a boat.

My heart rate rises further, blood drums in my ears. Thump. Thump. Thump

Unable to take it any longer, I spring from the bed and run down the stairs, slamming the front door behind me as I leave the house.

The review box is right there, just saying... :P