Hi! This is my very first fan fiction and I just wrote it in an hour at midnight, so don't be too hard on me!

Both Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark are characters created and owned by Suzanne Collins, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of The Hunger Games.

I try to look angry. I really do, but I know a smile slips through my scowl.

How could I still be upset? He's here and he's safe and he's not gripping the back of a chair or bleeding or looking at me blank and broken.

He's just my Boy with the Bread. He seems so much like old Peeta. Himself. There's no old Peeta or new Peeta, just Peeta.

I look at his face. Wavy, loose blond hair. I still don't want to see his hair slicked back ever again. Beautiful blue eyes with the thinnest lines in the corners.

He's only eighteen. No eighteen-year-old should have any type of "worry lines," but he does.

I'm sure I do too. I never look in the mirror unless I have too.

Of course the scars are hard to look at but that's the easy part. It's funny how I never thought me and Prim looked anything alike, but now if I look at myself I see so many things that remind me of her.

I can't think about that right now, I can't bring Peeta down to that place. So I let out an annoyed sigh, which only fuels his laughter.

I've never seen anything better than this. What I have right now is everything I never knew I always wanted.

If I listened to my instincts, I'd have already run away, but when Peeta came back, I realized I had to finally turn my instincts off and try to turn my heart on.

Of course, the whole turning my instincts off thing isn't exactly possible, but I try my best to turn them down low.

"Look, I really am sorry," Peeta tries to say with a serious tone, but he can't help it and his smile returns to it's fullest.

He tries to muffle his laugh with his hand but it doesn't do much to hide anything.

"Sure," I grown. I am still a little irritated. He scared me to death.

I don't know how long it will take to get the image that Peeta created out of my mind.

"Don't you dare do that again," I insist while pointing at him to make myself extremely clear.

"Why? What's the harm in a little joke?" Peeta beams, eyes lit up.

I look at him, I won't lay it on too hard, I need him to stay happy like this, but I can't really avoid it, can I?

"I-I've just seen you like that… too many times for real." I whisper, barely getting the words out.

I know Peeta was just playing around, I'm so glad he's getting comfortable with me, but I still haven't recovered from when I first walked into my kitchen in the Victor Village just a few moments earlier.

I had slept in late. I hadn't thought anything of Peeta not being beside me. He isn't usually there when I wake up.

Most of the time he gets up before me on a regular day, so when I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw I had slept in an hour longer than normal I wouldn't expect him to be in bed.

I smelled the savory smell of cheese buns in the oven as I got out of bed.

What I came to find when I walked through the kitchen doorway was not what I had expected, but a million times worse.

Peeta was lying on the floor with a pool of spilled flower on the floor beneath him with a small stream of blood swimming on the ground directly from the back of Peeta's head.

I screamed. Maybe his name, maybe for help, maybe nothing at all. I screamed something.

I fell to my knees in front of him, tears already pooling down my cheeks in drops.

I fell over him.

It would have been smart to do something like lift his head a certain way or try to stop the bleeding or do CPR or at the very least check for a pulse.

But I'm not my sister or my mother. I'm not a healer, I only harm things, especially the things I care about.

And most importantly this isn't just anyone it's the only person left on this earth that I know I love.

I know in that situation the next thing I should have done was call someone or run to drunk old Haymitch or Greasy Sae, but I didn't.

I pray to God that Peeta is never actually in a life or death situation with only me close, because I would be absolutely no help.

What I did do was lay over Peeta sobbing and whimpering for what seems like forever, but was probably only a few seconds, until Peeta sat up, repeatedly apologized and held me like the baby I am.

I will admit that feeling his heartbeat did comfort me and convince me that Peeta was safe and sound and okay.

When I realized he was alive I cried more until I finally was able to get it together when he started to laugh.

I wiped my tears and tried to look like I was alright. I repeatedly reassured Peeta that I was just scared and that I'm fine now.

After I said the buzz kill thing I said a moment ago, Peeta takes me into his embrace.

"I didn't think about that. I'm sorry, I just wanted to give you a harmless scare! I didn't know you were that attached to me." I feel him smile and then smirk on my shoulder. I smile a little too.

"Yeah, well I am." And even though I want to say so much more, I stick with that for today.

Thanks so much for reading this, please follow me, more stories should hopefully be coming soon! ;-)