Disclaimer: The chances of me being Suzanne Collins are about as high as the chances of me being J.K. Rowling—which believe me, are pretty low.
I reread Catching Fire today and was inspired by this passage:
"We'll write letters, Katniss," says Peeta from behind me. "It will be better, anyway. Give them a piece of us to hold on to."
So here's what I came up with based off that. It's their letters to each other. Hope you enjoy!
Dear Katniss,
You've just fallen asleep. Finally. I've been waiting for hours, for some reason, you're especially restless tonight. I won't pretend that I don't know why. It's obvious. You keep saying my name, and telling me not to die. If you're reading this letter, then I'm guessing I'm dead, and I don't need to hear your nightmares to know that you'll be blaming yourself. Please, don't.
I just want you to know that I'm alright. Where ever I am. I'm happier this way—you've got to know that deep down—that this is better. That I couldn't live without you. That I wouldn't live without you. I won't get sentimental with you, because I know you get uncomfortable, but it's the truth—I wouldn't be able to.
Please, do me one favor. I think you know what it is. Please, please—don't stop living after my death. If you could, live for the both of us. Watch all the sunsets you can, and love as much as you can.
Let Gale in. Let your mother in. They love you. They need you, just as much as you need them.
And hopefully one day, when you are free from the Capitol, you'll allow yourself true happiness with him. You both deserve that.
I don't regret anything, Katniss—none of it. These past months I've had with you…they made life worth it for me. Truly. I'm fine with dying, if it means you surviving. It's been that way since the beginning.
Know that I love you. That I always have. And I won't ever stop.
-Peeta
Please don't forget—I died so you could live, so don't shut him out. You know who I mean.
A/N: I hate short things, so there might be one more chapter with Katniss's reaction to Peeta's. Who knows, though. Tell me what you think/want.
P.S. This is my birthday present to myself (I know, how pathetic.) But I had fun writing it. Plus, it means procrastinating on starting my poetry essay, which I really do not feel like writing...
Anyways, let me know what you think.
