Hi everyone! So this is my first fan fiction and it is a twist on the real or not real game from Mockingjay. It's just a short story but I hope you enjoy and please make sure to leave a rating if you like it!
"Real or not real," he murmurs, a hidden pain slicing into each word. I gaze into his eyes, seemingly overtaken by fear and confusion. He continues on, desperately trying to grasp onto a part of his past that hasn't been manipulated. "In the games..." Peeta's words are cut short, replaced by the grimacing pain of the memory. They changed his mind. Replaced it with the thoughts that we were the enemy. That I was the enemy. "You helped me. Saved me. Just to get that medicine," Peeta finishes with a wavering tone in his voice. His jaws clench, every muscle in his body trying to stay calm. To keep from breaking down. He seems to be on a teeter totter, whichever way I press, he goes tumbling down that path. I just need to choose the right path to follow. I pause, not wanting to speak of the time that we were fighting for survival in the arena. "TELL ME! REAL OR NOT REAL," he shouts, beckoning me to give him something he can latch on to.
There was a time when he wasn't like this. When he belonged to me, not the Capitol. I remember the time before we went into the games he told me, "I don't want them to change me. I don't want them to turn me into something I'm not." All he wanted was to do something that would stop him from being a pawn that they could distort into a monster. They turned the boy that was dedicated to equality and compassion for others into one who is aggressive and pessimistic. They took his worst fear and shoved it into his face. The capitol made him a weapon, just as I am District Thirteen's. I start slowly, not wanting to scare him and throw out all of the progress we have made. "Real," I say, trying not to be weak in front of him. "That's what we did. We saved each other. We were allies."
For the longest time I have tried to ignore him, pretend that he isn't there because the pain is too hard to bare. But for the first time, I couldn't stop staring at him. His face was framed by his square jaw. Those blue eyes were like waves crashing into shore. His blonde hair had streaks of dirt, reminding me of a kid after a long day splashing in the rain. Flushed cheeks brought life back into his face. There are glimpses of the real Peeta now and then. He can give his crooked smile or crack a joke in the most serious of times. For the first time since the games, he seemed like the same boy who threw the bread to me on the day I was starving.
I am doing everything in my power to get the real Peeta back. The one who was willing to die just to save me. Peeta stares at me, trying to figure out what to make of me. After what seems like hours he says, "Katniss..." He seems to stop and regret what he is about to say, but he speaks up nonetheless. "You love me. Real or not real?" I stare at him, wondering if I finally have him back. A tiny glimpse of hope lights my face as I say, "Real."