Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games
Because I miss writing Hunger Games fics :)
xx
Screams and wounds haunt me in my slumber. I toss and turn, having trouble separating dream from reality. Rue's peaceful, lifeless face lies before me, only disappearing when mutts drag me by the leg to a sure-to-be gruesome end. Instead, I'm thrown into a white, empty room. I find a mirror and observe my complexion – free of makeup, yet every pore perfect. Just as I was about to lightly touch my face, my reflection is replaced with none-other than Prim's. Soot on her face, her lazily plaited hair sticking up at odd angles, and her once hopeful vibrant eyes dull and down-casted. I don't deserve to be so clean and elegant when precious Prim is covered in dirt and looks miserable. "I just want you to come home. You'll try, won't you? Really, really try?" echoes through the room. I can't move…I can't save my little duck as she burst into flames.
I shoot my eyes open on that note, tears immediately making their ways down my face. The bed moves as a once sleeping figure beside me wakes up, who in which then slips their arms around me. "Peeta…" I choke out in between sobs. This is followed by many "Shhh, Katniss. You're safe, I'm here. Shhh." He strokes my hair. "It- it was Rue, and…and Prim was there…"
"It's okay, Katniss. You're alright. You're in our bed, in my arms. I'll protect you." I nod, resting my head on his chest.
The steady beating of hid heart comforts me, letting me know nothing could hurt me in this moment.
I trace the long-term scars on his arms. He got these during the Games. I can't help but remember first shaking hands on that stage all those years ago. We were only sixteen. I reflect on my plan to ignore Peeta at all costs, even throwing out mouth-watering cookies his father made for me. That plan sure worked, I joke to myself.
I reminisce on our long, passionate kiss on the beach during the 75th Games, and how it brought butterflies to my stomach when I thought about it. It was a fond memory of mine, for the kiss showed there is hope in a period of darkness, and I knew I loved Peeta in those few minutes our lips danced in smooth harmony with each other.
I think of our first encounter when I moved back to District 12; his weight improved, golden blond locks shimmering as rays from the sun toyed with his hair. His sincere smile when he first noticed me as he planted primroses along my house. I smile, turning to look at his face. The Capital might have sent us through Hell and back, but we stood strong and fought.
Together.
Peeta must've noticed me staring, for he cocked his head to the side. "What are you doing, Katniss?"
"Oh," I bite my lip, deciding on what words to say. "Just thinking."
"Mmm. What about?"
I look down and silently laugh. "You love me, real or not real?" He smiles and shakes his head, acknowledging the fact I stole his line.
He hugs me and pulls me back down with him, kissing my forehead, and I bury my head in his chest. "Real," he whispered.
