AN: So this is my first story on fanfiction, I really hope you all like it! Please leave a review so I can improve my writing. I don't care if you flame, but don't flame if you're an anonymous reviewer! This story was formerly known as "Arms of an Angel". I've corrected it so hopefully all the mistakes are gone! Anyway... enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or anything to do with it.
"Home"
I start to calm down as the sun sinks below the horizon. We've claimed the beach and it seems unlikely that any of the other victors would risk their own lives so early on, by trying to kill us. But of course some of us still stay up as look outs, this is the Hunger Games after all, and we could be killed any moment.
I volunteer to take the first watch and so does Peeta. As I look out across the clear water, lit by the golden sun, I notice that this place is truly beautiful. Sitting on the warm sand, it's easy to see that under different circumstances, I would have loved to be here, to get away from all the horrors in my life. But no, this is the arena, and the most beautiful things are the most dangerous. I might as well get used to this place because I'm never leaving, not alive anyway. Peeta will win these games. He has to.
Suddenly I feel the sand shift beside me, startling me out of my trance. I quickly grab my bow and string an arrow, mentally cursing myself at how foolishly distracted I had been. But as I turn to see who it was that disturbed my thoughts, I realize that it's only Peeta, sitting down to start our watch. He raises an eyebrow at the arrow pointing at his chest and I relax, lowering it and sitting down sheepishly. We sit in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Peeta finally speaks.
"What are you humming?" I look at him confusedly, I hadn't realized that I was quietly humming to myself until he mentioned it.
After I had come home from my first Games, I tried to distract myself from the pain of my thoughts by listening to the Capitol music that was provided with my new house. I listened to all the different styles, but they sounded nothing like music to me. Then I came across a section of songs that were said to have been written long before Panem had existed, when this place was still called North America. I listened to a couple of them, but only one really stuck with me, it was the one that I was now humming.
"It's just a song that I came across while listening to the Capitol music. I really like it and can relate to the lyrics." I told him.
He seemed to hesitate for a couple of seconds, before saying, "Will you sing it for me?" I faltered in answering, not expecting that request. The last time I sang was to Rue, as she died in my arms. I didn't want to sing in front of all of Panem. That's why I chose designing clothes as my "talent" on the tour.
Looking over at Peeta, I see that he's waiting for a reply. I sigh. We didn't have much time left together. He said that he fell in love with me because of my singing, so why not sing to him one more time? Looking into his eyes, I forgot where we were, forgot that all the cameras were probably on us right now, forgot that everyone in Panem would be watching, and started to sing.
Spend all your time waiting, for that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
Every day after the Games had seemed like a battle, just trying to keep the will to live. The guilt never truly left, no matter how many times I told myself that it was the Capitol's fault, I couldn't deny that I had killed those children. It was I that threw the tracker jacker nest on the careers and Peeta. It was my hand that released the arrow which lodged in the neck of the District 1 boy. I'm a murderer and I will never be able to forget the people I killed.
Every night, I have nightmares about the Games, about the pain, the stench of death all around, about Rue, and especially about that final night on top of the Cornucopia, hearing the tortured screams of Cato as the mutts that were meant to be the dead tributes slowly tore him apart.
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
I look out over the water, unable to look into Peeta's eyes much longer. There is so much sadness there. He understands why I can relate to these lyrics and I know he does too.
Let me be empty, oh and weightless, and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
Wasn't I doing exactly that when I found this song? Trying to find a distraction? I often wake up screaming in the middle of the night from my nightmares, and although my mother and Prim try to comfort me, I know that there is no comfort for my past.
In the arms of the Angel, fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
When was this going to end? When was the Capitol finally going to leave us alone? They take us from our homes and lock us in the training center, in those rooms where all you can think of is your impending murder.
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, keep on building the lies
At this line, I slowly look up at Peeta again. I've lied to him so many times. Endlessly hurt him, and yet he still wanted to protect me. I hope he could see how sincerely sorry I was and how much I regretted my lies.
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference, escape one last time
I tear my eyes from his once again and look across the sky of the arena, shaking my head slightly. It really didn't make a difference if they both escaped again, the Capitol would never give up, never leave them in peace.
It's easier to believe
That in this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees
Maybe I was crazy. Maybe all the trauma of the Games had finally driven me to insanity like most of the other victors. I would welcome insanity, hoping to finally get relief from my thoughts.
In the arms of the Angel, fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
I close my eyes as I sing the last lines of the song. Peeta puts his arms around me and pulls me to him, silently comforting me, keeping me whole.
You're in the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here.
And the surprising thing was that I did feel comforted. Peeta. Sitting here with his arms around me, I felt safe, natural, like I was home.
"That was beautiful." Peeta whispers close to my ear.
I look up at him, my head still on his chest, and can see love in his eyes, plain and true. Suddenly, I have a strong urge to lean in the few centimeters that keep us apart. I want to kiss him so badly that it's like an ache inside my chest, right were my heart is supposed to be.
Without thinking, I pressed my lips to his. It's shear bliss, unlike any kiss we had ever had before. The kisses during our first Games were all fake - at least for me - but this moment was completely different, like a hunger, a yearning controlling my body, making me unwilling to ever stop. I kiss him passionately, wrapping my arms around his neck, and he kisses back with just as much enthusiasm, arms tight around my waist, pulling me closer to him. As our lips moved together, I finally realized something. I love him. It was as simple as that. I, Katniss Everdeen love Peeta Mellark. I couldn't believe that I hadn't seen it before! It seems like the most obvious thing in the world now. After what seemed like forever, we broke apart, the need for air overpowering our desire to continue the kiss.
I slowly opened my eyes, my forehead resting against Peeta's. I found his eyes looking straight into mine, searching for something. Suddenly I left guilt wash over me. Peeta was wondering if that kiss really meant something to me, or if it was just for the Games again. I couldn't take looking into those eyes much longer and kissed him again, softly this time.
Seconds later, I pull back, and looking into his eyes, I whispered, "I love you Peeta. So much. And I'm so sorry."
This moment was only between us. It didn't matter if everyone in Panem was watching, in this moment, I would tell the complete truth to Peeta, and I knew he would do the same.
After looking at me for a long time, he finally seemed to find what he was looking for. A huge grin broke across his face and he abruptly kissed me again. There was so much emotion in that one kiss, that it spoke quite clearly, all the feeling that were so hard to put into words. As Peeta pulled away, I saw that his eyes were blazing. He finally said, "I love you too, Katniss, no matter what. The past is behind us."
At long last, we were together for real. However reality had pushed it's way into this perfect moment, shattering the little piece of happiness I had found in the Games. I was going to lose him, I was going to die. We had so little time truly together, and because of President Snow, we had to spend it in constant terror.
"I hate this Peeta, I hate that we have so little time together!" I say angrily.
Peeta's eyes quickly darken. " I know Katniss, but at least we're together now" He smiles sadly down at me. "You're going to win these Games. You're going to be a great mother one day." He says determinedly.
The sudden reference to the fake baby tells me that our moment without lying is over. "No" I say forcefully. "You're going to win, I'll make sure you do, you have to."
He just shakes his head, looking at the sand, and I know that arguing is pointless. "Get some sleep Katniss." Peeta says softly, "I'll keep watch".
I would have refused had I not been so tired. I knew that I couldn't stay awake for much longer and my eyelids were already drooping. I lean in and give Peeta a chaste kiss before laying down next to him.
Yawning, I say, "Goodnight Peeta, I love you." I remind him.
"Goodnight Katniss," He replies, " I love you too. And I will protect you, I'll make sure you get home." He says this last part quietly, as if reassuring himself.
As a wave of exhaustion washes over me, I try hard to get my last words out before being pulled under. "Home is wherever you are Peeta, I'm not going back without you".
AN: Was it good? Bad? Tell me what you think!