I awake from a nightmare. Again. Rue was being speared. Not by the tribute. But by Snow. And his snake eyes were watching me the whole time. I clumsily file out of bed, afraid of what the day awaits. Greasy Sae is in my kitchen. I silently sit down and stare out the window.
"Peeta's back," she says. I imagine his arms wrapped around me once more. "You should go and talk to him." Talk to him? Yeah right. He probably doesn't even remember those nights on the train. I hear a shuffling commotion in my yard. I get up, open the door, and find him. Sitting on the ground, planting something.
"What are you doing?" I ask. He looks up at me, those blue eyes boring into mine.
"I went in the woods today. And found these-" He holds up a bunch of roses. Ugh. Not again.
"Peeta, what the hell?" I rip them from his hands and he stops me.
"Katniss, look." I look at the plants and notice that they are primrose. Evening primrose. My eyes well up.
"Peeta," I begin. But I am too angry to finish. He stands up and wipes his hands on his pants. I cover my eyes, and feel a warm embrace. At last I can find shelter in these awaiting arms. I start to sob, thinking of everyone. Cinna. Rue. Prim. Finnick. I cry even louder, wishing these thoughts would vanish. Wishing I could have them all back. Wishing for Peeta to hold me closer. Tears are running down my face, and suddenly I am murmuring, "I'm sorry," to Peeta. And he just rubs my back. Waiting for me to cry myself out. Waiting for me to pull away. Waiting for me to love him again. Love is a strong word. Did I love Peeta? More than likely, yes, but I was afraid to admit it to myself.
He was always there for me. He was always comforting me and treating me in a way that I should not be treated: with love. And care. And everything I told myself I would never need from another. But maybe Peeta was this missing link. A piece of my messed up life. I mean, after all, he did save me. About a million times. With the bread. With Cato. With the Capitol. And most of all, with Gale. I didn't have feelings for Gale. He didn't ignite my heart the way Peeta did. He didn't love me the way Peeta did.
So I cried into his shoulder, not ever wanting to let go. Before I knew it, I was in my bed, Peeta leaving me once again. "Don't go," I begged. His hand still lingered in mine and I tried to grab tighter. But all my will was gone. And Peeta came back. His arms wrapped around me. "Always," he whispers. This is the last thing I hear before drifting into unconsciousness.
I roll over and pat the space next to me, expecting to find Peeta's chest. All I find is my sheet. I sniff the air, and laugh. Bread. I throw my legs over the edge of my bed, go to my closet, and put on something somewhat decent. Enough to make Peeta notice me. I practically run down the stairs, wanting some of Peeta's hugs again.
"Hey," he says. He is standing over the stove, stirring something. I sniff the air once more.
"Since when are you a cook?" I ask suspiciously. He smiles.
"It's from this cookbook." He holds up a book.
"Your mom's?"
"Actually, yours." My mom needing a cookbook? Yeah right. "In the back cupboard. I was looking around for food and found it."
"Ahhh…. So what's in the oven?"
"Well, I'm sure you can guess," he says, a smile conjuring up.
"Cheese buns?" I ask hopefully.
"Yep." I'm the one smiling now.
"I haven't had one in forever!"
"I know." He watches the pot intensely and looks to the book. "Can you grab me the peas?" I look to the counter and grab a bowl of green peas from it. When I return, Peeta wears a pained expression.
"Peeta?" I ask hesitantly. He looks to me.
"Katniss, go."
"But-"
"Just go!" he shouts. I grab his wrists. He tries to pull away, but I keep my ground.
"Peeta. Listen to me." His pupils are the size of plates and his breathing is ragged. "Do you remember what you did for me the other day?" When he doesn't respond, I tell him. "You planted primroses for me." His eyes dart to me.
"I did?"
"Yep. And today you're making cheese buns. Just for me. They're my favorites, remember?" The flashback erodes. A small one.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
"Don't be. It wasn't your fault."
"I'm sorry, Katniss," he repeats. I hug him.
"Peeta," I begin. But his fingers are pressed to my lips.
"Do you mind if we play real or not real?"
"Sure. Ask me anything." He hesitates.
"I gave you a pearl. In the Quarter Quell."
"Real. I still have it actually."
"I got blood poisoning. In the first Games."
"Real."
"And you drugged me. To get the medicine?"
"Real."
"Why?" I was caught off guard by his question. I paused.
"Because you needed it." Because I loved you, a voice nags.
"Okay." He went back to stirring. Peeta was focused on something. "So what do you want to do today?"
"I dunno. Maybe go to the market. The woods. Somewhere."
"I have to go pick up some tea and more yeast. We can go together."
"Okay. That sounds great." I looked at myself. "But I need to get cleaned up."
"Me too. Oh, I forgot-" He pulls out a gold piece from his pocket. I take it into my hands.
"Oh my God! Where'd you find this?" He smiles.
"Your mom gave it to me. After the rebellion." My mockingly pin. The only remembrance from Madge. Just thinking of her made me want to cry.
"Thank you Peeta." He starts to talk, but I cut him off. "For everything."
"No need to thank me. I'll always be here for you, Katniss." Always. This word was becoming common between us. He walks to the table and takes a long sip from a cup. "Sae must be really fond of coffee. I found a whole bunch of the stuff stashed in the cupboard."
"Probably," I replied. "I need to pick up some hot chocolate too." He takes another long drink. I stare aimlessly out the window. It's May, and trees are starting to sprout leaves. "Peeta?" I ask. He looks up at me.
"Yes?"
"Do you mind if I, or you, stay the night again? It's been a really long time, and I enjoy… the company."
"Sure." We sit in silence again. I haven't really studied Peeta in a while, so I take the time to do so. His blonde hair has gotten darker, and his muscles are even bigger. Throwing flour around. Which mean he is baking again. I stare at his hands, the ones that comforted me last night, and he looks into his cup.
"You miss Gale." I look up at him. "Real or not real?" How do I respond? I do miss Gale, but a part of me hates him. Maybe Snow was right. It was Coin I shot. If I did believe Gale meant to kill Prim, I would have killed him. But I didn't.
"I don't know how to answer that," I replied, honestly. "I mean, of course I miss him, but I don't at the same time."
"Do you love him?" I love Gale, but more as a brother. Even if we had shared some romantic moments.
"No."
"Then who do you love?" His eyes were fixed on the table. I purse my lips. Undecided.
"My family," I say, my voice barely a whisper. He doesn't ask anymore questions. I look at his face and spot something above his brow. Paint.
"You're painting again?" I ask.
"It lets me blow off steam. Especially after a flashback."
"More Hunger Games stuff?"
"Everything."
"That reminds me. I have some canvases in the spare room. If you need them."
"Okay. Bring them over tonight."
"Alright." He gets up to stir the mix again. "What are you making?"
"Something called chicken and dumplings. It has biscuits in the soup."
"Mmmm. Sounds good." Peeta opens the oven, puts on a mitt, and pulls a tray out.
"I made you breakfast. From some stuff that Sae bought." He hands me a plate with fresh fruit and a steaming bun.
"Are you going to eat?"
"I'm not that hungry, actually." I took a bite of the bread and sighed.
"How do you make these?" I ask. He smiles.
"Just make some regular dough, then add some cheese."
"It can't be that easy!" He nods.
"I can show you if-"
"Yes please!" He laughs and I join in.
"I'll have to make more dough…"
"It's okay. I'll help." He grabs some ingredients from the refrigerator. "Do you like baking?"
"I like painting a lot more. You can express your feelings. But baking comes second nature to me."
"Kinda like hunting? For me?"
"Exactly." He gets a bowl and adds some flour to it. Six eggs. Some sugar and salt. And a little bit of water. He mixes it together using his hands. He adds the last of the yeast, the covers it and puts it into the fridge.
"Peeta?" I ask as he washes his hands.
"Yes?"
"Do you consider me as a friend?"
"Well I would have to, seeing how much we've been through together. Do you consider me as a friend?"
"I think of you as family, seeing how much you have protected me. And showed me so much…" I couldn't bring myself to say the word.
"Love." He stops dead in his tracks. Turns around. And walks toward me. Peeta's arms wrapped around my waist. Our faces were only inches apart. I wanted to feel his lips pressed against mine, that warm feeling tingling my body from head to toe.
I lean in, close my eyes, and expect him to do the same. But he pulls away.
"I just wanna take things slow. Now that I'm back." Slow?
"O-Ok-k-kay," I stammer.
"Maybe once we know what our feelings for each other are exactly, we'll be able to have a physical relationship." I know my feelings exactly, but does he? The last time I checked, he did. Maybe the tracker jacker venom distorted this. But I needed to tell him. I love you, Peeta. I realize then, by only the look on his face, that these words escpaed my lips.
