It wasn't often he found himself in these situations. In fact, if asked a month and a half ago, he'd tell you it was damned near impossible to catch him with a drink in hand. He'd tell you it was because he didn't like the way it clouded his head, but that'd be a lie. Only one person knew the real reason he didn't drink.

And she was dead now.

He sat against a tree, taking in the foliage that surrounded him. He sighed, tears pooling in his eyes, mourning the life he could never have. He slipped further and further into himself, watching the colors around him. He willed his mind to be blank, but it just wasn't meant to be. He could deal with the pain, and loss, and guilt. For him the worst part was he kept seeing her. Hearing her. Feeling her. He reached out and thumbed a leaf beside him, closing his eyes and wishing it was her warm skin underneath his fingertips. He remembered the way she felt in his hands. When he'd skim along her waistline, just under her breasts. It was the happiest he'd ever been. He'd only ever wanted to protect her. Love her. Keep her. All he wanted in life was her. Everyone in town knew it. They knew how much he adored her.

And yet… they all thought he killed her.

They thought he bludgeoned her to death of all things. He ran a hand through his hair and pulled. They thought he could pick up a rock and repeatedly hit it against her face until she stopped breathing. Everyone believed him capable of this.

His father was the one that disappointed him most. He tried, he really tried to make sure none of this affected them, but it was inevitable. It was only recently the Mellark's began to doubt his innocence, and even then, he knew the thoughts had been festering in their minds for weeks. When he was first picked up. The only reason he wasn't in jail right now was because there wasn't a body. Just suspicion. Well, no, exactly suspicion. There was too much blood. His eyes popped open, not wanting to see it again. His hands shook and he dropped the beer bottle as he clutched his jacket closer to his body.

"Mr. Mellark!" The male voice overtook him as he exited his car, eyes red and puffy. He shook his head and walked up to his door. Just before he opened it, the man shouted across his grassy lawn. "What are your thoughts on the fire?"

He whipped around and scowled at the man in anger and curiosity. He clenched his teeth and muttered, "What fire?" He bit his lip, eyes widening. Why did he do that? he wondered and averted his gaze to his hands.

He heard a harsh laugh and angry grumbles from the reporters, "Don't act as if you don't know."

He shook his head sadly and looked back up to the man, "The fire at the morgue. All evidence in the Everdeen case has been destroyed." He gasped, a distraught expression crossing his face before running back to his car, hopping in and speeding away. The tears began pouring before he could stop them. He didn't sob though, he kept his face stoic, unable to express what was going through his body. He could feel the A/C cooling them on his skin. Focusing on the feeling was a welcome distraction. He was glad that none of the mirrors in his car were pointed at him. He could only imagine what he looked like.

That's when he heard her. 'Peeta.' She whispered against his cheek, although it came out more as a giggle. He could feel her breath battering his skin. She began kissing down the side of his face, her lips soft and warm. 'Peeta, be honest!' She pulled back and he turned to her, eyes hooded.

"Katniss…" He whispered to her, but it wouldn't affect what he was seeing. The memory just continued to play out as her grey eyes shined up at him.

'There's no way that's how long you've love me.' She beamed at him, and his mouth almost twitched upward. She leaned back in the passenger seat, sighing contently, 'Well, I guess you have me beat.' She brushed his arm and gripped his left hand tightly, '5 years? I thought falling in love at 11 was insane!" He reached out and trailed his hand down her soft skin, lost in her presence. It was when he spotted the tie at the nape of her neck and he remembered that she wasn't here. Not really. She was wearing a bikini in the dead of winter? No.

It was when the car skid along a patch of water that he was fully taken back from his daydream. What he wouldn't give to hold her in his arms again, and feel her hair. To tug her braid teasingly. She would always swat him away but he knew she loved it.

She loved him. And he loved her.

Everyone in this town was just insane.

A/N: Hey guys! New story, based loosely on the movie version of Horns. Excited for this, please Review or PM me with your thoughts.

-RC