Wanted to upload something to this account, so I wrote this short little 'ficlet'

..I didn't do anything too fancy as far as phrasing and grammar go due to the fact that Peeta is captured, being tortured, struggling for life, and probably starving. Therefore, he most likely isn't thinking amazingly-phrased, overly-coherent thoughts.

Also, I do /not/ own any of the characters from THG, but you should already know that.

Katniss. Katniss, Katniss, Katniss. She's all I'm able to think about. I'm sitting here, in a cell, left for dead, hidden away someplace in the Capitol (where no one may ever find me, mind you), and all I can think about... is Katniss. It's sad, isn't it?

I could very well die here. In fact, I probably will. I can't stand much more of their torture sessions. I know I'm not the only one. Sometimes I can hear the other prisoners screaming from down the hall. I've even started noticing a pattern, from which I can determine when it's my turn to go get tossed around for a bit. They take us in a rotation, always the same one. When I hear Johanna's shrieks of pain, I am able to count down the four other captives until the peacekeepers come and get me. I'm almost becoming used to it by now.

And still, I can't help myself from wondering about Katniss. If she's safe, if she's on her own or with her family, maybe she's with Haymitch, or maybe even Gale.

Ugh. Gale. He loves her, too. Before Katniss had ever even acknowledged or talked to me, her and Gale were best friends. Everyone in District 12 could tell there was something more than that going on, though the two never would admit to it, not even to themselves I'm pretty sure. After we came back from the 74th Hunger Games, I could sense the tension between Gale and I. Who could blame him for hating me? I mean, I would hate me. He had been there for her all those years, helped provide for her family even when his was struggling just the same, if not worse. And here I was, some soft, well-fed baker's kid, declaring my love for her on national television when I hadn't even spoken to her more than a few times. Then he had to watch us take care of each other throughout the duration of the Games. We even shared a few kisses. He had to watch us sleep in the same cave, curled up together to remain warm. All while knowing that if she didn't make it out alive, then she would never know that he loved her.

Just to be clear, I don't hate Gale. I know exactly where he's coming from. It's how I feel when I see him and her walk off together, although probably much more unbearable. If I had never been part of the picture, Katniss would love him. She still does, but she's just not sure which one of us she loves in that way, and I guess I'm okay with that. For now. I know that I messed things up for him. Without me, there would be no choice for her to make: It would've always been Gale. Without me, she wouldn't have to sift through her emotions and try so hard to make sense of them. Without me, she wouldn't have to worry so much.

I should have died in the 74th Hunger Games. I'm very aware of that fact. The only thing that kept me alive was Katniss. Not just her, but the hope of being with her, the thought of living my life with her, the possibility that maybe she could love me a much as I love her. If I had died, everyone's lives would be so much simpler, so much easier. But since I hadn't, she could still be my future.

I guess I'm just selfish.