Chapter One.
I awake to the sound of my own screams crashing through the silence of dawn. As I shake away my nightmare my laboured breathing echoes around the empty room. The first beams filter in through the shutters and cast shadows into every corner. In the semi darkness of the early morning the monsters of my nightmare still surround me, a mutated dog with murderous human eyes lurks to my left, a group of monkey mutts lay beneath my bed taunting me with the names and voices of my beloved dead.
I curl myself into a ball and wait for the cold light of morning to exorcise the demons from my room, from my mind. A tear rolls down my cheek and a single word escapes my mouth into the deafening silence. "Peeta". It starts as a pleading whisper and builds up to a deafening scream encompassing all of my terror, anguish and heartache. I wait, but nothing but the morning comes.
The sun is high in the sky before I am able to tear myself from the safety of my bed. When I go downstairs I find a breakfast of warm bread rolls, cheese and an oaty porridge waiting for me. I don't know if Peeta delivers the bread to my door every morning or if Greasy Sae gets it for me, all I know is that every morning since Peeta has returned to District 12 there has been warm bread on my table. All I know is that every morning it is as much the smell of bread as it is the morning light that finally banishes the nightmares from my mind.
It has been two weeks since Peeta has arrived back in District 12, the day I heard of his return was the first day I let Greasy Sae drag me from my bed and scrub the scent of despair from my skin. Although I have regained the strength to rise and bathe myself I have still not left the confines of my victors mansion, although the sound of birdsong in the forest and the smell of bread wafting from next door temps me every day.
After I eat breakfast I start my daily wait, I turn Prim's rocking chair to face the door and pull my fathers hunting jacket close around me. For the past fourteen consecutive days this is how I have spent my waking hours, watching the door and hoping Peeta to enter and fill my home and my heart with the life it so sorely needs. The sun in the sky reads four o clock when my door rattles open and my heart stops.
"Hello Sweetheart" Haymitch says as he stoops into the darkness of my living room. We sit for a while and idly chit chat, he tells me about the renovation projects going on in the village and news from the new government. As I listen half heartedly my eyes never leave the door. Finally after about an hour Haymitch grows tired of my one word answers and gets up to leave. Just as he reaches the door, and my line of sight, he stops and turns to me. "You know" he says with a sigh "after all that you have put him through, you really should not be the one waiting" and with a sad smile and a "see you later Sweetheart" he leaves.
I blink into the twilight of his words, and suddenly my whole world falls into place. I get up and sprint through out of the house and into the dusk.
The weeks in bed and my various injuries have taken a serious toll on my physical fitness and I am out of breath by the time I reach Peeta's door. As I stand in his doorway all my courage leaves me and I can barely lift my hand to the knocker. I knock timidly once and wait. It seems like a lifetime before the door slowly creeps open.
"Peeta" I exclaim in a whisper. He stands before me, his posture is slightly lopsided from leaning on his good leg. There are pale flecks of flour dusted on his hands, in his hair and accross his face. His blue eyes are lined with fatigue as they look at me with surprise and a tinge of fear. I ignore the trepidition in his eyes and lunge myself at him, grabbing him at the waist and holding on for dear life. I breath in the smell of bread and baske in his heat of his body. I stay like this for a few moments before I feel his posture relax as he moves his arms to encompass me. We embrace this way, unspeaking in the doorway until the bitter nip of night forces us to move inside.
Wordlessly I follow him into his living room. Unlike my identicle house Peeta's home is full of warmth and life, there are colourful paintings on every wall and plates of delicious buns on almost every surface. Peeta catches me gazing at all of his handywork and mumbles his first words to me in months "I like to keep busy" he says "it helps". These few words rack me with guilt and I realise how selfish I have been. I have been waiting for him to rescue me, to be my hero and chase my demons away, without ever thinking of his. We stand silently for a few moments, and on closer inspection I can see Peeta's despair in all of his creations. The flowers in the painting overhanging the fireplace are the ones I used to shroud Rue in our first Hunger Games. The iced buns on the table were his fathers favourite treat, and the smiling baby in the portrait above the stairs is Finnick and Alice's son, who will grow up never knowing his father.
A lump catches in my throat and I whisper "I'm sorry Peeta, I'm so sorry". With this he turns to me and the anxious look in his eyes softens. I open my mouth to speak again but Peeta places a finger on my lips. "I don't want to talk" he says as he sits me down on the sofa and pulls me into his arms, I look up into his weary eyes and attempt to speak again but once more find his finger on my lips "I just want to sleep Katniss, I just want to sleep". I nod in reply afraid to move incase he removes himself from our embrace. We sit in silence, unmoving, his head leans back against the top of his couch, his eyes are closed but he is still awake. I pull myself closer to him and listen to the rythm of his breathing until finally he falls asleep, and surrounded by his warmth and the smell of warm bread I follow him.