Disclaimer: Nothing's mine.
The difference, Peeta decided, is that he would have swallowed the berries.
"Trust me," she had said, and he had obeyed without hesitation.
What he hadn't done was realize just how little she could be trusted. He hadn't figured out that The Hunger Games were just that to her, a game, and he hadn't known that coming out a victor did not mean he won the prize he wanted.
He would never look at berries in quite the same way again.
He avoided her as much as possible, attempted to string days together when he did not see her face or hear her voice. It was a harsh transition from having her in his arms whenever he wanted, but he was finally selfish enough to care more about his own survival than hers.
"Trust me," she had said, but he found that to be the most impossible task set before him yet.