A/N: Sorry for the wait! HW and horses are really taking up a lot of my free time! I may not update for a while, so I can complete the fic and then update once a day with no writer's block, or we can continue this way and see where it goes... Please let me know!
Disclaimer: I don't own THG or the characters... Any similarities between other fics are purely coincidental.
Katniss's POV
Three weeks after the accident, my mother has made no move towards finding a job. The mines have reopened, but my father's wounds are still too raw for him to wear his mining clothes without possibly infecting the burns again. My mother just sits by my father's bed while he is knocked out with sleep syrup, still weak from the infection that nearly took his life a week and a half ago. She sits by his side and brews up medicine and whatever scraps I find to help us scrape along.
Now, I am walking out to the meadow to gather the last of the dandelion leaves. My first reaping is in two weeks, and we are desperate for food. I scour the meadow for any edible plants, but most of them haven't gotten the chance to regrow since my last trip out here. Three dandelion leaves and a mint leaf lie at the bottom of my pail. I break down before I can start towards home. This is it. Prim's cheeks are already hollow with hunger and my father can't get enough nutrition to really be on the mend, all because I can't provide the food and my mother couldn't provide the will. We are both a disgrace to our family. Even the Hawthornes are better off: Hazelle is the Seam's washer woman, despite her newborn that arriving at the worst time possible. Mr. Hawthorne didn't make it. When my father learned, he didn't speak for two days. He was alive because his fellow worker had offered him the easier shift as a gift, one closer to the mine entrance.
I must sit there and sob for an hour. By the time I look up from my nearly empty pail, it is sunset. That's when I see a tuft of blond hair approaching from the other side of a small rise. I freeze. What purpose would a townie have to be in the Seam or the Meadow? They have never bothered to come out here unless it's to get cheap help. I am shocked when I easily recognize the deep blue eyes of Peeta Mellark.
"Oh... I'm sorry! I didn't realize anyone was out here..." he tries to turn back when he sees me, but trips over the little bucket and goes down. The four small pieces of sustenance go flying.
"Oh, gosh! I'm terribly sorry, Katniss," Peeta turns beat red and goes to gather the leaves. I ignore this, immediately suspicious of him.
"How do you know my name?" I snap.
"Katniss, we are in the same classes in school. Everyone our age knows who you are," he says drily.
"Why are you out here?" I continue to interrogate him, not convinced that everyone would know me and confused about what he is expecting to do.
"I come here to see the sunset. Who knows- might be one of my last ones... I'd rather enjoy the view without my mother." This catches my attention, and I am immediately drawn to this boy. Yes, he is not starving, but he's decent enough to have a talk with me, and why not admit it? He's handsome and I can somewhat relate to him.
"It is beautiful our here," I say. I'm inwardly wincing at the sound of my voice, still thick and cracked from crying. Apparently, my former emotions are obvious, because Peeta looks genuinely concerned about me.
"I heard about your father, and I just want to give you this..." He reaches into his school bag and produces one and a half loaves of burnt bread. "I told my father I was going to try to draw out here. You see, I accidentally burned these, and I was hoping that I could give you them..." he trails off. I scowl.
"My family doesn't need your charity. The Hawthornes or Home kids need these more than my family.." I mutter. That's at least half-true... My family is desperate, but we're not alone.
"I just want to help you. It would be a shame to see something so pretty wilt away," he says this so quietly, I could barely hear his words. There is no evidence of manipulation, teasing, or anger in his voice. A shy smile appears on his face. An unexpected warmth comes over me, and I'm fighting off a blush. He's saying that to me. Since when did town boys do that to those from the Seam? I accept his offer of the bread. Despite the burnt crust, it is the most nutritional bread in the district and will be perfect once we scrape the charred edges off.
My body moves before I can change my mind, and I throw my arms around his shoulders, well muscled for a boy his age. I allow myself a few seconds to just soak in his comforting hold on my body before gathering my belongings. I am unable to look him in the eye as I turn away into the fading light.
My mother's look of anger is quickly thrown from her features when she sees the bread. She slices half a loaf and feeds us all slice by slice. It won't last, this hearty bread, but it will do until I can gather up the courage to go into the woods by myself. I fall asleep with a full stomach for the first time in weeks, with Prim curled up by my side. Just before I slip into darkness, I conjure up the image of a smiling boy with the blond locks and captivating blue eyes.