Katniss POV

'That's for Peeta to tell you'.

Just as this was said, I was overwhelmed by a noise at the door. As I peered outside, it was none other than the mysterious blue eyed boy. Everyone seemed to know him but me.

Peeta explains to me that I needed to go with him, wherever this may be, as it would help explain the questions I have yet to ask. I was sceptical about climbing into the front seat of his car as I was confused as to how he could explain via a specific place.

The entire location he dragged me to, smelt sterile and clean, as if someone had poured hand sanitizer over the ground and let it seep into the Earth's pores. Despite this, the derelict site was far from clean. Abandoned wheelchairs were imprinted with barely viewable writing. Needles which could only be assumed to have saved people's lives, once upon a time, were scattered across the neglected area.

There, I was overwhelmed with emotion. There, memories I never knew existed flooded back. There. There, was the place I forgot about. There, I didn't understand fully until I saw it. There, right in front of me was the hospital Peeta and I were born in.

I was surprised even Peeta remembered who I was. We were both so young.

I was born on the 8th of May 1997. That makes me 16 (if you hadn't already worked it out). My dad walked out when I was 11 but I, up until now, understood him to be the only person exiting my life. I was filled with the feeling of rejection, as if no one ever particularly cared for me and my sister Prim. Since my mother went off the wagon, that's how it has appeared to be on each and every day.

Peeta was born on the 1st of May, the week before me. His mother was in the hospital bed next to my mum and that was how they met. They lived opposite each other at the time, therefore me and Peeta would stick together as if we were literally inseparable. As if he was the peanut butter and I was the jelly. I would cry whenever he would go home. When we were 5, I was given the devastating news Peeta would never return to our small town of Parker, Colorado.

Now, him, and his family have the audacity to return and pretend it is all okay. He has the nerve to assume we would return to our friendship status like when we were 5. It isn't okay.

I need time to consume my thoughts. I've been trying to hide under a microscope for my entire life, showing everyone something was wrong, but never actually consulting it. Maybe, just maybe, now is the time to revive mine and Peeta's relationship. Make us the way we used to be. Open up to someone. Just friends though. None of that disgusting love stuff. I don't want to end up loving him. I get enough of that feeling chatter from Gale.

Loving Peeta, would be weird.

I make him take me home. I need time to consider the possibility of being friends again. I know it was 11 years ago, but I can't forgive him. At the same time, I understand it wasn't really his fault and it was out of his control. We were 5 after all.

I suppose it would be weird returning to being best friends again. Gale replaced his role when he left to go to Miami. I mean, a girl can't be caught up on her best friend forever. I pushed the thought of him to the back of my mind, expecting him to never return and moved on with my life.

At school, Peeta is great at fixing things. Perhaps this is his attempt at fixing our friendship. Who knows? I really need the time to consider all the possibilities and actually climb into his shoes and see things from his point of view. He obviously wants to be friends with me. So why is my subconscious telling me this is a bad idea?

As I enter my house, I slam the door, not even whispering a word of goodbye to the boy with the pools of blue waiting for me to drown in them. I forgot to close my blinds though. Standing there, shirtless, throwing broken paperclips at my window, expecting me to open it, was him. Peeta.

I cautiously open my window and he takes hold of my hand. I look down as if to say, 'what are you doing?' but before I know it, he gradually forces his way through the small space between our houses and into my room. He perches at the end of my bed as I wonder about the incidents that occurred earlier on in the day.

About to open my mouth, I reconsider and allow him to say the first words. I really didn't know what to say, what movements to make, and right now I don't even know what to think.

Why did he return?

I move my arm and pick up my phone. To me it was a distraction to the awkward silence which seemed to have lasted a decade. It was almost as if the time I spent without him was multiplied by 10 and that was the time it took for him to come out with something to say.

It was clear he wanted to be friends, he obviously wanted to sort the mess created at the hospital. It was also evident that he was apologetic. It was as if the lakes in his eyes were about to overflow down his delicate cheeks.

Before anything else was said, he opened his mouth and forced 4 of the worst words in the world through the small gap in his mouth.

'We need to talk'.