I wake up the next morning in a familiar position. Me wrapped around Peeta's strong body. Although I'm terrified of what will happen when he wakes up, I savor these moments where his body heat radiates onto me. It has been so long since I have felt another person's body heat on me that I can almost feel his body heat being transferred to my body, filling me up from the outside in.
It only lasts for a few minutes before his body twitches violently. I glance at his face which looks twisted and in pain. I rub his arm softly and desperately whisper, "Shhh, Peeta, it's just a dream… It's just a dream… Shh…" My heart is pounding wildly, hoping, hoping he isn't going to have one of his spells where he wants to kill me..
He sits up quickly and turns to me, his pale blue eyes looking at me in a mix of anger and fear. "No." I whisper. "it's just me. Katniss. I won't hurt you. I'm your friend." His face loosens up slightly, but not completely. "You… You…" He says after jumping out of bed and pacing the floor. He calms down after a dozen strides.
"Okay." He says after sitting down. "Sorry" He mumbles and looks me in the eyes. Ah, there are those blue eyes I used to know so well. I let out a sigh of relief.
In the kitchen, Peeta starts to cook up a storm. My mouth is watering at the smell of pancakes, hash browns, and cut up fruit. We eat in a silence only interrupted by the sound of forks hitting the plates. Then, we clean up in the same silence. I can't help but notice, though, that it isn't an uncomfortable silence. It's like the kind we used to share when words weren't needed.
As I'm washing the dishes, I look out the little window and watch the sun rise slowly. In the distance I see people starting toward the Hob and children running around. As the world slowly puts itself together after the war, I feel like things inside this house could start slowly putting itself back together, too. It gives me a sense of hope.
"Katniss?" I turn around and see Peeta taking off his dirty apron and hanging it on its usual hook. "I want you to know that I…I'm really trying here. I really am. I want to be back to normal." It's silent for a moment as he rubs his forehead. "I don't know why I'm saying this." He smiles a shy smile.
"You were one of the strongest people I ever knew. The thing you wanted most was for the Capitol to not control you. So, I know you can pull yourself out of this. They can't control you, Peeta. They can't."
He walks over to me in two long strides and grabs me behind the neck, for a moment, I'm terrified he's about to hurt me. Instead, he pushes his lips to mine. The shock of this wears off after a few moments and the relief kicks in. I hadn't forgotten the feel of his lips on mine, but I never remembered it ever feeling this good.
He picks me up and sets me on the counter and I wrap my legs around him. His hands move around my body, traveling from my neck to my hips, pulling me closer to him. He rubs my upper thighs and I let out long sighs. I move my hands up and down his back and his torso, enjoying his strong muscles. Suddenly, I feel him effortlessly pick me up and bring me to his room. He gently lays me on the bed and then leans down on top of me and kisses me with more hunger.
In one quick motion he takes off his shirt and I gaze at his abs and chest. He sees me and smiles shyly. I take off my shirt to reveal my old, tattered bra I've had for years. I'm kind of embarrassed but he doesn't seem to mind. He kisses my stomach and works his way back up to my mouth. I shiver.
It feels so good to be with him again, that the idea of boundaries doesn't occur to me. In the heat of the moment I reach my hands down and start to undo his zipper and button. But, I wish I hadn't.
He jumps backwards and starts to breathe heavily and sits on the far corner of the bed with his head in his hands. His breathing is loud and alarming.
I inch away from him, knowing that he is about to strangle me or hurt me in some way. I hear him crying into his hands and whispering something to himself.
"Peeta.. Please… Peeta it's me.." I say. He is still crying but his breathing is slowing down.
"I'm not going to hurt you." I say and work up the courage to move closer to him.
"No, no." He says, picking his head up from his hands. "This isn't because of you."
I am confused, but I move closer and put my hand on his back anyways.
"You can tell me." I say, just above a whisper. He nods and takes a big breath.
"My mother." He says in a tone of pure disgust. "Did you ever know her?" he asks. I nod slightly. "She was an awful woman." He shakes his head and looks down for a while, focused on his hands. I rub his back and wait for him to go on.
"She.. She hit me, you know?" My mind flickers to his mother punishing him for giving me the burnt bread. I remember all the times he came to school with terrible bruises on his face and body. I nod again. "Well, she didn't just hit me." He inhales deeply, and exhales a shaky breath. "She raped me. Many times. Up until I was strong enough to defend myself. I haven't told anyone. She would beat me and tell me 'You'll get this and worse if you tell anyone'" He pauses while I think this over. I'm in shock. I knew his mother was an awful woman, but really? She would rape her own son?
"I.. I kind of blocked it out of my mind, you know. It was pushed away. But the Capitol found that memory in the back of my mind and used it to torture me.
"I just remembered it right there" he motions to the side of the bed where we were lying down. "I remembered all the things they did to me. It all just came back to me. Everything they did to me in the Capitol." He lets out a racked sob. I hug him tightly and let him cry. And cry. And cry. Eventually the crying stops, but he doesn't want to talk anymore. I get him to the top of the bed and tuck him in and make him some tea that he never drinks. I sit in the room with him as he stares at the wall. I rub his back with my hand and tell him everything is going to be all right. They can't hurt him now.
This goes on until the sun sets and the room goes dark. Peeta falls into a deep sleep and I sit awake, cursing the fallen Capitol, the rage inside of me boils up until it's the only thing I can feel. Many hours later after I finally settle down, I know that it can only go up from here. Peeta knows what happened in the Capitol. He knows, if he didn't before, that I'm not a mutt, and that the Capitol set that into his brain. I fall asleep, feeling angry and somehow hopeful. The boy with the bread is coming back to me. The boy in the bread is coming back to me. I repeat in my head until I'm fast asleep.
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